Authors: Tara McTiernan
The tickling in her throat started again and she swallowed the bug back down with a gulp of her mojito. Now this was a mojito - perfectly mixed. The place stank to high hell and was filled with low-lifes, but at least they knew how to mix a decent drink.
"Looks like you're enjoying that," the man said, raising an eyebrow at the drink he'd bought her.
She smiled up at him. Okay, she was done with this one. She hated when they made a big deal out of buying her a silly little drink, as if they'd given her something significant. "I am. Thank you. So, why don't you run along now. I've got to talk to my friends," she said lightly and turned away.
A meaty claw wrapped around her arm. "Hey, where you going?" he sneered.
She raised her eyebrows and coolly looked down at her clutched arm. "Let go of me."
He waited a moment, as if expecting her to beg. She didn't, just kept her gaze on his hand. He released her. "Ah, go. Whatever."
She was already stepping away, though, and stopped in front of the cluster of the three girls who had just gotten their drinks at the bar. Chelsea was still being monopolized by the tall skinny Italian with heavy eyebrows. The girls stood together facing the empty dance floor and bobbing their heads a little to the Latin music already pumping loudly over the sound system. Lucie had a glass of white wine, Sharon a martini, and Kate was holding a...cola At least it looked like soda pop - it even had a childish straw sticking out of it. So, Kate was still convinced she was pregnant. And she might be. And Bianca was going to put a stop to it.
"Kate, you've got to try this mojito. It is so good!" Bianca said, holding out her glass to Kate and hoping a cocktail would kick out any incipient resident in Grant's wife's womb.
Kate simpered. "Oh, no. Thanks?"
"No, really, I insist. You're never going to taste a better one."
"But-"
"Kate."
"Okay?" Kate said, looking suddenly queasy. She took the glass in her free hand and sipped from it. "Mmm, good? Thanks?" She tried to hand it back to Bianca.
Bianca shook her head, "No, you keep it. I'll take your Coke. I'm feeling a little tired. Sebastian's been coughing all night lately and keeping me awake. I can hear him clear across the house." She reached for Kate's cola.
"Oh?" Kate said, handing her Coke to Bianca, her forehead crinkling with concern. "Is Sebastian sick?"
"Who knows? Babies are always catching things no matter what you do. He's not even in daycare and he catches bugs as if it's a hobby."
"That's so true? David was sick all the time when he was little," Kate said. "And now that I'm going to be teaching? I'm probably going to bring home colds every week. But, I'm so grateful! Thank you again. I love children?"
"That's so nice of you, Bianca. How thoughtful," Lucie said sincerely.
Sharon said, her tone conciliatory, "That
was
really great of you. Most people don't think about other people's dreams; they're always thinking about themselves. And now Kate can live her dream and get to work with children. Well, you may be having a few of your own, soon, right Kate? Wait, should you be drinking?"
"Oh?" Kate said, taking another sip of the mojito. "I'm pretty sure I'm not pregnant. And it's only one drink?"
"Suit yourself," Sharon said, shrugging a little.
Bianca smiled inwardly. It would be more than one drink if she had anything to do with it. Then she'd drive drunken Kate home and help her inside. Grant would be so touched by Bianca's caring and kindness and...bonus! Possibly disgusted by his wife's drunkenness! This boring night out with "her friends" might be worth more than just a few brownie points with John after all.
She felt a pleasant buzzing at her hip where her purse dangled from her shoulder and realized her phone was vibrating. She should have shut it off, but had forgotten. She plucked it out of a side pocket and looked at it. It was her nanny. What was she bothering her about now?
"Sorry, I have to take this," Bianca said to the other girls and turned away, putting the phone to her ear. "Yes, Camilla?"
"Ma'am, it's Sebby."
"Stop calling him that. It's Sebastian. Not Sebby. Not Seb. No nicknames. Do you understand me?"
"I understand, ma'am. I'm sorry. But you have to come."
"What for?"
"He's sick. He can't breathe. It was the croup, but I think he's got an infection. He needs to see a doctor."
"Fine, I'll make an appointment tomorrow."
"No, ma'am. I think he will die. Nothing is helping. He needs to go to the emergency room tonight."
"Then you take him. Why are you bothering me? Don't I pay you enough?"
"But ma'am-"
"Don't argue with me. And don't forget I can find another nanny if I need to. A cheaper one."
"I can't take him!"
"Why not?"
"It has to be a parent. And you told me not to bother mister."
"Fine. Fine. I'll come. But you should start looking for another job, I think."
"But Sebby!"
"What did I tell you? Oh, shut up with your crying!" Bianca punched the end button violently. There went her night and her plans for Kate. All because of a stupid nanny and her more-trouble-than-he-was-worth son. Well, she would milk this, at least. She put on her best worried-mother look, turned around, and headed back toward the cluster of girls that now included Chelsea.
Strawberry Daiquiri
Chelsea wistfully watched Bianca stride out of Bembe, her dress floating behind her and her thick dark hair tossing as she stepped through the door, out onto the pavement, and out of sight. Chelsea let out a colossal sigh of craving, the tragic story of Sebastian's horribly neglectful nanny and Bianca's need to save the day still ringing in her ears.
She wanted a baby, too: a Sebastian of her own, someone who loved her and needed her that much. More, she wanted to be a baby again
, the
baby. The youngest of three daughters, she had been the prettiest of them all and most loved little girl in the world. If she wanted something back then, all she had to do was turn her big blue eyes on her daddy and ask and he would give it to her. If only she could go back to those days before she was ten and her daddy died of a massive heart attack, right out on their front lawn, falling down behind the lawnmower, which stood and roared senselessly on while its master convulsed in the freshly cut grass and then became still.
Nothing was ever right again after that. They never had enough money, always made do and scraped by. Chelsea, once dressed only in the best designer children's wear, wore hand-me-downs from her sisters that were often saggy from wear and stained. They moved from the pretty little clapboard house on Dogwood Lane to a small cheap apartment where the three girls were forced to share a bedroom. Having never shared anything before and two of them already well into their teens, the claws came out and it was a daily battle of who-got-what.
Chelsea sighed again, this time a shuddering one and then shook her head, straightening. The make-do lifestyle she'd tolerated for years was about to come to an end. Travis wanted her, and she was about to remind him of that fact. She took a sip of her strawberry daiquiri and looked around at the other girls. Should she say something about the lipstick now? No, she'd wait until the lesson started and they were distracted.
As if echoing her thoughts, Sharon said, "When does this lesson start again?"
"Just a few more minutes, I think," Chelsea said.
Sharon gave her a sly look, "So, what was up with that guy you were talking to? Anything there? I've always wondered why you liked these places, but I have to admit, they're starting to grow on me. It's kind of fun, in a cheesy-sleazy way."
"Oh, stop," Chelsea said, clucking her tongue. "You love it. I'm so glad I finally got you out. Now you're addicted. No more nights in with the cat for you." She sang the last bit, happy again. Having a big posse of girls was essential: that way if one of them couldn't make it out, you could call on the others. Although she was betting heavily on Travis, she still preferred to hedge her bets. That way you couldn't lose.
"So? Are you going to tell me?"
"That guy? Are you kidding? Guaranteed he's more broke than I am."
"So? You'll be broke together. You'll live on love: you, Romeo, and your twenty bambinos."
Chelsea laughed. "You're nuts, you know that?"
"Aha!" Sharon said, bugging out her eyes crazily and speaking in a Transylvanian-sounding accent. "You have found out the truth! And now you must be forced to drink the anti-memory serum!" She pushed her nearly-full martini in Chelsea's face.
Chelsea made a moue of disgust. "I hate drinks like that!"
"Drink!"
Chelsea rolled her eyes. "All right. One sip. And if I barf, it's all your fault."
Sharon cackled and handed the glass to Chelsea. "Ah, ha, ha! Drink!"
Chelsea took a sip and felt it pierce her throat. "Gah!" She said, sputtering and handing back the drink quickly.
Sharon's face grew peaceful again. "You remember nothing. It was all a figment of your imagination. Fluffy little clouds, floating through your mind."
Chelsea giggled, feeling a little high, and said, "You've got that right. I am blond."
Kate's bleached spiky head popped up into their range of vision, clearly listening in on their conversation. "Me, too?"
Lucie said, perking up and peering around at the stage, "Hey, I think the lesson's about to start. Though, I don't know if I'll be joining you. My hip's really been bothering me."
"Lucie!" Chelsea wailed, and stamped her foot. "Come on! That's why we're here!"
Lucie shook her head at Chelsea's display, but said, "Oh, all right. But just for a little bit."
But the salsa dance lesson turned out to be more fun than anyone expected. They started by facing forward while the teacher walked the assembled group through the steps, everyone stepping forward and back en masse. The four girls kept landing on each other's feet and colliding while laughing harder and harder until they were clutching at each other in bouts of hysterics. Lucie made it through the whole lesson, Sharon was hamming it up, and even Kate got into it, having more rhythm and style than Chelsea would've thought possible if she hadn't seen it herself.
Too soon, the lesson ended and gyrating couples started filling the floor. Chelsea found herself dancing with a talented lean-hipped Italian who swooped down on her as soon as the lesson broke up and moved her around the floor with such expertise she almost believed she originated the moves that had her shaking and twirling to the beat. As they made another circuit of the floor, she saw Sharon standing on the sidelines with Kate and Lucie. Sharon rolled her eyes and fluttered her eyelashes elaborately at Chelsea, clutching her hands together under her chin as if overwhelmed and mouthing "Oh, Romeo!" Chelsea couldn't help but laugh.
"What are you laughing at, my princess?" Gianni, her dancing partner, asked.
"My friend," Chelsea answered and twirled, realizing she was having a great time. Then she remembered the lipstick and Travis. It was getting late. Travis, if he was at the Bedford, might go home soon and she'd miss her chance. She stopped, stepping away from Gianni.
"What?" he asked, stopping and peering at her.
"I've got to go. I'm sorry," she said. Without waiting for his reply, she turned, snatched up her purse where she had left it on the floor, and jogged across to where the other girls were watching the crowd. "Hey, you guys. I forgot my lipstick in my car. I need it," she burst out before realizing how strange this sounded right after she'd been dancing. She should have gone to the bathroom first, made it seem like a fresh discovery.