Husband Wanted (18 page)

“There is
no
working things out, Dad. I take Mandy out for pizza once a week, and Frannie won’t even come out of her bedroom. That woman sure as hell knows how to hold a grudge.”

“Part of the reason may be because she’s so busy,” Walter said. “You know she started interning at the mental health center a couple of weeks ago. Not only that, she’s trying to finish up her classes so she can graduate in June. Add to that, she’s a new mother. The poor woman has her hands full.”

“You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. But it doesn’t take more than five minutes for someone to come out of their bedroom and speak to a person. I deserve that much.”

“Maybe it’s painful for her to see you.” Walter paused. “Does Mandy know there is a problem?”

“I haven’t said anything to her, but, yes, I’m sure she knows there is a problem. She doesn’t know that Frannie and I have parted ways permanently.”

“Maybe if you—”

Clay held up his hand. “Dad, I’m done, okay? I thought Frannie and I had something special. I was wrong. I’m moving on.”

“Her name is Regina Gray,” Blair said, sipping a cup of coffee at Frannie’s kitchen table. “She’s an architect. My friend saw them having dinner at La Fourchette a couple of evenings ago.”

Frannie tried not to show any emotion, but she felt as though she had just been gut-punched. “Regina must be a fan of French food,” she said, keeping her voice low so Mandy wouldn’t overhear from her bedroom. Not that it was likely. Her daughter had been on her cell phone almost an hour, chatting with her new best friend, even though she was supposed to be doing homework. After two months of living together, Mandy had tried to bend the rules several times, only to discover there were consequences. Frannie was thankful for her supervisor, Linda, not only because the woman was an excellent teacher and applauded Frannie’s determination and hard work; but because she had three daughters and was a wealth of information.

“Hello?” Blair said. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Clay is free to see anyone he likes,” Frannie said.

Blair gave her a long, hard look. “What’s with you, Frannie? Are you telling me you no longer have feelings for the man?” Blair didn’t wait for a response. “Because I don’t believe it for a minute.”

“Of course I have feelings for him,” Frannie said, a bit more forcefully than she’d meant, “but what am I supposed to do? Have a wild love affair with him right under my daughter’s nose? Even if I were so inclined, where would I find the time, what with learning how to be a mom to a thirteen-year-old girl, working thirty hours a week, and trying to finish all my classes in time for graduation? I have a lot on my plate in case you didn’t notice. And while we’re discussing it, why would I disrupt everything to spend time with a man who can’t even commit to what color socks he’s going to wear.” Frannie had to stop and catch her breath.

“Oh, like you don’t have commitment problems,” Blair said. “How many dates have you gone on in the last four or five years?”

“I’ve dated plenty of times. I just haven’t met anyone I’d
want
to commit to.”

“Sounds like you and Clay are in the same boat,” Blair said, “if you’ll pardon the cliché. Maybe what you’ve really been looking for is each other.”

Frannie heard a noise and turned. Mandy stood in the doorway of her room, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Honey, what’s wrong?” she asked, coming to her feet. “Are you ill?”

The girl broke into sobs. “I heard everything you said. It’s my fault you and Clay broke up.”

“You were listening to our conversation?” Blair asked.

“I’m sorry,” Mandy said. “I shouldn’t have. But now I know why Mom and Clay no longer speak to each other.”

Frannie pulled a chair from the table, and motioned for Mandy to sit. “First of all, it is wrong to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations. Secondly, it is
not
your fault that Clay and I are no longer seeing each other. Why would you even think such a thing?”

“It’s because I take up so much of your time,” Mandy said. “You’re always having to do stuff for me. It’s all about me. Me, me, me. If I hadn’t come here—”

“If you hadn’t come here Clay and I would never have gotten together in the first place,” Frannie said. She sat in the chair next to the girl and scooted closer. “Mandy, you’re the most important person in my life. You’re my daughter, my own flesh and blood. I am the luckiest person in the world because I have you.” She felt her eyes mist and feared she would start crying as well.

Mandy leaned against her, obviously seeking comfort, but the tears continued to fall. Frannie glanced across the table at Blair, who seemed to be struggling with her own emotions.

“It’s not fair,” Mandy said, “that people can fall in and out of love so easily. I’m never going to let that happen to me. It hurts too much.”

“Love doesn’t have to hurt,” Blair said gently. “It can be a good thing.”

“Not for me,” Mandy said. “I loved my adoptive parents, and look what happened. They died. Mom and Clay were in love, but they seldom got to spend time alone because I was always around.”

“You are
not
responsible for any of that,” Frannie said. “Not every relationship works out. All of us eventually lose someone we love. Life is not always fair. But you can’t stop loving people.”

Blair reached into her purse and pulled out a small pack of tissue. She snatched a couple out and shoved the pack toward Frannie. “Listen up, Mandy,” Blair said. “If life was fair and everybody was happy, your mom wouldn’t have a job. She’d still be working at the Griddle and Grill.”

Frannie chuckled. “Don’t knock it, Blair. That’s where I got my training; listening to my customers’ troubles. After more than four years of that I should have my PhD in clinical psychology. I should have
Dr. Phil’s
job.”

She checked her wristwatch and saw that it was time to start dinner. “This ought to cheer you up, Mandy,” she said. “I’m making spaghetti and meat sauce, and Blair is joining us for dinner.”

“I can’t,” Blair said, coming to her feet. “The book club is meeting at my place tonight at seven. I have to go buy wine.”

Frannie looked amused. “What book did the members choose to read?”

Blair planted both hands on her hips. “Silly, girl, you know we don’t
really
read anything. We drink wine and trash our ex-husbands and ex-boyfriends. Oops, Mandy, you didn’t hear that.” She stood. “I’ll let myself out.”

“Are you feeling better?” Frannie asked Mandy as they stood as well.

The girl shrugged. “I guess. May I go to my room?”

“I was going to ask you to make a salad.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Not even for spaghetti?” Frannie said in disbelief.

Mandy shook her head. “I need to do my homework.”

“You would have already finished your homework had you not spent an hour on your cell phone,” Frannie said in her best mom voice.

“Am I in trouble?”

“Not this time.” Frannie figured the girl had suffered enough. “There are few rules in this house,” she said. “Turning off your cell phone while doing homework and having dinner should be easy to remember.” She put the package of thawed hamburger meat in the refrigerator. “Guess we’ll have spaghetti tomorrow night. If you get hungry later there’s stuff in the fridge for a sandwich.”

“Thanks, Mom.” The girl went into her room and closed the door.

“What do you mean you don’t feel like going to school today?” Frannie asked Mandy the next morning. “Are you sick?” She pressed her hand against the girl’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. What hurts?”

“I have a headache and stomachache.”

“Do you feel like you need to throw up?”

“No.”

Frannie checked her wristwatch. “I should probably see if I can get you in to see the doctor.”

“I don’t
need
to go to the doctor. I just want to stay in bed and rest.”

“I can’t go to work and leave you by yourself. What if you get worse?” “I don’t have the bubonic plague, Mom. I just don’t feel good.”

Frannie wasn’t feeling so hot either, but her problem was fatigue. She had lain awake most of the night thinking about Clay and his new girlfriend. She had forgotten to ask Blair what the woman looked like. Not that it mattered. Well, okay, it mattered, but it was none of her business. “Do you think you can eat something?” she asked Mandy, knowing it was a dumb question if the girl had a stomachache, but she had not eaten since lunch the day before.

“Mom!”

“What!”

“You’re overreacting! I can’t rest as long as you’re standing there interrogating me. Please. Just go to work. If I start feeling worse, I’ll call you.”

Frannie fretted as she showered and dressed for work. When she looked in on Mandy the girl was sleeping. She made a sandwich and stuck it in the refrigerator in case her daughter got hungry, then wrote a note and left it on the kitchen table. Finally, she grabbed her purse, cell phone, and the inexpensive briefcase she had purchased for work, and she hurried out the front door.

“Boy, am I glad to see you,” Linda said, once Frannie had arrived. The woman held a thick stack of files. She suddenly frowned. “What’s wrong? You look worried.”

“Mandy isn’t feeling well. She’s home in bed. I’m sure it’s nothing, maybe a stomach virus. I’ll check on her later.”

“Let me know if you need to leave early,” Linda said.

“What have you got for me?” Frannie asked, forcing herself to sound perky and enthusiastic. She did not want to be the kind of employee who dragged a lot of baggage around. She wanted Linda to know she could be counted on.

“I’m going to be in meetings today,” Linda said, giving an eye-roll. “If were weren’t so backed up with work, I would have suggested you attend as well.”

“Yes, well, we’ve certainly been busy,” Frannie agreed, even though she loved the challenge.

“It’s called under-staffed,” Linda said. “But what else is new? These are the files you set up for our new clients this week. Since you did intakes or sat in on them, and you took notes, I would like for you to add your information to their files.”

“No problem.”

“Once you’ve done that, I’d like for you to come up with a treatment plan. It will be up to you to monitor and evaluate their progress.” She passed the stack of files to Frannie. “We’ll go over them on Monday.” She started down the hall. “Let me know if you need to leave early to see to your daughter.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Frannie carried the files to a small office she was using for the time being. The computer was older and slower, but it got the job done. She turned it on and called Mandy’s cell phone.

“How are you feeling?” she asked the girl.

“I was fine until you woke me,” she answered.

“Sorry ’bout that,” Frannie said. “Have you eaten anything?”

“I’m not hungry. I might grab something later. May I go back to sleep now?”

“Call if you need me,” Frannie said. Once she hung up, she opened the first file. It already contained the client’s basic information as well as a few remarks Linda had written when they were doing a joint interview. Frannie reached into her briefcase for the yellow legal pad that contained her notes, which were extensive and would have to be rewritten. She had a lot of ideas, some of them recommended by other students in her internship class, where they shared their learning experiences. She knew that goal-setting was important; otherwise, she would not have been able to achieve all she had during the last four years. The secret was to start out with easily attainable goals so the clients could enjoy some small successes and gain self-confidence. A good support system was invaluable. Everybody needed someone who believed in them, held them accountable, and nudged them now and then when they felt overwhelmed or thought of giving up. She’d had unconditional support from Blair, as well as a number of customers, including Alice and Grace Dempsey. She wondered if they knew how much she had appreciated them.

She logged on and went to work.

Clay studied the blueprints before him. He was getting ready to start phase two of the housing development that he’d started some five years earlier, and there were only had a couple of lots left. He glanced across the desk at Regina. “These look good,” he said.

“I aim to please.”

“Do you have your bill with you, or do you plan to mail it?”

She reached into her oversized satchel and pulled out an invoice. “Should I deduct the dinner at La Fourchette?” she asked, smiling.

Clay returned the smile. He had enjoyed working with Regina; she was a top-notch architect who had managed to capture his vision for the new phase. But she had been less than subtle letting him know she was available. He feared taking her to a French restaurant had sent the wrong message. “No, you earned the meal fair and square, for hanging around after hours.”

“It was my pleasure.” She handed him the invoice. “Let me know if you have any questions.”

Clay reached inside his desk for his checkbook. “I make this out to Gray Architectural, right?”

“Yes.”

Clay wrote the check and passed it to her. “If you’ll give me some of your business cards I’ll be sure to recommend you to a couple of contractors I know.”

“That’s very kind of you,” she said.

“Kindness has nothing to do with it. You’re damn good at your job.”

She looked pleased as she passed some of her cards to him. “So, what are your plans for the weekend?”

He grinned. “I have a date with a very cute thirteen-year-old tomorrow morning. We’re going horseback riding. She is fond of one of my mares.”

“What about Sunday?”

Clay felt uneasy. “My father and I are playing golf. It’s a pretty big deal since we haven’t teamed up in years.” He could see the disappointment in her eyes. He stood, hoping she would get the hint that their meeting was over.

“Well, you’ve got my number if you have questions. Don’t forget I wrote my cell phone number on the back in case you can’t reach me at the office.” She came to her feet. “Thanks again for your business, Clay.” She offered her hand and he shook it before Clay walked her to the door, opened it, and waited for her to pass through. As smart and attractive as she was, most men would have been flattered by her attempts to kick the relationship up a notch, but watching her drive away left him feeling relieved.