Read Nothing But Trouble Online

Authors: Bettye Griffin

Nothing But Trouble (17 page)

Chapter 20
B
rittany left for a three-day stay in New Orleans with Gil and Vanessa the week after school let out. “Mom, it's fun here,” Brittany said when she called from their hotel. “There are people juggling and making like statues in the street, and some people wear crazy outfits. We saw one man dressed in a purple coat trimmed with white-and-black fur, and these thick-soled white boots.”
“And a huge Afro, too, I'll bet.”
“How did you know?”
“Just a hunch.” The man Brittany saw obviously enjoyed dressing in the seventies style. “Tell me about your hotel.”
“Vanessa and me—I mean Vanessa and I—have our own room and bathroom upstairs. Mr. Gil's room is downstairs. We have our own bathroom up here, too.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Did we! Mr. Gil brought us to a deli where the sandwiches are as long as my whole arm. Tomorrow he's going to bring us to see a real live plantation outside of the city.”
“You'll probably learn a lot about our people's history. Is Mr. Albacete there? I'd like to talk to him for a minute.”
“Sure, Mom. I'll call you tomorrow.”
Dana heard the thumping sound as Brittany descended the stairs to Gil's quarters. A moment later Gil's cheerful voice touched her ear. “Hi, Dana.”
“Hi! I hear the girls are having a good time.”
“Yeah, we walked across the French Quarter and ate at Johnny Po'Boys. They got a kick out of some of the sights.”
“I'm sure they did. Brittany described someone who sounded like a pimp.” She couldn't keep the concern out of her voice.
“Yeah, well, you find all kinds of folks in the Quarter. You've been here; you know that. But don't worry, Dana. I gave them the lecture about not laughing or staring at people, and no one will approach them with me around. We're in a nice hotel.”
“Yes, I know.” Dana had visited the hotel's Web site when Gil gave her the name of the place he chose.
“I'm going to go over to Harrah's and hit the blackjack table in about an hour, but I'll be back before dark. The girls have plenty to eat. They could only eat half of their po'boys at lunch, so they brought the other halfback with them. They picked up some dessert at Johnny's as well, and of course they couldn't eat it, so they doggie bagged that as well.”
“Do you really think they'll be okay there by themselves?”
“Of course, Dana. If I didn't, I'd never leave them. Vanessa will call my cell phone if she needs me for anything. Stop worrying, will you?” he said good-naturedly.
“It's just that Brittany is all I have left, Gil. If anything happened to her I couldn't bear it.”
For a moment silence filled the air. “I hope I didn't sound insensitive,” Gil said, “but I hope you understand that I love my daughter as much as you love yours.”
Dana felt about as big as a pin. “Now I feel stupid.”
“That wasn't my intention, Dana.”
“I know.”
“Tell you what. I'll call you when I get back to the room. Will that make you feel better?”
“Yes, it will.”
“All right then. You'll hear from me in a few hours.”
“Oh, I'm so happy to see you!” Dana exclaimed, pulling Brittany into a tight embrace. “I missed you so much!”
“Gee, Mom, I was only gone for three days. What are you going to do when I go to Nassau?” Brittany traditionally spent a month with her grandparents and uncle.
“I'll be all right.” Dana tore herself away, not wanting Brittany to feel smothered. She waved to Vanessa, who sat in the front seat of Gil's Murano, and then turned to Gil, who had gotten out from behind the driver's seat and retrieved Brittany's small suitcase from the trunk. “Back safe and sound,” he said pleasantly. Then, speaking to Vanessa, he said, “You can stay there. I'm just going to carry this in, and I'll be right out.” He fell into step beside Dana.
“Safe and sound, thanks to you, Gil,” she said. “You're right, I shouldn't have worried. Next time I'll know better.”
“Maybe next time you'll come along.”
They smiled at each other, and suddenly Dana felt something other than a friendly bond between two single parents. Gil was looking at her in a way he never had before. She knew that look, the look a man gives a woman he's interested in.
Her tongue suddenly expanded in her mouth, making it hard to talk. “Well, maybe,” she managed to say.
Gil put Brittany's bag down. “I'd better get Vanessa home. I'm sure her mother is anxious.”
“Thanks again for bringing Brittany along, Gil.”
“Sure. I'll be talking to you, okay?”
“Okay.” She shut the door the moment he stepped outside. Her heart was beating fast enough to power a jet. Had she imagined it, or had Gil Albacete just flirted with her? And what had he meant by saying he would be talking to her?
She'd already had a relationship with an inappropriate man that ended badly. She didn't want to do it again. Fantasizing about Gil as a man both desirable and unattainable was one thing. Acting on her fantasy by getting involved with him was something else. Of course, the possibility always existed that she'd just imagined the way he looked at her. She hoped so.
Because if she hadn't, she could very easily find herself in the middle of a situation she didn't have the faintest idea how to handle.
Chapter 21
T
he new workweek began on a high point. Through CDN's ad on the Internet, Norell had found two new transcriptionists who would be working full-time. One lived in South Carolina, the other in Texas. Norell spent the morning on a conference call training them on the software and the formatting of the accounts they would be working on.
By Thursday Norell found herself wishing it was Saturday; she was exhausted. Even with two new people their workload remained heavy, and there were other distractions. Paying the household bills had always been Norell's responsibility, but being so busy, she could barely keep up with getting dinner on the table. She'd bought a pair of shoes on sale at Dillard's last month and had forgotten to mail in her check. Because the bill was due today, she had to drive over to the mall or be slapped with a late fee that would be more than the cost of her purchase.
While she was there, she thought maybe she could pick up a little something for Dana. This wasn't a good time for her friend, who faced the dual blow of the first anniversary of Kenny's accident and Father's Day.
Then there was that mysterious business with Sean. She didn't know what was going on with that. Dana announced without elaboration, and in a tone that suggested she didn't wish to discuss the matter further, that she would no longer be seeing him. Norell had asked Cécile about it, and she hadn't known anything either. Maybe he'd reconciled with his wife or something. At any rate, Norell agreed with Cécile's statement that whatever happened, Dana was better off without him.
Under these circumstances Norell felt Dana warranted some special attention, no matter how busy she was. Still, these errands were taking time away from her already busy schedule. Vic wouldn't be happy with how late she would have to work tonight. She'd make it up to him by suggesting they meet downtown for dinner tomorrow. Since it was Friday, she would have the entire weekend to get the work completed before it came due on Monday.
She turned into the mall entrance, continuing to drive until she was near her destination. The mall had just opened for business a half hour ago and wasn't crowded. She started to pull into a space right past the ones reserved for persons with disabilities when she noticed a small white sign at the foot of the space. Norell squinted—she didn't know if it was her imagination, but her vision didn't seem as sharp as it used to be. Probably all those hours in front of the computer screen. Maybe this was a special space for the Employee of the Month or something.
To her amazement, when she focused on the sign, it read “
PARKING FOR EXPECTANT MOTHERS.”
She sucked her teeth and drove on. That was the stupidest thing she'd seen in a long time. Parking for expectant mothers! Why not parking for tall people, or for short people, fat people, skinny people, good-looking people, ugly people? It seemed to Norell that plenty of other people could use a parking space this close to the mall entrance. Elderly people, for example. Plenty of senior citizens had difficulty walking, but not necessarily to the extent where they qualified for handicapped parking. My goodness, if every old person in Florida needed a handicapped parking spot, there wouldn't be anything left for the rest of the population. And what about the woman struggling with several small children, particularly if one was an infant? Surely she would benefit from having a space close to the entrance. It would reduce the amount of time needed to escort children through traffic, since drivers often seemed to think they were on a highway instead of in a parking lot.
She was tempted to park there any damn way, but in the end drove a few spaces down to an empty spot. Why this ridiculous admiration of women who were mothers? It almost bordered on worship. It was a club of which she'd never be a member. She'd have to get used to it.
The sight of someone actually using a pay phone triggered the thought that her phone bill was due. She'd have to pay it online as soon as she got home. Each month it got harder and harder to keep up with her household while satisfying the demands of her business. She was going to have to take some time away from CDN to get her bills in order, maybe arrange to have them paid by automatic bank draft. Vic would have a fit if the phone or lights got cut off because she'd forgotten to pay the bill.
She glanced at her watch. She still had to go to OfficeMax and pick up a new toner for her printer; she had to print out the payroll checks and statements today. She'd really have to hustle if she planned to surprise Vic with dinner. He'd been so grumpy lately; she tried to make an extra effort to please him. She planned to make his favorite, linguine with white clam sauce, tonight.
She was back at home, rewarding herself with a cigarette after installing the toner while the paychecks printed, when Dana called. “Can you help me with the sports-medicine clinic, Norell? I can't do this all by myself, and Cécile's not working today because of the funeral.” Cécile's aunt had died a few days before in South Florida, so she, her daughters, and her sister Micheline had driven down to attend the services.
“Yes, I just finished the payroll. I'm going to start transcribing in a little bit and work well into the evening. Don't worry, we'll get it done.” Norell hated transcribing for that account—she found all those sprained wrists and ankles and torn ligaments boring—but she had a financial stake in keeping the client happy, so she'd force herself. She supposed hearing about muscle and joint pains for a few hours was better than working with her absolute least favorite, obstetrics.
“How's Cécile doing?” she asked. “That's no picnic, driving all the way down to West Palm and then back again.”
“At least she has her sister with her to help with the driving.” After the incident with Sean, Dana didn't like mentioning Micheline by name. “I told her to take it easy. She wouldn't want to bring on a miscarriage.”
“Miscarriage? Cécile's
pregnant
?”
Dana didn't answer right away, and Norell had a feeling she was lamenting having let what obviously had been a secret slip out. “How can that be?” she pressed. “She had a tubal ligation, remember?”
“Norell, how many times have you transcribed the doctor saying that the patients were informed of the odds of failure?”
“Yes, but I've never heard of it actually happening. Wait a minute. They also say there's a possibility of an ectopic—”
“She had a test. The fetus is in the uterus, where it belongs.”
Norell recognized the hard edge in Dana's voice. “I know what you're thinking, Dana. You think I'm such a monster, and maybe I am. But I went through so much and have nothing to show for it, and she's got a house full of kids. She gets everything while I have nothing.”
“Norell, there's no excuse for wishing a tubal pregnancy on Cécile. Besides, you're exaggerating. You have a husband who loves you, a beautiful home, money in the bank, and you're healthy.”
“Cécile's got all those things you mentioned, except the beautiful home, and since she said they're looking, she'll soon have that too. And she has much more.” Norell took a deep breath.
Everyone doesn't get a happy ending
, she reminded herself. “I don't really wish anything bad for Cécile or her baby, and I know it's not up to her to decide who gets what out of life, but with her having so many babies you'd think I'd be able to have just one.”
“In an ideal world, you would be.”
A few tears of frustration had escaped from Norell's eyes as she talked, but suddenly she remembered that sign at the mall parking lot. She pictured Cécile pulling her van into that space and getting out, and suddenly Norell began crying openly in great sobs that left her gasping for air. “I'm sorry,” she said when she caught her breath.
“Norell, I wish there was something I could do.”
“It's all right. It's just such a shock. I'll get over it.” Her tears subsided, and she chuckled, or tried to. It came out sounding more like a sniffle. “I can hear Cécile going on and on now. I swear, that girl talks about her kids more than Kathie Lee Gifford used to when she was on TV.”
“Are you sure you're going to be all right? I feel terrible, spilling it like that. I promised Cécile I wouldn't say anything. Maybe she won't be too upset with me, since I know she dreaded telling you. You've been very brave, doing so much for CDN and everything, but I can imagine how devastating this whole experience has been for you.”
“It's hard trying to get used to. Sometimes I can go to the mall, like I did this morning, and look right through all those toddlers in strollers or those adorable display windows at Baby Gap, and then other times it gets me down, like it did when we used to go on Saturday afternoons. Even back then I had a feeling I might have a problem conceiving, because of what my doctor told me years ago.”
On the other end of the line Dana nodded. Before Kenny's accident she and Norell used to hit the mall just about every weekend, walking up and down the shop-lined perimeter for exercise and then canceling it out by pigging out on ice cream sodas and foot-long hot dogs at A&W. “You canceled on me a couple of times. I remember bringing Brittany, and sometimes her friend Vanessa too, just to have someone to walk around with.”
“You could have asked Cécile,” Norell said sweetly.
Dana knew Norell was trying to be funny at Cécile's expense, but at least she wasn't crying anymore. “Come now, Norell. You know Cécile is too busy hunting down bargains at garage sales or out at the price club buying margarine tubs and cereal boxes the size of Delaware to go to the mall.”
They giggled.
“Anyway, then Kenny had his accident,” Norell said, “and you couldn't afford to go shopping. I was glad not to have to go to the mall. But Cécile was still a problem. I found it too depressing to be around her and listen to her talk about her family.”
All Dana's warm feelings for her friend's situation evaporated like spilled water on a hot street. “You make it sound like my husband's death was the ideal excuse not to have to go to the mall with me,” she said coldly.
“Oh, no, Dana. It's not that way,” Norell objected. “You know how devastated I was when Kenny died. That was just poor phrasing on my part. I'm sorry.”
Dana sighed. Norell had been her rock in those dark days following Kenny's death. She had been so distraught that even now the memories were still fuzzy, but she knew Norell and Vic provided invaluable assistance. She didn't know how she would have managed without them.
“All right,” she said. “I guess you're not expressing yourself all that well because you're upset. But you have to realize that Cécile talks about her family because that's what's most important to her. It's not like she doesn't have any other interests in life, but I suppose everything does revolve around Michael and the kids.”
“I know it's not right for me to take out my frustration on her.” Norell sighed deeply. “I'm going to call her when she gets back and tell her I'm happy for her. And it's not just lip service, Dana. I really mean it.”

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