Chapter 22
T
he bowling alley during cosmic bowling sessions reminded Dana of a disco, all loud music and flashing lights. Most of the groups of patrons included children. She bowled two games with Brittany, Gil, and Vanessa, but begged off when the girls wanted to play a third. “Oh, come on, Mom,” Brittany said in a wheedling tone. “You promised.”
“I'm not saying we have to leave, Britt. I'm just saying I'm not up to playing any more. The rest of you can bowl another game. I'm sitting this one out.” She handed Brittany a five. “You already had a snack, so bring my change.”
“I think I'll sit this one out, too,” Gil said. He reached for his wallet. “Vanessa, go pay for your game quick, before they sell this lane to someone else.”
They watched as the girls rushed off to the front counter. Dana turned to Gil and sighed. “Sometimes I think Brittany sees me as someone who's on summer vacation, like she is. It's as if she has no idea that I work eight hours each day, plus an additional three or four hours on my business. Bowling those two games wore me out.” She gestured to the tall table and bar stools just beyond their designated lane area. “Shall we sit?”
“How about a nice cold beer? Or a glass of wine if you'd prefer.”
“Wine, please.”
Gil went off to the bar, then returned a short time later with their drinks, a tall tumbler for his beer and a small wineglass for her. For a few moments they simply watched Brittany and Vanessa roll balls, cheering them on and offering encouragement at those near-spares and almost-strikes.
“So you're working hard these days, are you?” Gil asked, loudly because of the noisy environment.
“Yes, but at least I can see the results fairly quickly. I'm happy to say that business is booming.”
“That's wonderful.”
“I'll still miss Brittany terribly while she's away, though.”
“Why don't we have dinner one night next week?” Gil suggested.
Dana looked at him through confused eyes. “But Brittany is leaving for her grandparents' on Thursday. We'll be busy getting her things together. We couldn't possibly join you and Vanessa for dinner.”
“Actually, my invitation didn't extend to Brittany, or to Vanessa either, for that matter. I was thinking more in terms of a one-on-one between you and me.”
“Oh! I didn't understand.” Dana really hadn't. When Vanessa called Brittany about going bowling tonight, she said her father would be coming along, too. Dana and Brittany arranged to meet them at the bowling alley. It made perfect sense to Dana for Gil to join them, since Vanessa was spending the weekend at his apartment. The unexpected invitation for dinner went right over her head.
As his intent sank in, she suddenly felt shy. Her feet remained firmly planted in place, but inside she was trembling. This could be a dream come true, or it could be a nightmare if Irene found out. “Gil, uh, do you really think that's a good idea?”
“I won't pretend to not know what you mean, but let me ask you this: What does your first instinct tell you?”
Dana quickly decided that only the truth would do. “I'd be inclined to accept. I'd
like
to accept. But as I said, I don't know how wise a choice that would be.”
“Okay, so you'd like to go out with me. The fly in the ointment is, I presume, my ex-wife.”
“You have to agree it could get rather awkward, Gil. I have a lot of contact with Irene because of Brittany and Vanessa being so close. We help each other out. I've kept Vanessa when she had something to do, and she's kept Brittany for me.” Dana specifically remembered caring for Vanessa on Mother's Day while Irene went to dinner with Gil. Irene came for Vanessa afterward, beaming but typically close mouthed. They must have had an amiable meal, but that was all. Gil's invitation to her proved that nothing had come of it.
“Well, for now we're talking about one meal together, so why don't we just do it, and we'll deal with Irene later. Uh, you do have another babysitter you can use?”
Dana let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. “Yes.” It would hardly do to ask Irene to sit with Brittany while she went out with Gil, but her teenage neighbor was usually available. “All right,” she said. “Dinner it is.”
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It was nearly eleven o'clock when Dana got home, but she decided to take a chance and call Norell, whom she knew often worked late. She desperately wanted to discuss Gil's invitation and her concerns about it with someone, and she definitely couldn't call Cécile at this hour. Funny. For years the three of them had managed to have lunch together at least once a month, but since they'd gone into business they'd all been so busy that the only time they managed together was for CDN's weekly staff meetings. Discussion at their meetings was limited to business matters, after which they all returned to their respective home offices to work.
Fortunately for Dana, Norell answered the phone sounding wide awake. “I'm just closing up shop,” she said in response to Dana's asking if she could spare a few minutes to talk. “Eleven o' clock is my limit. I want to spend some time with Vic. He's been a little testy lately, says I'm devoting too much time to CDN.”
“Oh. That's not good. I wouldn't want CDN to put a strain on your marriage.”
“It's not strained,” Norell said quickly. “I'm just concentrating on becoming more of a morning person, getting up and starting work early like you and Cécile, so my evenings can be free.”
Dana chuckled. “As I remember, when we worked in the office you had trouble getting in by nine.”
“Like I said, it'll take some effort. It'll be fine. So what's on your mind?”
Dana told her about Gil. “One part of me is overjoyed that he wants to see me socially, but the other part is a little worried about how his ex will react.”
“Isn't she the one you said is kind of cold?”
“I wouldn't call her cold, but she doesn't have the most brilliant personality in the world. She's always been pleasant, but doesn't really have much to say unless it's about the weather or something general like that. I've known Irene for at least six years, and I still don't have a clue about her personally.”
“That works in your favor. You'd be right to have second thoughts about going out with Bill if you and Irene were friends.”
“Gil.”
“Isn't that what I said?”
“No, Norell, you called him Bill.” Dana wondered if Norell was drinking. She'd said she'd finished work for the day, but Dana felt concern nevertheless. She knew how unhappy Norell had been lately, in spite of her putting on a brave face and calling Cécile to wish her well. Lately it seemed that Norell's drinking had escalated. She mentioned having morning headaches, and later in the day she seemed a lot more mellow than usual. Dana expected her to be as adamantly against the idea of her dating Gil as she had been with Sean.
“Oops. Sorry. Well, it might be a little uncomfortable when you see the ex-wife, but whether or not you want to cope with that is up to you. But I don't think you're doing anything morally wrong, no.”
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“What do you mean, you knew it?” Dana said to Cécile.
“This was bound to happen. You were with him at the beach the other week. You were in touch with him when he took Brittany to New Orleans. When you said he was going along with you and the girls when you went bowling I knew something was in the works.”
“Well, it looks like you were right. But what do you think about my going out with him?”
Cécile sighed. “Dana, can't you find a man to date anywhere in Jacksonville who isn't connected to your past in some way? You know, start a relationship with a man you've never laid eyes on before.”
“So you don't think it's a good idea,” Dana said, her voice low with disappointment. She had Norell in her cornerâeven if her support came courtesy of Smirnoffâand hoped to have Cécile as well.
There was a pause on the other end of the line. Dana imagined Cécile was swallowing those doggone gummi bears again.
“It's not what
I
think that counts,” Cécile finally said. “It's what Brittany and her friend and her friend's mother think. Personally, I don't think any of them will be pleased.” Cécile paused. “Of course, if her mother knows you've been present on all these outings, she's probably sensing what's coming herself.”
“Come on, Cécile. I didn't plan this.”
“You didn't plan Sean, either, did you? And look what happened.”
“This is different. Gil isn't like Sean.”
“And you know this how?”
Dana sighed. “I just know. My instinct tells me, and I trust my instincts.”
“Dana, please don't be offended by this, but it's not your instinct you're listening to. It's that tingling you're getting between your legs.”
“I can't deny that has something to do with it. I'm only human, Cécile.”
“Yes, but I think your instincts are steering you in the wrong direction.” Cécile paused. “You
did
ask what I thought.”
“Yes, I did. And you told me, all right.” Dana changed the subject to something she'd been thinking about in recent days. “Cécile, why don't you and I plan to go out for dinner with Norell, like we used to? We haven't been out since the day we launched CDN.”
“I'd love to, but it's hard to find the time. I'm still working for Precise, and there's Michael, the kids, the baby, and the house hunt.”
“Norell mentioned that Vic wasn't happy about all the time she spends working,” Dana said. “She tried to make light of it, but I'm worried. I don't want her and Vic to break up over this.”
“Break up? Dana, you know how marriage is. It's full of rough patches. Michael was in a snit for weeks when he found out I was pregnant. He's finally accepted it, but most of the time he still makes excuses when it's time to look at houses. He says it takes too much of his weekends, and that when I find one that'll work for us I should bring him to look at it.” She sighed.
“Well, I think Michael is being unfair. After all, you didn't get pregnant by yourself.”
“Oh, please. If it's not my fault, then it's the doctor's fault who tied my tubes. In Michael's opinion,
he
had nothing to do with it.”
“How's the house hunting going, anyway?”
“Lousy. Everything I see that's nice has too high an asking price.”
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Gil called Dana Sunday night. “How's Tuesday? Surely you can get away for a few hours.”
“Yes, I'm sure I can. Brittany is old enough to get her clothes together. I'll just double-check and make sure she's got everything.”
“Great. I'll pick you up at six.”
Dana's stomach did a somersault. “Gil, you can't pick me up.”
“Why not?”
“Brittany might see you!”
“So what if she does? We aren't doing anything wrong, Dana.”
“I agree, but I don't feel Brittany needs to know you and I are having dinner together.”
“That's foolishness. We're single adults spending an evening together. There is nothing whatsoever inappropriate about that.”
Dana felt her resentment building. “Gil, why don't I call you back tomorrow?” she suggested tightly. “I have your card. I'll call you at the office.”
“All right.”
She resisted the urge to slam the phone down. Where the hell did he get off, telling her what her daughter should or should not know? She glanced at her watch. Eight-thirty. It was a cinch that Vanessa was home with Irene by now. He hadn't even called her to finalize their date until his own daughter was out of the house, yet he wanted to flaunt their date in front of
her
child. It looked like Gil the fantasy held a lot more appeal than the real thing. Well, he had a surprise coming. Tomorrow she'd call and cancel.
Chapter 23
C
écile turned to her stepdaughter. The multicolored balloons tied to the mailbox to mark the party site told her she had the right house. “Here we are. You have a good time, Monet. I'll see you at five o'clock.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Monet opened the car door and got out, nearly dropping the shorts set they had selected for her friend Daphne, who was turning nine. “Bye!”
“Bye.” Cécile waited in the car as Monet got to the front door and rang the bell, not pulling off until the door was opened by a woman she presumed was Daphne's mother. Monet turned and waved, as did the woman. Cécile waved back and drove off.
She usually spent special time with her stepdaughter on weekends when her own daughters were staying with Louis. In addition to missing them, Monet clearly felt left out when Josie, Gaby, and Eleith came back and described the fun things they had done with their father. Cécile grudgingly admitted that Louis did a fine job of keeping the them entertained, bringing them to The Landing in downtown Jacksonville for arcade games and out for ice cream sodas, or to a drive-in movie, a roller rink, a bowling alley, or for go-kart rides.
She and Monet usually went shopping and sometimes went to the moviesâchoosing whatever film the other girls said Louis planned to take them to see. They also walked for exercise. Michael said that even as a toddler Monet had been on the pudgy side. Through exercise and portion control they had both lost ten to fifteen pounds, but of course Cécile had gained all hers back.
In recent weeks they'd gone shopping for the baby. Josie and Gaby, and sometimes even Eleith, raved about their little brother, Pierre, who lived with his mother, Louis's girlfriend. Monet, having been the youngest of Michael's children, had never really been around a baby, and she said she wished she had a little brother or sister. Cécile had a feeling that after the baby came, instead of missing her stepsisters, Monet would be delighted to have her new brother or sister mostly to herself.
Cécile smiled. The kids had all been excited about the baby when she and Michael told them the news. Even the boys had been tickled.
She considered dropping in on Dana, since she was near her house. Jacksonville was huge, with over eight hundred square miles; and the implementation of a magnet school system in Jacksonville meant that schoolchildren had friends who lived in different sections of the city. This San Jose neighborhood was a good five miles from their home in the St. Nicholas area of town, but only about five minutes from Dana's house in Lakewood.
Monet's friend Daphne lived in a well-established community with plenty of greenery and well-kept ranch houses whose ages were given away only by the one-car garages that were popular until the emergence of dual-career couples in the late sixties. Most bore signs of upgrading, like storm windows and those elegant wood doors with stained glass in the center.
She saw an “
OPEN HOUSE”
sign on the corner and on an impulse turned in the direction of the arrow. What the heck, she could see Dana anytime.
The home for sale was on the next street. It was larger than its neighbors, with a second level on the left side and an attractive double front door. Two cars sat parked in the wide driveway, one of which she knew belonged to the real-estate agent.
She rang the bell, which was quickly answered by a sixtyish man with horn-rimmed spectacles who wore a dark suit. “Hello,” he said in a soft-spoken way that, paired with his slight build and dark suit, made her think of a funeral director. “Come right in.”
“Thank you. I was in the neighborhood and saw your sign. Looks like a nice place.”
“Well, let's take the tour,” the agent suggested, thoughtfully stepping back so as not to obstruct her view.
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Cécile couldn't keep the excitement she felt out of her voice as she recounted what she saw to Michael. “It's perfect for us. It's a real house, not a messy jumble of rooms some nutty architect designed. It has three bedrooms downstairs, one with a full bath, plus a full bath in the hall. All the hallways are nice and wide, and the foyer is large enough for a good-sized console table. And we can get a computer for the kids' use and put it in the hall by the kids' rooms.”
“Wait a minute. Three bedrooms won't be large enough for us, Cécile.”
“There are three bedrooms downstairs. The owners put a larger master suite upstairs back in sixty-five.”
“Sixty-five! How old is this place?”
“It was built in fifty-four.”
“Fifty-four! That makes it over fifty years old. It's almost as old as this house.”
She tried not to show the frustration she felt. He knew damn well that a newly constructed house would cost more than they could afford. “Yes, but it's a lot larger. The kitchen is huge, and it's been redecorated, too, in white, red, and black. There's an island, plus the owners have a table for six in the corner, and it fits fine.”
“Is that all there is, an eat-in kitchen, or is there a dining room, too?”
“There's a formal dining room. The table in it now seats eight, and there's still room for a bigger one. And the laundry room is big enough to put our freezer in and still have plenty of room for the washer and dryer.” She spoke faster and faster, as if she were afraid of forgetting something if she didn't get the words out right away. “Between the dining room and the laundry room is a den. The people now have a bar, TV, and couch in there, but that could be my office.”
Michael looked impressed. “It does sound nice. What's the asking price?”
“One-seventy.”
“That's twenty grand more than I wanted to spend.” He spoke in a tone that suggested further consideration was out of the question.
“Michael, we won't find anything large enough for that amount, unless you're looking at one of those tiny cottages that's had rooms added here and there over the years and spreads out all haphazardly. In those cases you're paying for the large lots they sit on, because the house itself isn't worth two cents. This is a nice house in a nice neighborhood, and it's the best value we've seen, and we can afford it.”
“All right. I guess it won't hurt to take a look at it.”
She looked at him earnestly. “Michael, my parents told all of us as we grew up that they wanted us to do better than they did. Not only did they want it, they expected it.” She chuckled. “I think Micheline may have gone a little overboard on it, the way she loves nice things, but I agree that it's terribly important for each generation to improve their quality of life. I don't want our children to grow up thinking it's all right to live the way we do, all crammed in like crabs in a barrel. It would be different if we barely made ends meet, like my parents. But we both make good money, and from now on there will be extra coming in each year because of CDN. We ought to live in a nice house. And that's going to come with a price tag.” Her voice broke as she finished. She'd been looking at houses for weeks now, and in her heart she knew this would be the best deal they would get. If Michael made them miss out on this opportunity because he insisted it cost too much, she didn't know if she could live with it.
Michael put his arms around her and stroked her back. “All right, Cécile. I'm all for upward mobility. Let's go look. We'll go see it before we pick up Monet.”
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Michael felt the same way about the house as she did, and before they picked up Monet they made a good-faith offer.
“Mrs. Puckett likes us. I think she'll accept,” Cécile said as they were leaving.
“What makes you say that?”
“She told me that she and her husband, who died a few months ago, had five kids between them when they got married. They had another one together. That one, the youngest, just got married, and Mrs. Puckett is going to move in with her oldest daughter in Mandarin.”
“What'd you do, learn her whole life story?”
“It pays to listen to people. I told her that we, too, have a blended family and that we're having a child together. She seemed very interested. I'm sure it brought back pleasant memories of when she and her husband were young and raising their kids. She's a nice lady, Michael.”
“I'm sure she is, but she might decide to sell to someone white. You know how these things go sometimes.”
“That's silly, Michael. Monet's friend's family lives on the next street, so there are definitely black people in the neighborhood.”
“Yes, but the neighbors might not want any more.”
“I don't think so. Didn't you see that picture on her dresser upstairs?”
“What picture?”
“The one with the black baby. One of her kids must have married black. I don't know how she feels about having a black son- or daughter-in-law, but she obviously loves her grandchild, or else the picture would be shut away in a drawer somewhere.”
“You don't miss anything, do you, Cécile?”
“Like I said, I think we've got it.” Cécile's voice rang with confidence. “She likes us. I know.”