“That’s good, because this opportunity would require you to show up at work.”
I was getting impatient. I had places to go, people to see. Okay, actually my afternoon was completely wide open and I planned to veg and watch soap operas. But still!
“Listen, it’s been real, but if you don’t tell me who you are and what you want, I’ve gotta go.”
“All right then,” the voice said. “I’m Sara, an executive producer from Newsline. We know you were behind the Mexican drug tunnel story and we’re wondering if you’d consider coming to work for us.”
*
“Omigod, omigod! Jodi, you have to meet me for drinks. Right now!” I screamed into my cell phone. “This very second!”
“Earth to Maddy, you may be unemployed and carefree, but I’m still at work, remember?” Jodi reminded me over the cellular airwaves. “I’ve got to finish writing ‘Celebrity C-sections.’”
“Celebrity C-sections?” I stifled a giggle.
“Yeah, you know. ‘Madonna had one. Posh Spice, too. Now you, too, can get your stomach sliced open instead of being forced to give birth the old-fashioned way.’ I have to get it finished for my edit tomorrow. We could meet up after work….”
Agh. That was totally unacceptable. I couldn’t possibly wait ‘til the end of the day to start celebrating my good news.
“Can’t you tell them you’re feeling sick?” I begged. “I hear there’s a nasty flu going around. Surely you can catch it within the next five minutes. For your best friend in the whole wide world?”
“Well …” I could hear the weakness in her voice and pounced.
“I’ll buy the margaritas.”
“Fine. One hour. At the border. But I’m bringing my logs and you’re helping me write the script at the bar.”
Woo-hoo! I knew I could count on Jodi to embrace her inner slacker! “See you there.” I hit “end” and pulled back onto the road. Before I headed down to Mexico, I had some shopping to do.
*
The sun beat down on us as we sat at a little outside table in our favorite Tijuana square. The rotund, mustached waiter had delivered our mango margaritas moments ago, and I held mine up in a toast.
“To new beginnings,” I said.
Jodi clinked her glass against mine. “Aren’t you sad at all about losing your job at News Nine?” she asked after taking a sip. “You seem rather jubilant, all things considered.”
I shrugged. “A little, I guess. I mean, it was a fun place to work. I spent five years of my life there. And obviously the circumstances of my departure were a bit on the sketchy side….”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Jodi said. “I’m really proud of you. What you did was amazing. Brave. Diane Dickson would have been proud.”
I grinned. “She is proud.”
“Huh?”
I laughed at Jodi’s confused look. I couldn’t blame her. She probably thought I’d lost my mind. It was too much fun not to leave her hanging for a few more minutes.
“I got you something,” I reached under the table and pulled my new purchase out of its bag.
Jodi’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God,” she cried, reaching over the table for the Prada purse I held up. “I’ve never seen this style as a counterfeit.” She turned the purse around, studying the seams, then opened it up to examine the lining. I had to laugh. She was such a fake purse professional. She looked up at me. “I can’t find one thing wrong with this,” she exclaimed. “It’s like you found the perfect knockoff. I thought they were an urban myth. Where did you get it?”
“Nordstrom’s.”
Her eyes widened. “They sell counterfeit purses in Nordstrom’s now?”
“No.” I shook my head. “They sell genuines.”
“But then …” Jodi stared at the purse, up at me and then down at the purse again. “You don’t mean this is …”
“Yup.”
“Oh, my God!” she screeched. “This is real?” She wiped her hands on her pants. “I hope I didn’t get margarita stickiness on it.” She cradled the purse carefully, as if it were a heavenly object.
“Merry Christmas. Happy Birthday. Whatever’s closer.”
“But you can’t afford—I mean, you’re unemployed. I couldn’t possibly accept …”
“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” I asked casually. “I got a new job.”
“You did? That’s so great! Where is it? Is it in TV? When do you start?”
I held up my hands, laughing at her enthusiasm. “One question at a time. Yes, it’s in TV. I start in two weeks. It’s in Los Angeles.” I paused for a moment to enjoy her shocked face. “You’re looking at the newest assistant producer at Newsline’s LA bureau.”
“No freaking way.” Jodi stared at me in joyous disbelief. She knew more than anyone how long I’d dreamed of this opportunity. “But … how?”
I shrugged. “They found out I was the brains behind the drug tunnel story. They knew all about me sneaking it on the air and everything. Said they admired my tenacity for the truth.”
“Who told them?”
“That’s actually the best part!” I exclaimed. “Terrance.”
“Terrance?” Jodi stared at me in disbelief. “As in narcissistic ninny Terrance Toller?”
“Yup. Remember how he appeared on Newsline last week? Well, they offered him a job. And he said he would only take it if they hired me as his producer.”
“I would have never in a million years have thought Terrance would stick up for you.”
“You know, he’s actually a good guy underneath that shallow exterior he portrays,” I informed her. “With insecurities and fears just like the rest of us. Fighting to survive in the cruel world of TV news.”
“So interesting,” Jodi mused. “But enough about Terrance. How about you! A job at Newsline—your ultimate dream come true.”
“I know, right? A new job, a really nice salary, moving expenses and everything. And I wanted to give you the purse because without you calling me on the carpet when I was going to sell out for that lousy News Nine executive producer job, I’d probably be stuck in ‘Products That Kill’ hell for the rest of my life.”
“Well, I accept it then.” Jodi said, pulling the purse to her lips and kissing it. “Thank you. And congrats. Of course, I’ll miss you tons.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m going to LA. Not Mars. I’m two and a half hours away.”
“Four with traffic.”
“Still, we’ll see each other all time. Every weekend.”
“I know.” Jodi rose from her chair and walked around the table to give me a huge hug. “Congratulations, sweetie. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, doll,” I said returning the hug.
After a moment of best friend camaraderie, Jodi pulled away.
“While we’re here, do you want to go check out the fake purses?” She frowned at the amused look I shot her. “You know, just to compare them to the real thing,” she rationalized, tucking her new acquisition under her arms.
I started to giggle. No matter how things changed in life, there were some things you could always count on. “Okay, fine,” I said. “Besides, I want to thank Miguel. After all, if it weren’t for him, none of this would have happened.”
“Totally. And he should be happy, too. After all, thanks to you, his brother’s killers are in jail.” Jodi’s eyes took on a mischievous gleam. “He should give you a friends-and-family discount from now on.”
“Oh yeah,” I agreed as we headed toward the shop. “And then I can finally get that Kate Spade purse with the sewn-on label.”
Hi, Sis,
How’s it hanging? This rehab place blows. Totally boring. If I have to do one more arts and crafts project I’m going to kick someone’s ass, big time. I mean, talk about incentive to get off drugs—just making sure I never have to come back to this hellhole would be a good enough reason for me. But hey, at least I’m getting well. I’ve even stopped puking three times a day.
So, they tell me during ses
sions that the ninth step to recovery is to say you’re sorry to all those people you hurt with your addiction. Well, I’m actually only on step two, but you know me––I hate to go in order. So here you are, the official Lulu/Maddy apology Top 10:
1. I’m sorry I stole from you.
2. I’m sorry I trashed your apartment.
3. I’m sorry I made you worry about me.
4. I’m sorry I let Drummer use your toothbrush to clean his hash pipe out. (Though he did rinse it out afterward, I swear!)
5. I’m sorry I borrowed your DKNY top and lost it and then told you that someone broke into your apartment and stole it.
6. I’m sorry I broke that window to make “The Great DKNY Robbery” more believable to the cops.
7. I’m sorry about that time I told your high school boyfriend that you still had a Menudo poster hanging on your bedroom wall. (Though for the record I never thought he’d dump you over that and tell the whole school!)
8. I’m sorry for the time I drew on your face with permanent marker during your pre–senior prom nap. (But honestly, it really did look like a cool henna tattoo.)
9. Oh and remember that time mom accused you of being preggo? Well, that pregnancy test actually belonged to my friend Dora, but she didn’t want her mother to kill her (they’re very Catholic!) so we told Mom it was from you. Since you were so much older, we really didn’t think Mom would freak as much as she did!
10. Hmm, can’t think of a tenth thing, but I’m sure I’ll think of more in the next few weeks. After all, there’s not much else to do here.
Your loving sister, Lu
Chapter Twenty-one
Two weeks later Lulu was released from rehab and Dad threw a party to celebrate her recovery and my new job. Cindi decorated the yard with brightly colored balloons and streamers and Dad fired up the grill. Lulu and her friends hung out by the back wall, chattering about college applications and boys (not necessarily in that order) while Jodi and I hung out on the swings, sipping homemade margaritas. Cindi waddle over (she was getting quite big) with a heaping tray of cookies and coerced us to eat more than our share. She really was growing on me, now that I’d taken the time to get to know her a little better. She was smart and funny and sweet; it was no wonder my dad was crazy about her. Sure, it was still weird to consider someone so much younger than me as my stepmom, but they so obviously adored each other, it was hard to object.
“Hey, where’s the party?” The back door swung open and, to my surprise, Mom stepped through. She was wearing a bright yellow sundress and looked tanned and healthy. Lulu bounced off the wall and ran to hug her. I waited until they were done, then gave her a squeeze myself. Dad greeted her cheerfully and even Cindi shook her hand hello. I could tell Mom still wasn’t quite sure about the whole Cindi situation, but she was doing her best to remain pleasant for the family’s sake.
We ate at the picnic table, chattering throughout the meal about the future. I told everyone about my new job and my new apartment in LA. Lulu chattered about rehab and all the celebrities she’d met there. And, under Mom’s own urging, Cindi shyly gave us an update on the baby. It was a girl and they were going to call her Sarah, after Cindi’s grandmother.
It was weird, for sure. But it was also kind of nice. After dinner Mom took me aside, leading me into the house. We sat down on the sofa.
“So you’re okay with all of this?” I asked. “I mean, all of us hanging out together?”
“It’s not my favorite thing in the world to see your dad with someone else,” Mom admitted. “But he seems really happy. And I’m glad about that. The two of us were miserable for so long.”
“What about you, though? Are you happy?”
“You know what, Maddy? I am. I really am.” She smiled. “In the last month I’ve had more adventures than I’ve had in a lifetime. I’ve traveled the world. Tried new things. Met new people. And that never would have happened if your dad didn’t leave.” She shook her head. “Believe me, I’m still angry as hell over what he did. But at the same time, in a strange way, I’m grateful. My life is good now. I’m stronger and more self-reliant and I’m starting to live for me for the first time ever. And that never would have happened if I stayed in my loveless marriage.”
“I’m glad you’re having fun, Mom,” I said, giving her a hug.
“But enough about me,” she said. “What about you? You’ve gotten the job you always wanted, but for some reason you don’t seem happy.”
She always had been perceptive. “You’re right,” I admitted. “Why is that?”
“Well, right around the time you left, this new guy came to work at News Nine …” I started from the beginning and told her the whole sordid tale, leaving out, of course, the one-night stand and accidental Ecstasy in the desert parts. There were some things you didn’t ever share with your mother, even if she was suddenly all liberated and stuff.
I ended with Jen’s pregnancy. “He says it won’t change things between us, but I don’t see how that could be the case.”
“That’s a tough one,” my mother mused. “Does he want to be part of the child’s life?”
“Yes. Unfortunately.”
“Not unfortunately,” Mom scolded. “Maddy, that’s a good sign. He lives up to his responsibilities. Would you rather he be the type that runs away? A deadbeat dad?”
“I guess not.”
“You know, Maddy. The world is changing. Families are being redefined. Look at us tonight, for goodness sake. And I believe if you find someone you truly love, you shouldn’t let a little conflict get in the way.”
“But this isn’t like he has some mole on his left shoulder. It’s eighteen years of responsibility.”
“I’m not saying it will be easy. But worthwhile things hardly ever are,” she said gently. “And oftentimes true love requires sacrifice. Do you really love him?”
“Oh yes,” I said, my composure crumbling and tears bursting from my eyes. I’d been so strong for so long. Built up the wall and tried to tell myself I didn’t care. But life without Jamie had a big empty hole in it, and it was slowly sucking the joy away. “I love him so much.”
“And do you believe he loves you?”
I thought about it for a moment then nodded. No matter what happened physically between him and Jen on that last night they were together, I was sure of his feelings for me. “Yes.”
My mom shrugged. “Then to me it seems pretty obvious what you should do.”
And suddenly it seemed pretty obvious to me, too. “I’ve got to go, Mom,” I said, rising to my feet. “I’ll talk to you later.”
She smiled. “Good luck, sweetie. Good luck!”
*
I broke every speed limit in San Diego driving to Jamie’s apartment. When I got there, I couldn’t find a parking spot and ended up double parking. I ran to the door and rang the bell, praying he’d be there. Praying he wasn’t too mad at my ongoing stupidity and would listen to what I had to say.
“Maddy?”
The door opened and suddenly Jamie stood before me, dressed in low-slung dark blue jeans and tight white t-shirt. His beautiful green eyes looked hollow, circled in dark black, and it appeared he hadn’t shaven in days. It gave him a rough, almost dangerous and unbearable sexy look that warmed something low in my belly.
“Jamie,” I said. Now that I was here, I didn’t know what to say.
“You haven’t returned my calls,” he said. The comment was matter of fact. Not judgmental. But I felt more than a squirm of guilt anyway.
“I’ve been … busy.” How lame did that sound? How untrue. But what was I supposed to say?
“I’ve heard. Thank God your sister’s okay.” He shifted from foot to foot. “And I guess congratulations are in order, huh? On your new job.”
“Thanks,” I said, wondering who’d told him. Wondering what he thought about it. “How’s the baby?” I asked.
He winced a little. “Jen and I went to the doctor today. They claim everything’s in order.”
“That’s … good,” I managed to say, feeling sick to my stomach all over again. As much as I loved him, it was still going to take some time to get used to the idea of him becoming, a dad. Just like with my own father’s new baby.
“Yeah,” he said simply, staring down at me without elaborating. I could see a million questions swirling behind his eyes, but knew he was afraid to push me. He raked a hand through his hair, and I remembered running my own fingers through those soft locks, breathing in the soapy scent of shampoo and aftershave.
“I can’t take this anymore, Maddy,” he said at last, his voice worn and hoarse. “I haven’t slept in days. I’ve barely eaten. I feel sick all of the time. I’ve tried to stay away, give you space, but I’m at my wits’ end.”
I stared down at the ground. “I know. I’ve felt similar.”
“What can I do to make you see I love you?” he asked, his tone more than a little frustrated. “I know this situation is awkward, but it doesn’t have to be over between us. Why can’t you see that? What we had was so special. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. And damn it, I’m not going to let you throw it all away.”
“But what about Jen and the baby?” I asked, needing to be clear. “They’ll need you.”
“Yes. You’re right.” He nodded. “My baby will need a father. And Jen will likely need some financial and emotional support. I won’t neglect my responsibility. I will love my child and be there for him or her no matter what. But that doesn’t change anything between Jen and me. We haven’t gotten back together.”
“But you could,” I protested. “Once the baby is born, you could.” And that was the real reason, I suddenly realized, that I was resisting so much. I couldn’t bear the idea that I could lose him at a moment’s notice. That I could hand him my heart, only to have it crushed a few months down the road.