Cheating at Solitaire (15 page)

"Okay," he said. "Let's watch some decorating."

"Shush up, you two," Nina snapped as she clicked through the channels at breakneck speed, until snappy theme-show music began flooding into the room.

On the screen, Felicia Wallace, the woman who was second in Nina's class at the Wellington Design Academy, was about to begin a major project on a Manhattan brownstone. The designer who had graduated
first
in the class was waiting to be divorced from Jason—again. Julia had to wonder why Nina put herself through the agony of watching a former rival excel on national TV.

"What is this?" Lance asked.

"I'll tell you what
this
is.
This
is the bane of my existence." Nina quickly climbed on her soapbox.

"Shows like
Decorating

Derby
are convincing the American public that with a gallon of primer and a dozen cardboard toilet-paper rolls, anyone can decorate." She snorted. "Good decorating is like anything else—

you get what you pay for."

Caroline came in from the kitchen, a bowl of popcorn in each hand, just in time to see Felicia Wallace introduce the show's official carpenter, Mason Kent. When she-glanced at the television, she immediately asked, "Who is
that"

"That
is the worst thing about these shows," Nina declared. "They take a hot guy, strap on a tool belt, and use him to lure thousands of female viewers. This show isn't about design; it's about hot men with power tools. Look at those arms. Look at the way that T-shirt clings to his rippling chest. If you want to do a reality show about decorating, then
at the very least,
your carpenter ought to have jeans that hang below the equator."

Julia picked up on something she hadn't heard from Nina for a very long time. "You
like
him!"

she exclaimed. "You've got a
crush
on Mason the hot carpenter guy!"

"I do not." Nina dismissed the suggestion, but a hint of red was appearing on her olive-skinned cheeks.

"I'm a married woman," she insisted. "Well, kind of. I'm a
little bit
married."

Lance glanced down at her hand. "You're not wearing a ring."

"Nina, this is great!" Julia cried. "You have a non-Jason crush. It's a good thing."

"I may be many things," Nina said, "but in love with Felicia's hammer-jockey is not one of them."

"I auditioned to be on one of these shows once," Lance said, grabbing a fistful of popcorn.

"Really?" Julia said, stealing a kernel for herself.

"Yeah," he said. "I used to do a lot of that kind of stuff for my mom, building sets and all. I'm pretty good with my hands."

Nina's elbow was suddenly in Julia's gut. Lance, thankfully, didn't notice.

"It would have been a good gig for me, but I didn't get it. Nina's right, though," he said, filling his mouth with popcorn. "Those guys are actors."

Caroline was glued to the set. "He really knows how to use that sander," she said.

"Caroline!" Julia said, a little surprised at her sister.

"I can't help it." Caroline shrugged. "Every time I ask Steve to do something around the house, he lectures me about comparative advantage and reminds me what an hour of his time bills for at the firm. Do you know how many times I've seen Steve pick up a nail gun, or anything else, for that matter?"

"Do we really want to see Steve with a nail gun?" Nina asked.

"You have a brand-new house, Caroline," Julia said. "You don't need to be married to Mr. Fix-it."

"Well, I wouldn't mind being married to Mr. Knows-how-to-unload-the-dishwasher," Caroline said under her breath.

When Felicia began instructing homeowners on how to wallpaper their den with old newspapers, Nina shifted and dramatically covered her eyes. "Oh, it's too painful. I can't watch anymore. I have to go. Caroline, are you ready?"

"Why? Can't we stay a little longer?"

Julia's jaw dropped. She'd never seen her sister do anything hut rush toward her children.

Caroline had already spent the better part of a day away from them. She couldn't imagine what force of nature could have brought about such change. Then, she remembered. "So, how's the memoir coming along?"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Did you know that Ro-Ro had seven different dogs when she was growing up? I do. I even know their names. I know how big they were. I know how she disposed of their bodies when they died."

"I suppose that came in handy," Nina said. "You know, for later."

"Why does this always happen to me?" Caroline cried in disbelief.

"You're a nice person. It comes with the territory," Nina said. "Or so I hear."

Julia asked, "So where is Ro-Ro now?"

"She wants the memoir to include excerpts from her fans. As we speak, she has called an emergency meeting of the Georgias. They're going to put together some notes and get back to me."

"I am so sorry, Caroline," Julia said, meaning it. "Being forced to work with Ro-Ro
and
the Georgias. No one deserves that."

"At least she gave me last night off. Although, technically, I was supposed to use that as an opportunity to scout locations for a series of tasteful black-and-white photos she wants throughout the book. Because,
of course,
I don't have anything else to do." She looked at her sister. "We finally got her settled back at her place, and for once, Steve agreed to stay with the kids. I know they're probably burning the house down even as we speak, but I just can't go back, not yet. She might call there, but she'd never call here."

"Why won't she call here?" Nina asked.

Julia and Caroline said in unison, "It's a long-distance cal ."

"Ah," Nina said, understanding. "The cheapness pays off."

Caroline added, "Hallelujah."

Just then, the phone rang, and Caroline and Julia looked at each other as if they'd just jinxed themselves and Ro-Ro had invested in nationwide long distance or, Heaven forbid, a cell phone.

But Julia checked the caller ID this time, and then picked up. "Hello, mother," she said.

"Julia, it's your mother," Madelyn said, disregarding Julia's greeting. "Your father and I were driving past your house just now, and . . . well. . . you should turn on Channel Two."

Despite Nina's disdain for
Decorating Derby,
she still cried "Hey" when Julia took the remote control and changed the channel to the Tulsa NBC affiliate. Her cries were silenced, however, by the sight of Richard Stone's smirk.

"Who's that?" Caroline asked.

"My agent," Lance said as his heart fell to the pit of his stomach.

All around the little man, spotlights shone through the early-evening air. Julia leaned closer to the screen, squinting, trying to imagine why the scene looked so familiar. "That's my mailbox!"

she yelled. "He's here! He's by the front gate!"

Richard Stone was standing in the glare of spotlights, shielded only by a massive bank of microphones. He squinted into the bright light, then slipped on a pair of reading glasses and cleared his throat. "Ladies and gentlemen," he said as he pulled a piece of paper from the breast pocket of his jacket. "Mr. Collins and Ms. James have prepared a brief statement they would like me to read. I ask that you please hold your questions." He cleared his throat again and began. "Ladies and gentlemen of the press, we ask your understanding and patience as we embark on this, the most important project of our lives. True love, like true art, takes time to perfect and ripen."

"As if I would ever write something with mixed metaphors," Julia scoffed.

Caroline shushed her, and Richard read on.

"We are using this time to let our relationship grow and blossom into the beautiful thing that it will become. We ask your understanding and respect for our privacy during this, a most romantic time." Richard Stone folded the piece of paper and put it away. "I will now be taking questions."

"What are Lance and Julia's future plans?" one reporter yelled.

A smile spread across Richard's face. "They're going to stay here for the time being. Lance has some really sweet offers though, so I expect he'll be getting back to work soon."

"Will Julia go with him?" the reporter followed up.

"Oh." Richard smirked. "I can't imagine keeping the two of them apart."

"He's dead!" Julia yelled and started, full-steam, toward the front door, but Lance grabbed her around the waist and, with the force of her momentum, swung her neatly around with her feet in the air.

"Cool it," he said near her ear, his arms still locked around her.

"Is it true Lance has signed a three-picture deal with Miramax?" a reporter asked.

"I'm afraid I can't comment on that."

"Is it true that Julia's writing a book on wedding planning?"

"Actually," Richard said, "I think Julia's going to be taking some time to support Lance and his career."

Luckily, Lance still had a solid grip on Julia, because she bolted for the door again, and he had to struggle to hold her back. On the television, the questions and the flashes were as bright and loud as ever, but Richard Stone must have decided to quit while he was ahead. "Okay, folks, okay," he said, waving and yelling over the barrage of questions that seemed to be coming from all directions. "That's all I can really say right now. All you need to know is that they're happy, and they're in love, and they're very excited about the baby."

Julia passed out cold.

WAY #77: Take good care of yourself.

If you live alone, then there's no guarantee that someone wil be there to take care of you
when you're under the weather, So, by al means, take good care of yourself.

—from 707
Ways to Cheat at Solitaire

Julia opened her eyes and stared overhead, slowly focusing on the water stains and cobwebs that she'd never noticed in the thousands of times she'd walked to her bedroom on the second floor. Other things came into focus, too: a twin mattress; the railing of the stairs; and six legs and six feet, four of which were standing on tiptoes.

"Oh, I wish I'd brought my telescope," Caroline said as she looked through the small, circular window that offered the, best view of the county road.

"Did you say 'telescope'?" Lance asked.

"It was Steve's when he was a kid. I keep it in the upstairs playroom so I can keep an eye on Crazy Myrtle."

"Caroline." Julia groaned as she pushed herself upright and fought against her swirling head.

"Please tell me you don't really do that!"

Caroline turned to study her recently unconscious sister. "Well,
someone
has to."

"How you doing, sleepyhead?" Lance crouched beside her and asked. Julia felt her face burn red with humiliation. Had she actually fainted? Had Lance carried her up the stairs?
Does he
know how much I weigh?

"Do you need anything?" he asked.

An untraceable passport and enough cash to get me to Paraguay?

"No," she muttered.

He turned his attention back to the window, and Julia tried to make the most of the situation.

It's good to know your limits,
she thought, scrolling through a list of all she'd learned since meeting Lance:
Paparazzi attacks equal prison. Fictional babies equal fainting. Now, i f I only
knew what it would take for me to develop selective amnesia, I'd be set.

"I've never seen so many lights in my life!" Nina said as she fought with Caroline for position at the window. "I bet every TV crew in the state is camped out there."

Something snapped inside of Julia. Everything came into sharp, clear focus. She jumped up and started down the stairs but stopped suddenly and looked around the landing where they'd been working all afternoon. "Nina, where'd you put that hammer?"

"Julia," Lance soothed as if she were a wild animal. His movements were slow and steady as he slid onto the stair beneath her.

"I am gonna kill that man, Lance!" She looked around once more, then yelled, "Screw the hammer!" and started to push past him.

Unfortunately, it's hard to walk toward vengeance when both your feet are off the floor and the room is suddenly upside down. Julia recognized Lance's terrific rear end staring her in the face.

She clawed at his back and kicked, but he didn't let her off his shoulder. He had one arm wrapped around the bend in her knees and the other arm perched way too comfortably on her rear end.

"Put me down this instant!"

"Come on, Lance," Julia heard Nina say through the curtain of hair that had fallen over her face.

"You don't want to hurt the
baby."

Julia put her hands on Lance's butt and pushed herself upright enough to face her sister and best friend.

"Nina, this is
so
not funny! People who used to respect me are currently under the impression that I am
shacked
up! And
knocked
up and . . .
many kinds of up!"
Blood rushed to her head. "I don't feel so good," she said, and Lance dropped her onto the mattress.

"Stay there," he ordered, and for once, Julia did exactly as she was told.

"Come on, Julia," Caroline said. "No one is going to believe that about you."

Just then the phone rang. Nina picked it up and looked at the caller ID. "It's Ro-Ro," she said, handing the receiver to Julia, who turned the ringer off. She used the phone to point at her sister.

"Ro-Ro just made a long-distance call, Caroline. Do you still think it's so unbelievable?"

Lance's legs appeared in Julia's peripheral vision. He leaned down and held out a glass of water for her to take. "Thanks," she said, grateful for something to do with her hands. She drank the whole glass before looking back up at him. "And not just for the water," she said sheepishly.

"Oh . . . well." Lance eased down beside her. She felt his weight and sensed his guilt. "Do I have a great agent or what?"