Just a Number (Downtown #1) (24 page)

That’s not to say that we didn’t, on occasion, verbalize our diverse opinions over lunch, which we shared often. We walked to different places around town, but we always had lunch at Pershing Square on Wednesday, provided there was no rain. Which was rare;
it never rains in California.
On that day of the week, we grabbed something to eat and shopped at the farmer’s market. There was another plus with that day’s schedule. We
had
to take our purchases home,
afternoon delight!

Another delightful addition to our schedule, mine really, every Thursday morning, Hazel and I sat down to breakfast with Mr. Simon at our feet, in his cozy zebra bed, while Willow got ready. I absolutely adored Hazel. She reminded me of a British version of my mother. She had the same spunk, wit, and sarcasm. I almost hated to share her with Willow, but they were so close. She thought of her as a surrogate mother, as well. Even though she was communicating more with her own mother, she felt closer to Hazel. She could talk to her about anything, even me.

Besides my job in public relations, I was doing a few sporadic yoga classes in different locations around the downtown area. Mostly, my preferred sunrise sessions, but Willow talked me into teaching some sunset ones, as well. I agreed as long as she would also be my partner for couple’s yoga at home, in classes, and to even help lead a few courses with me. She was more than willing. We also found a nearby studio that had a great smoothie bar and offered different levels of acro-yoga. We had reached the high intermediate level.

I couldn’t help it; I loved my early morning yoga sessions. But, I love the woman waiting in my bed when I returned even more. Leaning down, kissing her soft cheek, I could feel a smile shaping on her beautiful sleepy face. “Interested in a little salutation practice?”

“What did you have in mind?” her voice was sexy and throaty.

“A double gate to start.”

“I think that’s doable.” She lifted the sheet revealing her lovely nakedness. “Lose the clothes, rockstar-yoga-guru, and climb in.” I loved her playfulness… so fun… so naughty.

I really loved my beautiful dark-haired corporate-girl with red lips. Soon enough, I was going to look into those gorgeous, icy-blue eyes of hers and tell her.

Willow

Six months later…

A
beautiful dream was filling my head. Fragrant flowers bloomed in a grassy field. Music was playing: “Lips to breathe her name… only girl I ever loved… deep…” Stretching out, I lifted my arms up, a soft touch skimmed my body. A smile formed on my lips as I was stirred awake. “No. Dash, please. I promise I will go tomorrow. No sunrise yoga today. I’ll continue breathing in and out with my eyes closed. I’m so warm. Cozy. This pose is perfectly aligned…”

A familiar strong, warm, slightly rough hand gently rubbed my arm. “Willow, it’s not morning, you’ve been napping. We have a party to go to… Your friends… My friends… We have to go…”

Not sure if it was some kind of trick, I ignored him and rolled over to grab my phone from my nightstand.
He told the truth.
It was nighttime darkness that was outside the windows of our new larger loft apartment in my… our building. Reluctantly, I left the sanctity of comfortable sheets. Yet, excited for the night’s festivities, I moved a little faster. The party was starting soon, I only had an hour to get ready.

Tomasina and Rex had made all of the bestseller lists with their debut erotic romance e-book. With the success came the desire for a paperback version. Which they had planned to put out in time. Bookstores weren’t so patient and were calling for their book. With self-publishing services so readily available, not to mention Rex, the graphic design wiz, they were able to produce one immediately. Another milestone for them; the paperback version also hit all the charts.
What do you do when that happens? You have a party and… you write more books.
Three more were already underway.

While they were writing together, Rex still had his own books moving up and down the bestseller list. His graphic design company had expanded. He no longer had time to design and maintain websites, along with all the other art job requests. But, his new full-time staff, in a downtown studio space, did. He had employed five students from a few of the local art institutes, two of them were my walking buddies.

Tomasina was traveling with her jewelry line, introducing it to the world and thinking up exotic stories to email to her writing partner. Beside romance novels, they were talking about a whole murder-mystery-jewel-thief series. Their creative minds were always flowing together. I often wondered if any of their other talents were developing together. I asked a few times, but she just waved her hand at me, batting me way.
But,
I never heard a definite “no.”
Hmmm…

Fortunately, not all of my friends were keeping me in the dark about their love lives. Hazel was no longer cleaning for us. She did often cook and shop for us, but as a friendly gesture, inviting us into her own loft. One thing that didn’t change in our routine, every Thursday morning, Hazel and the lovable Mr. Simon showed up for their breakfast date with Dash. New to the scene, Hazel and her handsome beau, Reginald, were making public appearances, including Rex’s and Tomasina’s celebration. Turned out, he is a fellow Brit. I had never heard him speak in all the years I had seen him around. It wasn’t until she introduced him to us. She told me he was no match for
her
Albert—of course, no one ever would be—but she loved Regg, as she called him, for giving her another chance at love and for his affection for Mr. Simon. It warmed my heart to see her with her two men walking down the streets on the weekends.

Another favorite couple of ours, Leo and Cindy, were the first guests we saw as we arrived at the restaurant that had been rented out for the evening. We were all there to support our joint friends in their new book-coupling celebration. Leo and Cindy often played host for us in their backyard gatherings. It had to be nice to be catered to for a change. They were wonderful. Cinnamon, I mean Cindy, Tomasina, and I had become close. We had fun playing dress up with her girls and giving cuddles to their new little boy. All we ever heard from Leo was, “Finally, another penis in my house.” He was over the moon with their latest addition. Dash and I were happy to play with their brood and loved that we could go home to our quiet abode. Our agreement of no children worked for us. We agreed that if we felt the urge for children of our own, we could babysit. That always cured us. Neither of the bachelors, Trey or Rex, was ever quick to volunteer for child-tending duties.

Trey was busy developing some new product and a new relationship with a fellow scientist. They both broke out of the laboratory to attend the party. Bringing along their mixologist brains, they were challenging the bartender to invent something new. They seemed perfect for each other. We were so happy to see him come back to life after his last break up. Running off and marrying someone else while engaged to another?
Terrible!

Speaking of marriage. Suze was still shaking her booty, spinning her turntable at various clubs and at the paperback book launch party with her hot husband, Ian, standing next to her. Yes. They got married. And we found out that her hubby is one of the higher-ups, a board member for Woodland, Oliver and Associates. Apparently, their company was fine with a bit of office-hanky-panky going on. Dash and I, of course, attended their wedding in Santa Barbara along with some of our mutual friends. Tomasina designed their wedding bands. One of Lark’s designers created her gown.

Of course, Lark made quite an entrance to Rex and Tomasina’s party, wearing a shimmering array of jewels, compliments of our jeweler friend, which matched a sapphire blue dress that hugged every curve. You had to oooh and
ahh
at that frock. You could’ve done the same, looking at her date. I, however, knew he was just a longtime friend of hers. They grew up together at the horse racing track. No, Cup, given name Reese, wasn’t the love of her life. “
He”
wasn’t too far away and judging by the look on her face and the overuse of concealer under her beautiful eyes,
he
was wreaking havoc on her heart, again.
Men! They needed to be more like they are in books!

Speaking of books, I had invited my mother to the party and extended the invitation to her book club friends. I didn’t think she would attend, but I thought if her club was invited, maybe it could be a group thing. Since she declined with an excuse, politely, I figured she did not even tell her lady friends. I’m sure if they knew the event was for a romance novel, they would’ve roped and tied her and dragged her along. I understood. She was dealing with adjusting to her new life without her husband.

My father had died suddenly a couple months back; a massive heart attack in the assisted living facility took him from her permanently. My mother was relieved. Hugh was gone. He had left the day he ceased to know she was his wife. She said the man who remained was nothing more than a shell. He would have hated to live like he was; he was a proud man. She explained her feelings to us at his funeral service. Even in death, she continued to protect him. While I lost one family member, I gained more. I was reunited with my mother, my brothers, their wives and children. My extended family increased, as well. Dash, his friends, and even his father attended my father’s memorial in support of me. Tomasina, Lark, Hazel, and Suze were by my side, too.

Sad that the first time I saw my mother in thirteen years, it was under those circumstances. It was nice to see her. We hugged. But as the saying goes,
time heals all wounds;
it didn’t apply in our case. I wasn’t certain it ever could. The damage had been done long before I left home. It wasn’t that she had driven me away with her actions or words. Those belonged solely to my father. Right or wrong in his mind, it hurt me… he hurt me. My mother did not, but she did not protect me, either. However, I have come to terms with both of them. What happened to me made me the person I am, and I like myself. And, I was ready to move on.

I haven’t seen her since his service. Communication with my mother has continued mainly through the computer. It seemed easier for us. We were in a better place in our relationship than we ever had been. Little by little, we added a few phone calls. As of the last one, it was a bit strained. Maybe in the future, things would change.

I did learn a great deal about my mother, Marian Dane, and myself in the last year exchanging emails with her.

From: Willow Dane

To: Marian Dane

Giving Thanks

Today at 8:00 AM

Dear Marian/Mom,

I have realized something from every email I’ve read from you. We weren’t so different. You compared us in a contrasting manner. You were wrong. You are a successful woman. You are a career woman. You were not only educated, but you were a teacher. You are still teaching us. You are strong.

You knew what you wanted in life and accomplished your goals. You wanted to be a wife. You met a man who wanted a stay at home wife. You wanted to be a mother. You started a family.

Running a household, you learned to cook, to clean, to shop, and to care for your children. You are the one that held our family together. You managed us all when we were well and when we were ill. You comforted us in times of need. You taught us right and wrong. You reprimanded us when we stepped out of line.

While you were looking after everything going on in the house, you took care of yourself. You cleaned yourself up. You dressed yourself. You always looked pretty. You made sure you were healthy, so you could work your twenty-four seven, three hundred and sixty-five day-a-year job that allowed for no vacations. No time off. No paycheck. And never once did I hear you complain about anything.

You said you were proud of me. I’d say I was the one who should be proud of you. I learned my profession. I worked hard. I went to work every day. But I could leave mine. I could walk away from it every day. I had paid vacations, and I took them. No one depended on me. I had no real obligations. You will continue to do your job until the day you join Dad. You will continue to bear all the burdens of being a wife and a mother. Marian Dane, you are an amazing woman. Thank you for teaching me how to be a strong, independent woman.

Love you,

Willow, Your Daughter

Besides learning that Marian Dane was, in fact, not so different from other women, I learned that we shared similar interests, though our views about them often differed. I would’ve never understood so much about myself and what motivated me to do certain things in my life without reading her words. Simply, because if not for her emails, I never would’ve thought about them.

I never thought she was strong. From my perspective, she was meek and fragile. I was the strong one. I went to a four year college. I was formally educated. I had a degree stylishly framed hanging in my office as proof for all to see.
What did she have?
Something I didn’t. She had life lessons to guide her. My strength was achieved out of need. Out of spite. Not for myself. To punish.