The Book of Jane (18 page)

Chapter 21

R
aquel, are
you okay? How are you doing? How much longer do you think it's going to last?”

Raquel raises herself onto her arms, takes a deep breath, and winces at me. As soon as she called, I flew out the door and, after a quick trip to the drugstore, caught a cab uptown and raced to her side.

“About seven weeks,” she whines. “Bed rest. Can you believe it?”

“What did the doctor say? Is the baby…?”

“He's going to be fine.” She smiles. “I just went into labor a little early, but as long as I stay put, they say we're both going to be fine.”

“I'm so glad.”

“But seven weeks, Jane! I'm going to lose my mind.”

“I'm sorry,” I say, pulling a chair up next to her bed. “Um…here. I brought stuff that might help pass the time.” I reach into the shopping bag I brought. “Clue. I always thought Colonel Mustard was kind of sexy, didn't you? And Connect Four.” I place the boxes on her bed. “
People
magazine.” I reach down into my shopping bag. “Let's see. What else? Berry Smackers lip gloss.” Raquel bursts out laughing. “And this romance novel,
Love Is Torture
. Well, actually, now that I think about it, that doesn't sound like a very fun book, but they had a whole rack of romances, and I didn't know the difference, so I just picked one. And, um, oh here's the medicine for Olivia. Let's see…”

“You didn't have to do all this, Jane,” she laughs, unscrewing the top of the lip gloss and giving it a sniff.

“Trust me, after a few days, you're going to thank me.”

She nods. “I don't know what I'm going to do, Jane. I can't take care of a toddler like this.”

“You know, when I came in, Haven almost looked like she had it under control,” I shrug. “I mean, obviously, she's not going to be able to do everything you do, but she and Olivia were both munching on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and though your kitchen might never be the same, they looked unharmed.”

“Were they watching TV?”

“
Dora the Explorer
. Olivia was speaking Spanish like a native.”

“That's good. That will keep them busy for a while. But I don't know what I'm going to do when they get bored with that.”

“Do you have to stay in bed every minute?”

“As much as I can. And Jack can't really take any time off, what with his job uncertain anyway,” she sighs.

“Let Haven try,” I say. “She's old enough to be able to at least help. I bet if you show her you trust her, she'll really come through for you.”

“But she's just a baby,” Raquel says.

“Raquel, she's not a baby anymore,” I laugh. “Give her a chance to show you how mature she can be.”

Raquel nods uncertainly.

“And I'm still unemployed,” I volunteer. “I'll be here as much as you need me.”

“Thanks, Jane,” she says quietly, looking down. “That means a lot. Especially…”

“Stop it,” I laugh. “But I have to warn you, I'm a master at Connect Four. You're never going to win.”

“Duly noted.” She smiles at me sadly. “I have some more news, Jane.”

“What's that?”

“The Brownie moms had a meeting this morning. I was there. That meeting was probably what sent me into labor. We took a vote. It was 8–4, in favor of having Margaret take over the troop.”

I feel like I've just been punched.

“I'm so sorry, Jane. If it helps, Abby's mom spoke very passionately about the change she's seen in her daughter and how much Abby talks about you, but it wasn't enough.” She sighs. “I did my best.”

“I know you did, Raquel.” I take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

“At the end of the year, I'm pulling Haven out of the troop,” she says. “Margaret went on about her new vision for the troop, and well, let's just say she mentioned manicure parties and a field trip to Toys ‘R' Us.”

“She didn't.”

“Oh yes,” she laughs. “And no more camping. Her SUV came back mud splattered and she doesn't really see the point.”

“Did anyone mention that SUVs are made to go off road?”

“I didn't dare,” Raquel laughs. “Oh, and get this. They will only be selling low-fat Girl Scout Cookies from now on.”

Hearing this breaks my heart, but I still can't help it. I laugh until tears are streaming down my face, and Raquel laughs too, smiling wider than I've seen her smile in months.

 

I sit
in the café where I used to meet Tyson. I am fuming as Nina walks in the door. It's not like I wasn't expecting her, but as she sits down across from me, I'm still livid. How could she? Never mind ruining my life by planting that story about me in
Star Power
. She is having an affair with Matt Sherwin when his fiancée is pregnant with his baby. This is such a violation of the contract of female friendship that I want to throttle her with my bare hands for poor pregnant Chloe.

I look at her and try to remember who I really am. All I need is for her to agree to issue a retraction and I'll never have to see her again. “Thanks for coming,” I say slowly, careful to let no errant words of hate escape.

She shoots me an ugly look. “Not like I really had a choice, Jane. You practically forced me, and you've got major blackmail material over me right now so I just need to know your price. That's why I'm here.”

I used the information Lee had to call Nina at home and tell her to meet me here today. I've been fretting about this moment all week.

“It's not about a price, Nina. I want you to admit that you planted that story to distract people from Matt's real affair with you. All I need is a retraction from the magazine so I can get my job—”. I falter. “My life back,” I say, finally.

The waitress comes over and I get a cappuccino, but Nina just shakes her head.

“Sure. I admit it. I started hearing rumors that he was cheating on Chloe, but obviously I wasn't about to be blamed for it,” she says, rolling her eyes. “And I didn't really think it would get you fired. So, I guess, sorry about that. Who knew your boss was such a prig?” she says and yawns. That was probably the least authentic apology I've ever received. “But I'm afraid I can't get the retraction. Not only is it not in my power,
Star Power
never issues retractions. Ever. I'm not risking my neck to fight for something that won't happen.”

I take a deep breath and think about what Jesus would say to her. He would say, ‘I forgive you.' But the thought of uttering that makes me sick to my stomach.

What about the affair? This is my chance to stop it, right? And what about her ruining my life? I look at her and smile. If she doesn't agree to the retraction, revenge is mine. I'll call up
Star Power
and get them the real story. Chloe will find out and justice will be served. She'll pay for what she's done.

The waitress brings over my drink, and I take a sip of my cappuccino.

Nina looks at her watch. “Can you speed up this whole angry introspection thing you're doing? I have a job to do.”

I look down. I can't get revenge. That's what I'd like to do, sure, but definitely not the right thing to do. I have the urge to reach across the table and slap her hard and scream,
Do you know what you did to me?
I take another sip of my drink.

Nina sighs dramatically. “Seriously. What is your price? This isn't that hard.” She digs in her handbag and gets out her checkbook. “I'll make the check out to ‘cash' so you can't use it against me.” I stare at her. “I'm not an amateur like you.”

“Nina, I'm a person who has a strong faith in God.”

“Great,” she says, rolling her eyes. “This is all I need today,” she mutters under her breath.

“I'm not judging you. All I'm asking for is the truth.”

“Really?” she says. “Shocking. I found the first nonjudgmental Christian in the world.” She starts to write “CASH” in very big letters on a check.

“I don't want your money.”

“What do you want, then? I already told you, there's nothing I can do.”

I watch her. She is breathing heavily. She looks desperate. She looks…scared. And it hits me. If I go to the press with what I know, her life will be destroyed like mine was. And as much as I would like to let her know how it feels, let her squirm a little just so she gets a taste of what she did to me, I know I can't do that to her. In my worst moments, my faith sustained me. What will sustain her?

I know what I have to do.

What was done for me.

“Nina, I forgive you.”

“Great.” She rolls her eyes. “Can I go now?”

I look at her sadly and nod.

 

I am
taking the flourless chocolate cake out of the oven when my phone rings. I grimace when I see it's Patrice. She's so sweet. So sweet it hurts. I just can't deal with another conversation about whether she should have strawberry or raspberry filling in the wedding cake. Really, I just don't care. No one cares. No one likes wedding cake. No matter what the filling flavor is, the cake is always terrible. I steel myself. She's going to be my sister. I have to talk to her.

“Hi Patrice,” I say with as much enthusiasm as I can muster. “How's it going?”

“Jane!” she cries, as if delighted to find herself talking to me. “How are you? How's New York? How's your dog? What are you doing? Did I tell you, Mom and I—I mean my mom Mom, not your mom Mom—we went shopping again on Saturday and I think we finally found the perfect dress. It's from Carolina Herrera, and it has the most gorgeous tulle underskirt you ever saw, and…”

I place the phone down on the counter. She'll be going for a while. I check on my cake. It seems to be fine. And the pasta is all ready to go and the salad will be finished as soon as I toss in some pine nuts. I lean toward the phone and hear Patrice say, “It's diamond white, but eggshell really looks better with my skin tone, so I don't know if I…” I let her go on. I check on Charlie, who is asleep on my bed, and close the door so he's not tempted by the smell of food. I walk into the living room to light the fire. I turn the gas on and step back and watch the flames lick at the ceramic logs. I look around my living room and smile. I just need to change, and I'll be all set. I walk back into the kitchen and grab the phone. “Jane? Are you there? Jane?” Patrice is asking.

“I'm here,” I say. “Sorry, I—I had just taken a sip of water, and, um…So, what's up, Patrice?”

“Well,” she giggles. “The reason I'm calling is that I thought and thought and I just couldn't decide on wedding colors. They're just all too pretty. So I decided to go with a ‘Rainbow of Roses' theme for the wedding. We're going to have flowers of every color, and we'll decorate colorfully, and it will just be so beautiful,” she says, sighing.

“Who are you talking to, Lovepat?” someone says on her end in a voice that sounds suspiciously like my brother's.

“What did he just say?” I ask.

“It's your sister,” she says away from the phone. I hear him grunt. “Sorry, Jane. I'm back. Jimmy calls me Lovepat,” she says to me. “You know, like my names, but backward.” I make vomiting noises in my head. “So anyway, I picked out a dress for all the bridesmaids to wear, and it comes in all these colors, and I thought I would let the girls all pick out whatever color they want,” she says, giggling. “So what color do you like to wear?”

“Black,” I say absently, lighting a candle on the mantel.

“Oh, you,” she laughs. I pause. It really is what I wear most. It's New York. Everyone wears black. “Black at a wedding,” she says and laughs. I sigh. I decide to play it off as a joke.

“Yeah. Just kidding. Ha ha ha. Bet they don't make it in black. How about blue?” I say. Blue sounds safe.

“Great. There's turquoise, aqua, sky, periwinkle, royal, pool, sapphire, ocean, and navy. Do you have a preference?”

“Wow. So many choices. Okay. What colors did the other girls choose?” I have it on good authority that I am one of ten bridesmaids so we should be quite the bouquet up there.

“I'd really like to see some of the girls in pink, lavender, and seafoam,” she says.

None of those are blue. So much for my preference. “I guess I could—”

“And yellow. Someone's got to wear yellow.”

Bye-bye blue. “Yellow sounds fine,” I say.

“Oh Jane,” Patrice laughs. “You always were such a kidder. You know yellow won't look good with your skin tone.”

My mouth falls open in shock. Did I know that? I drop the phone by my side for a moment and take a deep breath. I hold it back to my ear. “Oh, well, how about—”

I hear a knock at my door.

“You know, Patrice, there's somebody at my door, so I have to go now,” I say quickly. “We'll figure this out later, okay?” I try to sound cheerful.

“Of course,” she says, genuinely disappointed. “I'm so sorry. I didn't even ask if you had a minute to talk.”

“No problem,” I say.

“I'll just put you down for the seafoam for now.”

I frown from ear to ear. “Talk to you soon, Patrice,” I say and close the phone. I toss it on the counter and yank the door open. “Thank God,” I say to Coates, who is standing in my doorway holding a bouquet of tulips. Oh no. I never had the chance to change out of my grungy clothes. Oh well. Didn't I read somewhere that men like women who feel comfortable being casual?

“Most women aren't as direct as that, but I do suppose some of them thank their maker when they see me.”

“I just had an entire conversation about which shade of pastel goes with my skin tone,” I say, grabbing the flowers from his hands. He smiles at me, and I freeze. I had forgotten how his eyes crinkle when he smiles.