The Breakup Mix (32 page)

“Buy fabulous shoes and eat ice cream for supper?”

She slouched. “No. You need to find another guy. One down here. A hot Floridian would take your mind off he-who-shan’t-be-named.”

My stomach dropped, but I played along. “Should I stand next to a construction site and fake a broken ankle?”

“Be serious, will ya? Think about it. You meet a new guy; he sweeps you off your feet, and whammo. You’ll be saying ‘Tony who’ in no time.”

Like that would ever happen. “So I’m going to find someone else to play with and potentially break his heart to get over
my
broken heart? Need I remind you I’m only going to be here for few more months then we’re going back to Missouri?” Sure. Fall for a guy that lives far away. No, that doesn’t sound familiar at all.

“You don’t have to go back to Missouri,” Dani said.

Alissa gaped at her. “Um, yes she does. If she stays, I stay. And if I stay, you stay. So . . . oh! I got it. What about online dating?”

“What? Ew, gross! No way.”

Dani leaned across the table. “Chance, listen to me. You are stunningly beautiful, smart, and sharp as a tack. It won’t take long for you to find someone if you put yourself out there. But I’m begging you to forget she ever mentioned online dating.”

I laughed. “Already forgotten. How the hell did we make this turn back to me? I thought we were picking out baby names.” The waiter showed with the wine. “Oh thank god. Pour it up, bartender.”

Alissa said, “I’ll stick with water, but thank you.”

He grinned at her. “No celebrating for you?”

She offered a sly smile. “Not today.”

He stared a little longer than normal and nearly overfilled my glass. I said, “I hate to interrupt, but that whole bottle won’t fit in my glass.”

He pulled back the bottle and moved to Dani’s side with a blush creeping up his neck. After he filled Dani’s glass to an appropriate height, he took our order and scurried to the kitchen to retrieve our salads and his ego.

I shook my head. “Alissa, he could be your boy-toy while you’re in Florida.”

She laughed. “Yeah, because single guys are super hot to bang a pregnant lady.”

I smirked. “You never know. At least he knows he can’t knock you up.”

She turned to Dani. “What about you? Think you’ll start dating anytime soon?”

She waved us off while sipping her wine. “I have no interest in going back down that road. Besides, I’m about to meet the perfect male. And if
he
pees on the floor, I can spank his ass.”

I glanced at Alissa to see her reaction, but she took it in stride. Maybe she really is doing okay with all this. I looked at Dani. “I get where you’re coming from. There’s a lot of appeal to being single.”

Dani nodded. “When Barry left, I felt like I was staring at this vacant black hole of a future. Same day, day after day, only to wake up the next morning and realize it was going to be the same day all over again.” Her eyes misted. “But when Alissa . . . now it feels like that last perfect piece has completed my puzzle.”

Alissa smiled at Dani and asked, “You’re not nervous at all?”

Dani chuckled. “Nervous? I’m scared to death! What if I can’t make him stop crying? What if I get sick? What if
he
gets sick? This is all so foreign to me, but I know mothers do it every day, and I want this so badly.”

I said, “And, we’ll all be around to help you, too. It’s not like you’re going to be alone in this. Katie and Michelle have years of experience and itchy palms for babies.”

Alissa said, “And, I’ll still be in the picture. Not a leading character. More like a best supporting actress.” She grinned. “It will be fun to buy boy stuff for a change.”

An awkward silence drifted across the table. Dani and I sipped our wine while Alissa stared longingly at my glass. I threw off wine etiquette, drank a little faster, then refilled the glass.

Alissa grinned. “Someone’s on a mission.”

“What? It’s good wine.”

Alissa mumbled, “Mmhmm. Okay, I’ll break the ice. Dani, we probably need to talk about the boundaries when the baby is born.”

I peered over the rim of my glass and took another drink. I alternated watching the two mothers’ faces and waited to see how this showdown would go. Dani glanced at Alissa and cleared her throat. “I don’t know what boundaries are appropriate, Lis. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this, probably more than you’d give me credit for.” She smiled. “I’ve wondered if joint custody would be better than a total adoption.” She held her breath and waited for Alissa’s reaction. I held my breath, too.

Alissa frowned. “No, I don’t think that’s an option, and here’s why. I think a child needs a mother—one mother. I can be the cool aunt who swoops in and makes you look like the overbearing jackass.”

Dani’s relief poured out in her giggle. “Would you like to hear something that plagues me?”

Alissa sat back. “What?”

“What if he looks just like you? There’ll be no denying anything if that happens.”

Alissa’s face blanched. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

I fanned my face and wiped my lip. “Damn, wine always makes me so hot.” I refilled my wine glass. “Look. Alissa, no offense, but I think your ego is inflated a little bit. You may be one of the wealthiest women in Columbia, but no one really knows that. The only people who may put two and two together already know your big secret. And besides, there’s no shame in admitting that you surrogated Dani’s baby if people start asking questions. No one has to know that you got knocked up by Señor Fucknut.”

Dani chuckled. “You’re so eloquent when you’re drunk.”

I gasped and spat, “I am not drunk. It’s midday. I don’t get drunk during daylight hours.”

Alissa pointed at the bottle of wine. “You’ve downed half that bottle in less than ten minutes. You might rethink your last statement.”

I looked for the waiter. “I just need to eat. What the hell takes so long to get fucking salads on a plate?”

Alissa shushed me. “Chance, it’s the lunch rush. We’re not in a hurry, but if you keep that pace, you’ll be passed out and miss the sunset.”

I scowled at her. “I’ll be fine after lunch.” I reached for my water. “I’m not drinking this because you suggested I slow down. I’m thirsty.”

Alissa laughed. “Okay, Chance. It’s your reality. Live it how you like.” She winked at Dani. “Ten bucks says she’s passed out by seven.”

“You’re on.”

After lunch and another bottle of wine at the house, I was toast by suppertime. I participated in the walk of shame to my room and threw myself on the bed to end my misery. I made a mental note to either quit drinking altogether or start drinking more to build up a tolerance—at that moment, I was voting for never drinking again. Damn that wine.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The Song Remembers When

Michelle

Three Months Later

I gave Brandon’s T-shirt a few hard flips then smoothed it against my stomach. The evidence of my failure to fold laundry for a week rippled across the shirt. I sighed and tossed it in the re-tumble basket that was already overflowing. This pile of laundry was the last thing to tick off the to-do-before-my-flight list. My bags were packed, four days of food were prepared in the fridge, and Katie had already texted me four times today counting down the hours. The plan was for her to pick me up right after work, head to the airport and be in Naples by nine-thirty tonight.

My thirty-fifth birthday was last Saturday, March 14. It was a moderately uneventful day, but the cake was good. Brandon gave me money for clothes and the green light to go visit my friends in Florida. I made a plan with Katie before he could change his mind. We could have gotten cheaper tickets if we’d waited, but since we both still had our gift certificates from Alissa, we jumped on the phone and online to book our tickets at the same time. We used to do that exact thing when the new
Teen
magazine came out. We had a strict rule we wouldn’t open or read it until we were both on the phone.

A few weeks after the new year, I called Katie and asked her to meet me for coffee. After five minutes of apologies, we slipped into our old routine and made a vow to meet weekly while our friends were gone, and we’ve stuck to it. With them being gone, it would be even easier for me to slip into isolation mode, but after my breakdown in December, I was adamant to follow through with taking care of myself. Brandon was a little huffy the first time he had to take Gibson to a Saturday morning basketball game so I could keep my appointment with Katie, but even he had realized the importance of my need to see her.

Gradually, Brandon and I slipped back into the same old routine. We tried to be more flirtatious and affectionate for a few weeks after “the incident,” but when it became forced, we both silently agreed to go back to normal. Conversations revolve mostly around the kids and kitchen, but at least I don’t feel like peeling his face with the cheese grater anymore.

My last attempt to catch his attention was a huge fail. I snuck off to a lingerie store on Valentine’s Day and bought a teddy to surprise him at bedtime. We exchanged valentines, shipped the kids off to my parent’s house for the night, and went out to a nice dinner. I dressed to kill wearing a low-cut black sweater, new jeans, black boots, and my first matching bra and panty set. I was rocking my new haircut that framed my face and made me look youthful again. I was on a mission to dazzle my man.

I’m sure it would have worked if he’d actually looked at me.

Dinner was nice, but conversation involved three-word questions and simple answers. Trying to find something new to talk about with someone you’ve known since high school was tougher than I thought. He knew better than to shoptalk with me since I’d bit his head off one too many times, and there’s only so many times you can describe a workout before it bores even the instructor. I felt my evening crashing and burning but couldn’t wait to get home and model my teddy. I had a few new tricks up my sleeve. I’ve been reading.

My palms started sweating on the way home as I tried to recall my plan. I watched Brandon out of the corner of my eye and felt my face flush. I almost talked myself out of it, but I recited the order of events as I had them listed in my head and waited for the headlights to hit the garage.

Brandon turned off the car. “Ah, home, sweet home.”

I smiled. “Even better, we’re alone.”

He smirked. “That we are.”

We went inside, took off our coats, and Brandon headed to the bathroom mumbling about the stupid beer. I took my opportunity and scurried into our bedroom. I stripped off my clothes and retrieved my ornamentation hoping I could remember how to put this garment of strings and patches on my body. The red thong rested on my hips and attached to the bra with two thin ribbons meant to provide some semblance of a garment. The red lace left little to the imagination, but my tits looked fabulous. I stood back from the mirror and admired my body wrapped in pure sex appeal. I fluffed my hair, applied lipstick (which was part of my plan. Lipstick stains on underwear, prints on the stomach—oh yeah, he was about to be rocked.). I smoothed the blankets on the bed and practiced my sexy pose. I repositioned the mirror so it would be visible from the bed (yet another trick I learned this week) and slid back into the bed. I stared at the cobwebs on the curtains, looked at the ceiling fan, studied the basket of clothes sitting on top of the dresser, checked Facebook, and fluffed the pillows—still no Brandon.

I threw on my robe and snuck into the hallway. The bathroom was empty and the television in the living room was blasting a commercial about erectile dysfunction. I smirked at the irony and peeked at Brandon’s chair. He tipped back a bottle of beer and sighed with delight. I raised my eyebrows and thought the plan could easily begin in the living room and might even be hotter in execution. I sashayed into the living room and took my place on the couch. I let my robe fall apart revealing my freshly-shaved legs and painted toenails, which was such a rarity for me, I nearly turned
myself
on just by looking at them. I tilted my head so I could see Brandon’s face with a stolen glance. He stared at the television and took another pull on the bottle.

I tried my sexy voice. “What are you watching?”

He pointed at the screen. “I don’t know, some reality show.”

I adjusted my position and allowed my robe to fall open a little more. “Is it good?”

He shrugged. “Nothing special.”

That was my cue to make my move. I stood and slinked across the room to stand between him and the television. I looked into his eyes. “I may have something special for you.” I loosened the robe belt and let it fall open revealing a very different body than he was accustomed to seeing.

He grinned. “Wow, that’s . . . quite a get-up.”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat and let the robe fall to the ground. My heart pounded against my breastbone no doubt making my boobs jump. I assumed it would be an added bonus for a little breast jiggle under these circumstances. I turned to the television revealing my thong and sexily turned my head to look over my shoulder. He stared at my ass then met my eyes. I asked, “Are you sure you want to watch this show? I may have something better in mind.

He said, “Sure, I’ll be in in a minute.”

I swear I heard the record scratch as the music of my sexcapade stopped. I blinked and turned to look at him. “I’m sorry?”

He looked at the television and looked at me. “That looks great on you. You’ve really toned up a lot. Looking good, babe.” He smiled and looked at the television again.

I stared at him and felt humiliation brewing in my gut. I wouldn’t be swayed, though, so I altered my plan and went for phase two. I slid between the coffee table and his chair and leaned over him. I donned my best seductive look and whispered, “I’m certain what I’d like to do to you is much more enjoyable.” I slid my hand down his chest and played with the button on his pants. I met his surprised eyes and grinned. “Should I stop?”

He waved. “Be my guest.”

I repositioned myself and prepared to pleasure my husband in a way I rarely performed. I never have been much of a fan of giving oral sex. I always felt like a one-year-old with its first Snickers bar. I just never quite got the hang of it, so I never did it. But, I’d been studying, and I wanted to show off my newly acquired skills.

My new methods were effective—highly effective. Too effective. Two minutes later, Brandon sprawled out breathless with his fingertips embedded in the chair arms. And since Brandon had always been a one-shot wonder, I knew my chances of getting laid on Valentine’s Day had just ended in my mouth. He never even touched my new teddy or any other part of my body for that matter. He stared at me with glassy eyes and a goofy grin spread across his face as I stood. “All three of you are beautiful.”

I smirked and offered my final surprise for the night. I said, “Would you like to return the favor?” I slipped my foot on the chair arm revealing my crotchless panties and everything they weren’t supposed to cover.

He chuckled. “I can’t even move right now. Give me a minute.”

I lowered my leg and hopes and headed to retrieve my robe and a glass of wine from the kitchen. I guzzled the first glass trying to cleanse my bruised ego and console my disappointment. I poured my second glass and heard the gurgle of his first snore. This game was officially over.

He tried to make up for it the next morning, but I was too embarrassed to let him touch me. I pretended to be asleep then hung over. Okay, that part wasn’t exactly a lie, but I wasn’t that bad. I was in punishment mode. It wasn’t supposed to go down like that, pardon the pun. It ended up being one of the most memorable nights in our marriage—each for two very different reasons. Within a week, though, we were right back to normal life around the house.

Only this time I wasn’t planning his slow death with a steak knife.

At three-thirty, I hugged my kids for the sixteenth time, kissed Brandon on the cheek, and wheeled my luggage to Katie’s car. We were only going to be gone four days, but we both packed like we were never coming back. She squealed when we pulled out of the driveway. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“I so need this right now.”

She sighed. “Girl, me too. Part of me knows I’ll be green with envy when I see the house.”

I nodded. “You know it’s going to be immaculate. I can’t wait to see Lis’s pregnant belly in person. When I see her on Skype, it’s so foreign she looks Photoshopped.”

Katie laughed. “I know, right? It just doesn’t seem like it’s real. Good lord I need this break.”

I mumbled, “You and me both. Did you talk to Landon about playing softball again?”

She winced. “No, it hasn’t really come up yet. It hasn’t been a good time. He’s been really busy—”

I interrupted, “So you pussied out.”

She sighed. “Yes, I totally pussied out.”

I shrugged. “Well, if you want to play, you’re going to have to tell him quick-like.”

“I know, I know. I just hate arguing with him.”

“Look, Katie, take it from the pro of mental breakdowns. This is how it starts. You need to assert yourself and tell him what you need.”

“I also believe compromise is important, and I totally see where he’s coming from, Michelle.”

I figured it best to change the subject. Bottom line: she won’t play softball again this year because she’s too scared to inconvenience Mr. Pampered Pants. If I hadn’t been guilty of spending years doing the same thing, I’d probably be supportive of her submission. But I know what it did to me, and I would rather not watch her go through it. I said, “I intend to drink mimosas every morning til noon and margaritas til sunset.”

She hummed. “Mimosas. God I haven’t had mimosas in forever.”

“I figure I’ll sleep with Chance and you’ll sleep with Dani. I think it’s only a three bedroom.”

“Fine with me. Chance snores.”

“She can’t be any worse than either of our husbands.” I laughed.

“True, but if I’m on vacation, I’d rather not wake up wanting to suffocate someone like I do every other night of my life.”

“Ah, finally some of that frost is thawing and my old friend Katie is showing up.”

She giggled. “It takes me a minute, but I come back around.”

I got a text from Alissa and said to Katie, “Alissa says she has a surprise for us at the airport.”

“Wanna take bets on what it is?”

I rolled a few ideas through my head. “Well, it’s pretty obvious she probably hasn’t met anyone, so it can’t be a dude.”

She pointed at me. “Stranger things have happened. I’m saying it’s a limo.”

“Dammit, I bet you’re right. It’ll be late when we get to Fort Myers, and they probably don’t want to drive.

“Or maybe Chance has met someone.” Katie gasped. “Or Dani!”

I laughed. “Oh hell no. I would have heard about it by now.”

She frowned. “Why would you hear about it and I wouldn’t?”

I tried to figure out how to dodge the obvious and not confirm that Chance confides in me much more than she does Katie. Chance is a forgiving person, but she hadn’t fully gotten over Katie’s virtual betrayal during “the incident.” I had to let it go, because I needed my friend. Chance didn’t have to do shit and said so. I pushed the sleeves up on my arms. “I wish I’d tanned more before the trip.”

Katie groaned. “I wish I’d tanned at all. I’m liable to burn the first day and spend the rest of our time slathered in aloe hiding under shade trees.”

“Nah, you’ll be fine. Just ease into it.”

Six hours later, we slipped off the plane in Fort Myers and scanned the crowd for the faces of our dearest friends. I felt the wiggles of anticipation sliding through my stomach and took a deep breath. “Oh my gosh, Katie, I think I’m going to pee from excitement.”

“I don’t see them, do you?”

We walked through security and entered the waiting area. A man dressed in a dark suit held a sign that read, “Welcome to Florida, Katie and Michelle.”