THE JUNIOR BRIDESMAID (23 page)

Chapter 19

            “What
do you mean you are at the police station?” I heard loud and clear even though
I had pulled the phone two feet away from my head. The officer who had so
kindly finger printed me, I think he was smitten, lifted the right side of his
mouth at Julia’s outburst.

            I
put the phone back to my ear and spoke calmly (very calmly) fearing another
disorderly would be coming my way if I raised my voice. “I’ll explain when you
get here. Please just come pick me up. My rent-o-crap is at the parking lot at
Norstride,” I explained, flashing a disingenuous grin at the officer who was
still eavesdropping.

            “Fine.
But just so you know…this is going in my gossip column,” she sort of asked.

            “Oh
goody, my 15 minutes of fame…finally.” My snappy sarcasm was met with a
chuckle. But I didn’t care if my mug shot ended up on the six o’clock news. I
just wanted out of Tremont. “Just hurry,” I insisted.

            By
the time Julia arrived to get me out, another officer had approached after hearing
I was ‘fresh in’ from New York. He was quite large and had a look in his eyes
that told me he meant business. I swallowed hard fearing he was a little
unstable. But when he reached me, he snagged a chair from another desk, flipped
it around and sat facing me. I had nowhere else to look but at him. That was
when the interrogation began. He started to grill me on the ins and outs of New
York City. He wanted to take his fiancé there for Christmas and skate at
Rockefeller Center. Imagining him on skates was a little comical but there was
no way that I was going to share that thought. He wanted to know where to stay,
where to eat, what shows to see. I gave him as much inside information as I
could and in return he conjured up a half decent, thank goodness, large cup of
coffee. It seemed like a fair trade. I said my goodbyes to the law enforcement
staff in Tremont when I saw Julia arrive and headed towards freedom.

            “So
you are telling me that you were fired from your new job before you even
started,” Julia sounded as perplexed as I did as she started her little Fiat.

I gave her a cautionary glance as
she pulled out of the police station screeching tires.

            “That’s
what I am telling you,” I nodded as she ratcheted up the speed and the scenery
began to fly by at warped speed.

Julia really ought
to slow down.

            “That
is so strange,” she murmured.

            “Yeah
well, turns out it isn’t quite as big a mystery as one would think,” I
explained. “Stacey Horner strikes again,” I shared.

“Holy crap.
Really? She is relentless,” Julia shook her head as she downshifted into a
turn. “Gosh, I wish she lived here. I would have an endless supply of material
for my column.” My head turned slowly to stare down Julia. When she noticed my
eyebrows in my hairline she shrugged. “What? I’m just sayin’.”

Ignoring Julia’s
comment, I proceeded to state the obvious. “I came here because she sabotaged
my job and apartment in New York. Now I have no job and no apartment in
Virginia,” I shook my head unable to believe the circumstances I found myself
in.

            Just
as I was about to begin my woe-is-me speech, my cell phone started ringing. I
folded myself in half and began rifling through my bag to find my phone.
“Hello?” I said with urgency in my voice hoping to catch it before it went to
voicemail.

            “Hey,
Junior, it’s me.”

            “Hey,”
I greeted sounding perturbed given the circumstances.

            Ever
perceptive, Hugh heard the disquiet and responded accordingly. “Oh. I wasn’t
thinking, Babe. I’m sorry. You’re probably just getting acclimated to your new
surroundings. I’ll call you around lunch time.”

            Hugh
thought he was interrupting something important, like my new job, but little
did he know he needn’t worry. “Hugh,” I cut into his rant. “I am, uh, not
getting acclimated to anything. As it turns out, I was, um, fired,” as my
explanation progressed, my voice diminished enough that Hugh couldn’t be
certain what I’d said.

            “What
did you say, Junior? I couldn’t hear you. It sounded like you said you were
fired,” he sounded just as confused as Julia and I.

            I
cleared my throat trying not to sound as downtrodden as I felt. “That’s right.
That’s what I said.”

My clarification
was met with silence.

“Hugh? You there?”
I asked.

            “Yeah,
Junior, I’m here,” he responded. But then there was another long pause. “Are
you fucking with me?” he queried.

            I
sighed loudly before I answered. One would certainly think that I was, as he
put it, fucking with them. But sadly I was not. “No,” I sort of sang.

            Then
Julia cut in loudly so Hugh could hear her through my phone. “And she got
arrested!” she yelled.

            “Come
again,” Hugh drawled. “Delilah Jean, did I hear her correctly?”

            My
mouth tensed in response to his question at the same time my eyebrows shot into
my hairline. No one ever called me Delilah Jean unless I was in major trouble,
which was never. I didn’t even know that Hugh knew my middle name. He must be
super angry. I slapped Julia’s thigh as she took a hairpin turn. Her two cents
weren’t worth even that. I held my pointer finger up to my lips signaling for
her to be quiet.

            “Delilah,”
Hugh said my name authoritatively.

            “Yeah?”
I asked.

            “Answer
me,” he insisted. “I need to know what I have gotten myself into.”

            Oh
shit. It never occurred to me that my arrest could negatively impact my
boyfriend who must have taken an oath or two. “It was a misunderstanding,” I
rushed defensively.

            “Is
that right?” Hugh drawled. Then I heard the laughter. “My little, Junior, went
and got herself arrested?” I was wrong. Hugh wasn’t angry. He was enjoying
himself. “Do you need an attorney?” he asked on half a chuckle.

            “Why?
Are you going to come bail me out?” I said with a sexy inflection. “Take me
into custody with a personal set of handcuffs?” I heard a strangled sound of
disgust out of Julia. I don’t know when she became such a prude.

            Hugh
started laughing before he answered. “Delilah, I am a corporate lawyer. I can
manipulate a mean merger but that’s about it,” he chuckled some more.

Hmm. I hadn’t
considered that.

After a good spell
of silence on my part, Hugh began again. This time his tone was more serious.
“But I have friends. Friends who work down at the Court House over that way.”

            Oh.
Well what fun would that be? “No, Hugh, I don’t need one of your friends to
come bail me out,” I stated with a hint of irritation. If I couldn’t have him I
didn’t want anyone.

            “No,
you have me for that,” Julia murmured eliciting another hush from my lips.

“So now what?”
Hugh asked.

            “Now
nothing. They dropped the charges. But I’m not sure about the rehab,” I
answered reflexively.

            “Wait.
What? What rehab? Junior, I was referring to your current professional
dilemma,” he clarified.

            Oh
yeah. My professional dilemma. Well. I didn’t have a job or a place to live and
I couldn’t afford to move all of my stuff back to New York. The funds in my
bank account were scarce. “Not sure yet. I’m still trying to make sense of what
the hell just happened,” I shrugged as if he could see my physical response.

“What was the
rehab remark about?” He asked clearly confused.

“Can we talk about
this later?” I answered unsure myself what to make of Charles’ comment. “I just
don’t have any solid answers right now but I’m thinking Stacey gives
retaliation a whole new meaning.”

            At
that point someone must have entered Hugh’s new office because he suddenly
sounded serious and began talking to me like I was a client. “Well, okay then.
That sounds like a good plan of action. Call me when you have some answers.
Bye, bye now.”

            I
pulled the phone from my ear and stared at it as if it would explain things
further. Then I shook my head to disconnect. I let out a huge sigh and threw
the phone back in my bag. “Is it time for a margarita yet?”

            “If
you enjoy margarita’s at 10am it is,” Julia informed as she swung her car into
the Norstride parking lot and came to an abrupt halt. My body jerked forward
and back with the force of her stop.

“You must get
your brake pads changed weekly.” I said as I opened the passenger side door.

“Bi.” Julia
responded snidely in reference to how often she changed brake pads. “Now, I
have some shit to take care of since I was so rudely interrupted. Then I have
to whip out an article on how some ding-dong from New York got herself a
disorderly in Tremont.” I watched a wicked smile appear on her face as she put
the car in drive. “See you back at the ranch,” she somewhat jested with a wink.

I raised my chin
in response and barely got my ‘thank you’ out before she started driving away.
Luckily the door closed with the force from her acceleration.

I extended my
finger to jingle the teeny-weeny gold bell that dangled from the neck of a cat
figurine that was frozen in time amidst other bric-a-brac on Julia’s antique
hutch. He looked like he was having a grand ol’ time wrestling a ball of yarn.
It also looked like the yarn was winning. The keepsake was parked on the middle
shelf that sat eye level. The bell made a delightful sound and my mind went
straight back to the day she bought it.

I was with her at
a street fair. We were young, maybe twelve, and it was one of the first days of
spring that was sunny and warm enough to give us a taste of what summer was
promising to offer. I was wearing one of my itty-bitty tank shirts (without a
bra because I definitely didn’t need one) and a short skirt. We had just
purchased ice cream cones from a portable cart that was parked between a soap
vendor and a woman who crocheted doilies. The street fair was packed with
townspeople young and old. It seemed like anyone who was anyone was out that
day. But a certain someone instantly caught my eye. The one. The only. Matthew
Rowen. He and his buddies were walking around as if they owned the town, on a
high because they were graduating high school. I remember the sadness that
enveloped me when I realized that I wouldn’t see him after the summer was over
because he would leave for college. Julia must have been tapping me on the
shoulder for an hour trying to get my attention to show me this sweet little
tabby adorned with a bell that actually jingled around its neck. I turned to
Julia to affirm how darling it was so she could feel good about her $.90 cent
purchase and when I looked back to see Hugh, he was gone. We strolled around
for another hour, me looking for Hugh while Julia babbled on about how she
should start collecting cats. But we didn’t see him for the rest of our stay.
Then, just as my mother arrived to pick us up, I caught a glimpse of Hugh
sitting across the street atop an outdoor bench. His butt was on the back of
the bench and his feet were on the seat. His elbows were resting on his knees
with his hands clasped together just under his chin. He looked like he was
contemplating something big. His glasses were mirrored so I couldn’t be sure
what he had his sights on, but with every fiber of my being I wanted to believe
that Hugh was looking at me. I even went so far as to lock my eyes on him as we
drove past, hoping beyond hope that his gaze would follow my car. And it did
for a short spell. But then his head snapped back to where we had been
standing. When I turned to see what had caught his attention, the sting of
reality pierced my hopeful balloon. Because there, standing at the curb where I
had just stood moments before, was Darcy Strong wiggling her fingers in Hugh’s
direction. That was the day that Hugh began his relationship with Darcy. And
that damn tabby was the most painful reminder.

Chapter 20

Julia’s home was
even better than I had first admired. Every square inch of the house was well
organized and decorated beautifully. Even the closets were neat and orderly.
After changing into the last outfit I had packed and carried on the plane, I
made my way to the kitchen to test the ‘how early is too early for a margarita’
theory. I found out that margaritas could be ingested at any point of the day;
especially if it was made with fresh strawberries.

Mm-mm-mm-mm-mm.
After my second, made with a much-needed second application of salt around the
rim (not an easy task with the glass still half full,) my cell phone began to
sing in my bag. I could hear the faint rhythm of my theme song emanating from
the floor where I dropped my bag as I entered. I folded to my knees in front of
my bag and fished out my phone. Fighting the urge to sing along, I slid my
finger over the screen to connect the call.

“Helloooo,” I sang
feeling happier than I should as a result of my liquid concoction.

There was a brief
silence before I heard a deep clearing of a voice. “Delilah?” It was Steven. My
old boss.

“Oh, hey, Steven!”
I said enthusiastically.

“Hello, Delilah.
If you have a minute I, uh, need to talk to you.” If anything, he seemed
hesitant to talk to me.

Since he sounded
peculiar, I figured he had heard the embarrassing news that I had been expunged
from my job before I even started. For some reason I felt an overwhelming need
to explain myself. I jumped to standing as if talking to him while I was still
parked on the floor would be disrespectful.

“Steven, I didn’t
do anything, I swear. And I have never even so much as smoked a cigarette, I
sort of swear.” Steven had always been like a father figure to me and the last
thing I wanted was for him to be disappointed in me. “I found out they let me
go just as I stepped my foot in the door. I didn’t even have a chance to screw
up,” I rushed.