Overanalyze all the things!
At the end of the week, Lanie walked into the employee room for a snack and right into a family “discussion,” aka a fight. Apparently, there was some sort of cork emergency that had set the entire family schedule board in chaos, the biggest problem being that Cora could no longer pick up the girls from dance class.
The thought of getting involved in the family matter gave Lanie a mini panic attack, but so did picturing Sam and Sierra standing alone in front of an emptied-out dance studio with no one there to pick them up. So she grabbed a dry-erase pen and wrote her name in the empty box.
This silenced the room. Breathe in for four, out for four. Repeat. Foods she’d eaten today: toast with strawberry jelly, antipasto salad, and dammit, a piece of lasagna because she was weak. Another deep breath, then she turned around and found everyone staring at her. “What?”
“Nothing,” Cora said, hugging her. “Except thank you.”
Which was how several hours later, Lanie found herself driving through heavy end-of-the-week traffic to pick up the girls at dance class.
They were thrilled to see her.
“Do you ever take dance classes?” Samantha asked.
Lanie smiled. “My favorite exercise is a cross between a lunge and a crunch. I call it lunch.”
The girls giggled and went on to chatter all the way home about their new ballet shoes, how Sierra had nailed an arabesque, and that Sam had really really wanted the headband that some girl named Camille was wearing but her dad wouldn’t buy it for her because she’d already spent her allowance on candy.
“So save next week’s allowance and buy it yourself,” Lanie suggested, glancing into the rearview mirror at Sam.
The girl’s brow furrowed, like she hadn’t thought of this. “But what if I want more candy?”
“Well, then,” Lanie said. “I guess you’ve got to decide which you want more, the candy or the headband.”
Sierra nodded sagely.
Samantha sighed. “I want both.”
“Real-world problems,” Lanie said.
The girls cocked their heads in confusion.
“That’s sarcasm,” she explained. “See, having to choose between candy and a headband, that’s a problem that a lot of people might wish to have. Instead they’ve got to choose between keeping a roof over their head and food on the table for their kids, and . . . I don’t know, paying the heating bill, that kind of thing. Do you see what I mean?”
“Real-world problems,” Sam repeated slowly, thoughtfully.
Real-world problems, Sierra mouthed to herself.
“Momma used to yell about the bills,” Sam said, staring out the window. “All the time. She said we cost too much.”
Sierra closed her eyes.
“Guess she solved her real-world problems,” Sam said quietly.
Lanie grimaced. How to stand up for the girls without hurting any good memories of their mom they might have? “Some people aren’t as good at . . . managing their problems,” she said. “It doesn’t mean they don’t love you.”
Sam didn’t say anything to this.
Lanie ached for them and knew any of the Capriottis would’ve known what to say. So of course they got stuck in traffic getting home. She finally pulled off the freeway and into a drive-through and got them all burgers and fries, which greatly improved morale. As did the toys that came in the kids’ meals.
It took them an hour to get back to the winery, and buoyed by the food, the girls used the time to barrage Lanie with questions such as “Why do socks come off in the middle of the night?” and “Why do daddies sometimes send you to your room for singing the alphabet song over and over?” and “Why do boys get to have a penis and we don’t?”
By the time they got back, Lanie needed aspirin. And possibly alcohol.
Mark drove up just as they did. He got out of his truck, hugged and kissed the girls, and sent them inside. He looked at Lanie, his eyes hidden behind his dark aviator glasses. “How in the world did you get stuck with the dreaded Friday afternoon dance-class duty?”
“I volunteered.”
“Thank you. I’ll pay you for your time—”
“No, it’s fine. Really,” she said. “It wasn’t a problem.”
“Then how about dinner? Or a movie? Whatever you want.”
Whatever she wanted sounded like a very dangerous proposition since the first thing that came to mind was more of his mouth on hers. The second thing that came to mind gave her a serious hot flash. “There’s no repayment necessary,” she said. “I wanted to do it and I did it, period. Just . . . don’t take it for something it’s not.”
“Okay.” One corner of his mouth quirked. “So I scare you that much, huh?”
She opened her mouth and then closed it because yes. He scared her that much. He held her gaze for one long moment before giving her a nod. Then, no longer smiling, he followed the girls inside, which was a good thing. She’d just put some badly needed distance between them, emotional distance. Shaking her head at herself, she leaned against her car, wanting a few minutes alone.
Which was when she saw the nail in her tire. Perfect. When she finally went inside, she ran into Cora.
“Just the person I wanted to see,” her boss said.
“I’m not ready to decide on the contract extension,” Lanie said.
Cora looked startled and then unhappy, but she just nodded. “I understand. But I was just going to thank you for getting my grandbabies.”
Crap. Note number three to self: Always let Cora speak first!
“We will of course pay you for your time,” Cora said.
“Not necessary, but say I was looking for a place to have my car looked at, where would you recommend?”
“You don’t need a place. Both Holden and Marcus are excellent mechanics. What’s wrong with your car?”
Just what she didn’t need, more face time with Mark. “Nothing,” Lanie said. “No worries.”
The next morning she got up early with the intention of driving her car to the closest gas station to see about getting the tire fixed.
But it already was.
She headed into the employee kitchen and found Mark leaning against the counter, mainlining coffee and thumbing through his phone.
“Was it you?” she asked.
He didn’t stop scrolling or look up. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
She sighed. “You didn’t have to fix my tire.”
“I know.”
“So why did you?”
Now he looked up, his eyes holding hers prisoner. “Because it needed to be done.”
She was tired of circling around him. Tired of not knowing what to think or how to take him. It was exhausting. He was exhausting. “Fine. Thank you. What do I owe you?”
He didn’t answer, just stood there, still leaning back against the counter, as calm as he pleased, wearing that uniform like he’d been born to authority.
“Well?” she asked.
“Are you really going to piss me off this early in the morning?”
She tossed up her hands. “It’s a simple question. How much do I owe you?”
He sighed and set his coffee aside. “There’s no repayment necessary. I wanted to do it and I did it. Period.”
Look at him, throwing her own words back at her with absolutely zero inflection, which was more than she’d managed. And he’d left off the part about not taking it for something it wasn’t, which made her feel even more petty and mean. “I’d rather pay than owe you a favor.”
“What part aren’t you getting here, Lanie?” He blew out a breath. “There is no price for what we give each other.”
As she had absolutely zero idea how to take that, she was still standing there, mouth open, when his phone buzzed and he walked out of the room to take the call.
River walked in, looking wary. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I just wanted food.”
Lanie sighed. “It’s okay. We were done anyway.”
“You don’t like to accept favors,” River said. “I get it. You don’t want to owe people. They take advantage of you when you owe them favors.”
“Yes.” Everything with Kyle had been a deal. Which actually had been fun and exciting for a while. If she’d wanted something, she’d have to trade favors for what he wanted. He’d take her out on a date if she’d promise to have car sex after. He’d go to the grocery store if she cooked his favorite dinner, and so on.
It sounded so mercenary now, but it hadn’t felt that way at the time. He’d been fun-loving and affectionate and passionate.
But in hindsight, he’d also been elusive, holding a part of himself back—much like her parents. And he’d made elaborate plans that he hadn’t always followed through with.
Mark appeared to be his exact opposite in that way, but she’d been preprogrammed to not trust anyone who held something over her.
River refilled Lanie’s cup. “You look like you need this caffeine more than I need a nap.”
“Sometimes I feel like I landed on Mars here.”
“Right?” River said with a little laugh, pressing her hand against her probably aching lower back. “It’s like the Nice Planet, but I keep waiting for the lights to come up and expose it for hell or something.”
“Your back hurts,” Lanie said. “Sit down.”
“No, I’ve got to refill the pot.”
“I’ve got it. Sit the hell down. And that’s not me doing you a favor here on Nice Planet,” she said before River could protest. “It’s me not wanting you to go into labor because delivering a baby isn’t on my bucket list.”
“You’re funny.” River’s smile faded. “And you know what else? You do belong here. On Nice Planet. I know you don’t think you do, but you totally do.”
“Right back at you.”
River shook her head. “No,” she said very softly. “I definitely do not.”