You can imagine how thrilled I am to be touring the Elbow Chocolate factory on this fine April morning. Oh, I got my three volunteers from the email I sent out, so I figured I was home free. That is, until Trudy Elder called me this morning to back out … something about Zach having Coxsackie. Oh, isn’t that convenient. Hey, lady, some of us just suck it up and honor our commitments.
So here I stand in a hell that involves a still-sore groin, the futility of making chocolate bunnies, and the torture of those sweet sirens (milk and dark) being created right in front of my face. I have said, “No, thank you,” at least ten times to samples passed my way. I wish there was a Nobel Prize for self-denial.
The kids are having a ball watching chocolate turn into bunnies. I guess I suffer from a tragic lack of curiosity, because I have never wondered how they make the hollow ones, but it’s actually knowledge I am now happy to have.
Our guide this morning is Jacques (effectively morphed from his real name, Jack, to make our chocolatier experience that much more exotic) and he has already showed us how to pour just the right amount of chocolate into the bunny mold and then twist it around until all the sides are evenly covered and there is no excess chocolate, all while flirting with Miss Ward in a disturbingly obvious way. I mean, jeez, there are kids watching! Enough with the double entendres, Jacques.
Joining me on my chocolate journey this morning are Jill Kaplan and JJ Aikens, who was much friendlier than I expected when I showed up instead of Trudy.
She and I are standing on the periphery of the chocolate inner circle and have a distant but effective view of the Jacques show.
“Now, who wants a solid bunny tail to bite into?” he asks the children in an accent that can only have been acquired by watching Maurice Chevalier movies and spending time in North Dakota. We see him wink at Miss Ward, and she giggles.
“Can you believe her?” JJ says out of the side of her mouth, in case there are any lip-readers in the vicinity.
“Well, they’ve definitely got a little something going on,” I counter in a low voice.
“Uh, yeah, they do. How do you think we got this private tour?”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I hear she’s sleeping with him!” JJ side-talks to me again.
“Are you sure?” I turn to see if she is kidding.
“Well, I wasn’t there, but Kim told me.”
“Was she there?”
I’m rewarded with a barking laugh from JJ. That’s a first.
“You never know.” JJ sounds a little bitter.
I’m trying to play catch-up with all this new info being launched my way. Jacques and Miss Ward are having a fling, and Kim Fancy knows all about it. Kim Fancy who (and I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it) slapped Miss Ward across the face two months ago. I need to know more. I regard JJ and wonder just how much truth serum she has taken today.
“I haven’t seen you and Kim together much lately,” I fish with small bait.
JJ looks at me like I’m a drink of water in the desert. “Thank you! I know. I feel very pushed aside.”
“Pushed aside by who?” I fake genuine concern. “Miss Ward?”
“What? No,” she scoffs. “By her training.”
“Her training?”
“Yeah. She’s spent the last few months training to do a mud run this month.”
Mud run? I get a little sick to my stomach.
“She’s obsessed with it. She’s working with a trainer and everything.”
This news hits me like a punch in the gut. Why, I do not know. I mean, who cares if Kim Fancy is doing the same mud run that I am? It doesn’t make me any less special.
Yes it does! screams the cocktail party in my head.
I see Jill Kaplan waving frantically at me from the other side of the chocolate river.
“We better join them,” I say to JJ.
As we walk toward where the kids are going to decorate their bunnies, I pull myself together. Jacques has lined up fifteen small bunnies, one for each of the kids to personalize and take home. There are candy eyes, candy bows, candy hats, and even candy carrots for them to have fun with. I notice Max trying to put the candy carrot on the bunny’s nose like he would make a snowman nose, but he can’t get it to stick, so he eats it.
“Hey, no eating the accessories, buddy,” I admonish him.
“What’s the assesories?”
“The decorations.” There is a lull in the constant chatter as the kids busy themselves with their task. I glance up to see Miss Ward and Jacques standing in the corner whispering while they watch.
“Could she be any more obvious?” JJ sidles up to me to continue her bitch session. I find myself wondering if Miss Ward did indeed whore herself out for a free class tour of the chocolate factory and decide that if she did, she’s a better woman than I am.
“You know, I’ve been training for a mud run, too,” I tell JJ as a way to change the subject. “I wonder if it’s the same one Kim is doing.”
“You are?” JJ’s tone is a little more incredulous than I would like.
“Yeah. I’ve been training since September.”
“Wow, I had no idea mud runs are so in vogue.” She seems baffled that she would be out of the loop on something popular.
“Oh, yes. All the middle-aged housewives are doing it.”
“Really?”
I smile. “No, I’m just kidding. Do you know which race Kim is planning to run?”
“Uh, it’s here in April. That’s all I know. Is that the one you are doing?”
“I think so. I had an accident a few weeks ago and it put me on the disabled list. I get to start training again next week.” As I say this, it starts to throb down there and I realize starting to work out again is going to be a bitch. I’m still tender, plus I’m out of shape. Garth is going to have an “I told you so” field day.
“Maybe I should do it, too.” JJ jostles me out of my thoughts.
My God, does this woman ever do anything on her own? She is a professional bandwagon-jumper-on, if there is such a thing.
“Absolutely. Give it a go,” is all I say to her.
“Less chitchat, please, moms.” Miss Ward has extracted herself from Jacques and joined us without JJ or me noticing. I ignore the reprimand.
“Looks like you and Jacques have made a love connection,” I comment.
Miss Ward makes the face I make when I have smelled bad cheese.
“He’s not my type at all.”
I look at JJ and she rolls her eyes.
“Okay, it’s time to get the kids into their coats and back on the bus.” Miss Ward pulls her purse over her shoulder.
As the little ones load onto the bus, clutching their bunnies, each one wrapped in cellophane, I give Max a hug and thank JJ and Jill for chaperoning.
My phone buzzes while I’m starting up the trusty minivan. God, it feels good to sit down! It’s a text from Ron.
Want a night off from cooking? Let’s go to Garozzo’s for dinner.
Oh, he read my mind.
Max too?
Already got Chyna to sit with him, so it’s just you and me, babe.
Sounds like just what I need.
Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I got. I did kiss a lot of frogs, but it was worth it to end up with this prince of a man.
My phone buzzes again.
You look great today.
Dinner and flattery? Hm … something’s up.
Thanks! You always look great.
Seriously? I didn’t think you noticed.
How can I not?
Glad you like what you see.
Typical Ron. He has no idea how cute he is.
I do indeed.
You’re making me smile.
I want to do more than that.
Aren’t you frisky today!
You are, too.
What do you want to do about it?
I text him my sign for boobs since they’re his favorite part of my body. The poor man hasn’t had sex since my accident. He’s been so patient. Then I have an idea.
How about we take a little bathroom break at Garozzo’s tonight?
Really?
Really. You’ve waited long enough.
Wow. I don’t know what to say.
Say you’ll see me at 7, dummy!
Okay.
I laugh as I start the minivan and pull into traffic. Ron and I used to flirt-text all the time. It’s been too long. Tonight should be fun. I haven’t had bathroom sex in ages.
* * *
Ron has a last-minute work crisis, so I end up meeting him at the restaurant. He is waiting for me in his car and jumps out when I pull up. He seems a bit preoccupied, so to cheer him up I give him a huge hug and let him know I’ve gone commando tonight.
“Really? Wow. That’s unexpected.” He grins like a goof.
“I thought I’d make it as convenient as possible.” I squeeze his butt.
“It?” He squeezes mine back.
“Yes, it.”
“Well, this is a nice surprise.”
“Really?” I stop walking and look at him. “We planned it earlier.”
“We did? When?”
“Today. You were flirty-texting me.” I reach into my purse to show him my phone and when I look up I see Don Burgess coming around the corner. He stops short when he sees us. Complete and utter horror washes over me as I realize what I’m going to see when I look at my texts. Don. Ron. Shit. I seriously need to think about getting glasses.
“What are you talking about? Let me see.” He reaches for my cell and I consider making a run for it. But in the end I know this will all go better if I just ’fess up.
Don is frozen in place, looking very confused. I’m guessing he’s trying to assess the situation.
Ron finishes reading and looks first at me and then notices Don.
“Don. What’s up? Having dinner here tonight?” Ron’s voice is way too calm for my comfort.
“Uh, yeah.” Don, to his credit, looks confused and uncomfortable. “You guys, too?”
“We sure are. Who are you eating with?” Ron crosses his arms and takes a wide stance, like he’s a bouncer.
“Okay, okay, let’s not make this awkward,” I say, as though it isn’t already. I stand between the two of them. Don and Ron. Jeez, what are the odds?
“Did you come here to have sex with my wife in the bathroom?” Ron’s velvet voice is about an octave lower than usual.
Don’s face shows no sign of the panic that is ripping through me.
“Um, no. I came here to tell her I couldn’t have sex with her in the bathroom.”
“What?” Ron and I say at the same time. I’m a little insulted. He’d be lucky to have sex with me anywhere, especially a bathroom. I realize this wouldn’t be a smart thing to say right now, so I force out a laugh.
“It’s all a big misunderstanding.” I put my hand on Ron’s arm. “It’s actually really funny when you think about it.”
“It would be funny if this guy hadn’t shown up thinking he was going to screw my wife.” Ron yanks his arm away and glares at Don.
“Hey, whoa,” says Don. “That’s not why I came.” He puts his hands up and starts to walk backward. Not a great idea as he only has about two feet before he falls over a planter filled with super-tunias and lands flat on his back.
“Are you okay?” I start toward him, but Ron holds me back.
“He’s fine.” He leads us both into the restaurant. I mouth, “I’m sorry,” to Don as I’m pulled through the door.
“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Dixon.”
Irina greets us from behind her podium. I call her the hostess with the moistest because her hands are always wet. She is one of our favorite people at Garozzo’s, and normally I would ask how her kids are and take a few moments to chat, but tonight I don’t dare do anything except give her a quick smile and nod.
Ron takes the wheel.
“Irina, can we get the table in the back by the small window?”
She gives him a puzzled look, but only says, “Sure thing, follow me.”
She gathers up a couple of menus and leads us through the half-full restaurant to what is generally known as the crappiest table at Garozzo’s because it has the distinct honor of being both by the bathroom and near the place where the waiters congregate to place their orders. If Ron is trying to punish me, mission accomplished.
As we sit down, I open my mouth to start explaining, but Ron, who still has my phone, is busy scrolling through my texts with Don. Oh, shit. He finally looks up at me.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Uh-oh. Ron never drops the f-bomb. This is bad.
“Sweetie, I’m sorry. You saw the texts. You know it was a mistake.”
“For you, it was. But he thought it was real. Why the fuck would he think you’d invite him to screw you at a restaurant?” He pauses. “Are you having an affair?”
“No!” I say as emphatically as I can. “No. No. Never. I would never do that.”
“Oh, come on, Jen!” Ron snaps at me. I look over his shoulder and notice we’re drawing looks from some of the customers. “You’ve been texting with this guy since the beginning of the school year.”
“Yes, but it’s just texting. Stupid, mindless texting that means nothing.” I’m trying to remember just how bad the flirting got.
“Why would you write ‘Do you mean coffee or COFFEE’ in capital letters? If some woman texted that to me, I’d think she was coming on to me.”
“Would you like to hear the specials?” Our waitress makes an untimely entrance.
“Can I have a glass of red wine?” I ask.
“Me, too.” Ron rubs his hands over his eyes.
She nods and walks away. I look at Ron, and he takes a deep breath.
“I just meant to be funny, I wasn’t coming on to him. You need to believe that.”
Ron shakes his head and looks at the table.
The wine arrives, and we both take a huge gulp. I can tell Ron doesn’t know what to say, so I keep going.
“You know, it probably wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t told him I had a crush on him in high school.”
“Oh, please, he already knew that.”
“Trust me, he had no idea.”
“What about your big hookup in the P.E. laundry room?”
“We didn’t hook up!” I suddenly realize I’ve never told him the story. “I walked in on him going down on the girls’ volleyball coach.”
Ron raises his eyebrows.
“Really?”
“I was in detention and they used to make us help out the custodial staff. I was given a bunch of uniforms to wash. So I went to the P.E. building, walked in the laundry room, and got an eyeful of Don having a box lunch.”
“Wow. Did they see you?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“Did the teacher get fired?”
“I don’t know. The only real conversation Don and I ever had in high school was when he asked me not to say anything. He said they were in love, if you can believe it.”
Ron smirks, and I think I can see a thaw coming. But then his brows come together again.
“But none of this explains why he came here tonight.” He runs his hands through his hair and scratches really hard. “I mean, Jesus. He thought he was going to have sex with you. There must be something else.”
“Well, technically, he says he came here not to have sex with me, so…”
Ron scowls at me. I heave a deep breath trying to slow my heart beat down. We drink our wine in silence until Ron finally says, “I’ve lost my appetite.” He gets up and puts some money on the table.
“I’ll see you at home.” As he walks away, I can barely see him through the tears welling up in my eyes.
* * *
I finish both glasses of wine at the table by myself. I have a headache from trying not to cry, so when I get to the minivan I let loose and sob for a good ten minutes. Ron has never walked out on a fight before. That’s usually my job—I’m the runner, he’s the chaser. I have no idea how to make things right. I’m really hoping he just needs time to cool down.
I drive home in a fog. My stomach is queasy and my head is still pounding despite my sobfest—most likely because I haven’t had anything to eat since two o’clock. As I pull up to our house, I see about five cars in the driveway; all are familiar, and I’m immediately panic-stricken. I leap out of the minivan and run to the front door, where I’m greeted by a burst of laughter coming from my living room. WTF?
When I walk into the room, my family and friends are sitting in a circle playing Apples to Apples. My mother looks up at me.
“Well, finally. We thought you guys would never get here.”
“What are you all doing here?” I ask with no social grace whatsoever.
“Ask your husband,” my mom suggests.
“Is he here?”
“He’s supposed to be with you.” Nina stands and walks toward me. “What’s wrong?” She knows me better than anyone. Not to mention my eyes probably look like I’ve gone five rounds with Muhammad Ali.
“He left the restaurant before me, that’s all. What are you guys doing here?” I ask again.
“We came to talk to you,” Laura says as she starts to clean up the card game.
“About what? What’s wrong? Why are you two not at school?”
“We’re heading back tonight, don’t have a cow.” Vivs frowns. “Why isn’t Ron here, is the real question. He called this powwow.”
“I need some water,” I say, and head to the kitchen. What the hell are all these people doing in my house? I’m so not in the mood for this. Chyna walks in as I’m chugging my drink.
“Max is on your bed watching TV,” she tells me. “Do you want me to stay with him?”
“Would you mind, sweetie? I need to deal with what’s going on in my living room.”
“Sure, good luck.” She gives me what looks like a pitying smile and heads back upstairs.
I start for the living room, but my mother cuts me off in the hallway and drags me back to the kitchen. She backs me up against the counter and looks at every square inch of my face. Finally she speaks, in the kindest voice I think I have ever heard her use.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Oh, Mom.” I dissolve into tears and throw my arms around her.
“Shhh. Okay, okay. Let it out.”
When I can finally calm down enough to get a coherent sentence out, I briefly tell her the whole sordid tale, starting with when I first saw Don at curriculum night and ending with this evening’s fiasco.
“I thought it was just fun, you know? It made me feel giddy. But I never ever would have taken it anywhere. I love Ron and I’m happier than most married people I know. Why would I put any of that at risk just to have a laugh? What is wrong with me?”
“Oh, sweetheart, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re just mourning your youth.”
Great, my mother’s calling me old. I say as much to her.
“Jennifer Rose, that is not what I said. Of course you’re not old, but you’re also not that twenty-two-year-old girl traipsing through Europe throwing her cat around.”
“Mom!”
“No, listen to me.” She leads me to the kitchen table and pulls out two chairs for us.
“You did it all and had a great time, and don’t ever tell your father this, but I’m glad you had a little fun. We got married right out of high school, and he’s the only man I have ever kissed, let alone … you know.” She looks at her lap.
I let that little overshare sink in for a minute.
“Are you saying you regret only being with Dad?”
“No, I’m saying it’s okay to realize that the really fun part of your life just might be behind you. Be sad that it’s over, and then move on. Those years aren’t coming back, no matter how young a little flirting makes you feel. And believe me, there’s a whole lot of good stuff still to come.”
I look at my mother and try to see her not as my mom, but as a woman. It’s not something we often do as daughters. Then something occurs to me.
“So, did you ever have a little flirtation with someone?”
She gives me a worldly grin. “Now, sweetheart, you don’t think I went to bingo all those years because I loved playing it, do you?”
I crack up at this and continue to laugh until I start crying again. Ugh.
My mom hands me a paper napkin from the holder on the table and waits for me to calm down.
When I do, I ask her to tell me why everyone is here.
“Oh, my goodness. I forgot about them. We should get back in there.”
She holds her hand out for me, the way she used to when I was a child. I happily take it.
“But why are they here?” I ask again.
“You’ll see. It was Ron’s idea.”
At the mention of his name, my stomach does a high dive. I wonder when he’ll be home.
That question is answered as we enter the living room; he’s sitting with my dad, my daughters, Nina, and Garth, quietly waiting for something to happen.
“So, what’s going on?” I say to no one and everyone.
My mother, who has joined my father on the couch by this time, nods to Ron, who nods back; then she stands up and takes a piece of paper out of her bra. Nice, Mom. Way to keep it classy.
“Jennifer, I just want to start by saying we are so proud of you. I mean, let’s face it, you weren’t exactly on the fast track to success after your little trip to Europe.”
That elicits a good laugh from the crowd.
“But you pulled yourself together and have created a beautiful life.”
“Thanks, Mom.” My eyes start to well up again, and so do hers. She hands the paper to my father, sits down, and blows her nose into the tissue that permanently lives in her sleeve.
My father stands and clears his throat.
“We have really enjoyed watching you get yourself back into shape and, honey, you really look terrific. Not that you weren’t always a beauty, but you have a real nice healthy glow these days.”
“Um, thanks, Dad.” Why are they saying all these nice things? My birthday isn’t for, like, two weeks.
Nina goes next.
“Girl, you know how I love to bust you about your training, but I know you’ve really put your heart and soul into it. I wish I had the discipline to go the distance like you have. You’re my hero.” She raises her glass to me in salute.
My eyes are misty with tears that just won’t stop. I can’t believe all the love I’m receiving. It’s too much, considering the emotional tsunami I have already been through today.
“My turn!” Vivs stands up and makes everyone laugh.
“Mom, you are without a doubt one of the most insane people I know. Nobody I know has a mom like you. You taught Laurs and me to be strong, independent women, but you also forced us to learn how to do laundry and cook. I swear I’m the only one of my friends who knows how to sew a button.”
“Well, that’s just shameful,” my mother interjects. The lack of domestic capability among the younger generation really grinds her gears.
“Anyway, we love you and we are really proud of you, no matter what.”
No matter what?
As I’m pondering this last line, Laura takes the wheel.
“You have been the best mother ever. Even when you did things like hit us with your shoe when you were driving—”
“That was one time!” I feel the need to defend myself.
“I know! I’m just saying that even though you lost your temper and were really mean sometimes—”
“Laura, stop talking.” Vivs takes her by the arm and pulls her down.
“She knows I love her,” Laura protests, but remains seated.
Garth stands up beside Nina and gives me that great megawatt smile I remember so well from the first time I met him.
“Jen, you are a rock star. You took a chance on an old has-been trainer like me, and I have enjoyed the last six months so very much. Becoming your friend has just been icing on an already frosted cake.”
“Thanks, Garth, I feel the same way.”
“But here’s the thing.”
Ah! The thing. Finally we get to the thing.
“I don’t think you should attempt a mud run for the next few months.”
I’m surprised I didn’t put this together sooner. I mean, my dad talked about what a nice body I have now. When would that ever come up in a happy-birthday speech?
Everyone is watching to see what my reaction will be. If they had caught me on another night, I might have argued with them, but tonight the fight is all out of me, so I just shrug.
“I don’t really know what to say. I can see you’ve put a lot of thought into this, and clearly you have had meetings behind my back.”
“Just one,” Laura assures me.
I wink at her; then I look straight at Garth.
“Really?”
He smiles sheepishly. “We’ll do this, I promise. I just don’t think you’re ready. You were, believe me. But missing these last three weeks has put you off schedule for the one in April. I’ve told you before, August will be your shining moment.”
“But in the meantime…” Ron stands up. I haven’t been able to make eye contact with him this whole time. “I want you to think about doing the mini event at my store.” His monotone feels like a slap in the face after all the love I’ve been getting.
“You’re doing that event again?”
He nods. “The governor’s office called us last week and asked if we would participate again.”
I look at Garth, who gives me a thumbs-up.
“Back to the scene of the crime, huh?”
“This time you’ll crush it,” Vivs assures me. Everyone nods in agreement.
I’m suddenly overwhelmed by the events of the night. I can’t help it. I start to cry yet again.
Laura and Vivs get out of their chairs and rush over to awkwardly hug me. How did they know that’s just what I needed?
* * *
On my way to bed that night, I tiptoe into Max’s room to kiss him good night and find him still awake.
“Can’t you sleep, buddy?” I sit down on his bed and brush the hair from his eyes.
“No. I think I ate too much bunny,” he mumbles.
I suppress a smile.
“I’m surprised Chyna let you eat it.”
“She didn’t really know,” he whispers. “She thinks I just ate the ears.”
“Well, that’s not cool. Just because I’m not home doesn’t mean you can break the rules.”
“I know.” He yawns. “I’m sorry. Will you lie down with me?”
I know I should go into the bedroom and try to talk to Ron, but I really don’t feel like being iced again. After everyone left, he went upstairs without a word. And anyway, who could refuse such an offer? I cram myself into the race-car bed and Max snuggles into me.