Father Knows Best Part 14

That super-mature (in my book) decision happened on a perfect Colorado July day. Cloudless, turquoise skies, perfectly warm but not sweaty-hot temperature. People smiled at each other on the street, and we all knew that the evening would cool off enough for us to sit on our back patios to watch the spectacular sunset, comfortably decked out in sweats.h.i.+rts and jeans. All seemed swell in my world.

Chloe had given me a boatload of packages to cart down to the FedEx store, which I dragged along behind me in one of those metal rolly things that cute grandmas use to lug their groceries home. I was fully leaded on java, loving my outdoor task, and looking forward to an evening spent with Dylan after we both got off work.

I've never been able to whistle, but I was easing out this lame pseudowhistle-rasp as I hoofed it up the sidewalk toward FedEx, staring up at the endless beauty of the sky. So when I slammed into the other pedestrian, it threw me out of my mellow for a sec. My grandma cart careened to one side and dumped its load on the sidewalk.

"I'm so sorry," came the voice above me as I bent down to gather up my goods, thankful nothing was breakable.

"It's okay. My fault. I wasn't paying attention."

"I was staring up at the sky," said the voice.

"Yeah, same here." I peered up at none other than Jennifer Hamilton.

"Oh," we both said. It had become a pattern with us, that "Oh" thing, as if we were simpletons.

I faltered, but maintained my cool as best I could. My gaze dropped to her tummy, which had started to protrude in an impossible-to-ignore,totally-not-the-normal-skeletor-Jennifer kind of way. She'd even gained a ton of weight in her face. I mean, come on, this was a girl who wouldn't eat in front of the opposite s.e.x last year. Yet here she stood, all pudgy-like, and seemingly cool with it.

As if she had a choice.

"Are you...um...okay? I didn't hurt you guys or anything, did I?"

She laid her palm on her abdomen-why do pregnant woman always do that? "No. I'm fine. Or I should say, we're fine."

"That's...good," I mumbled as I gathered up the rest of my stuff with shaky hands. My heart had started to rev. The thing is, despite my vow not to retch every time I thought of Jennifer, I didn't exactly know what to say to her in person. This situation was uncomfortable to the max.

Uncomfortable like the whole "how do you end your laugh?" conundrum. You've heard of it, right? Once you start thinking about it, you always realize you sound like a dumba.s.s at the end of your laugh, and then it's hard to (1) laugh, but even more to (2) stop laughing once you've started.

Because you don't want to sound like a dumba.s.s.

Get it?

Okay, my thoughts were making like a grandma cart and veering way off-track-big shocker. Not. It's just the way my gray matter seems to operate.

"You working?" Jennifer asked, yanking me back to the present.

I shot her a glance. "Uh. Yeah. You?"

"Well, the free kind of work, yes." She laughed.

She laughed! Like, within the context of a conversation with me. Me, Lila Moreno. Archenemy. She-who-allegedly-stole-Dylan (even though I didn't). I don't know why I was so weirded out by this surreal exchange, but there you have it. I was. And it wasn't as if I hadn't seen Jennifer-who, incidentally, was rocking the full-on mousy light brown coif by now-in the past month, but we'd always had Meryl as a much-needed buffer and conversation conduit. It freaked me to be one-on-one with Jennifer. I mean, what the heck was I supposed to say now?

Sorry I could've hurt your fetus. Smell ya later?

Nothing seemed right.

Come to think of it, nothing had seemed right ever since my friends and I had found out about Jennifer and her baby. In that instant, everything about our carefully planned-out summers subtly (or dramatically, I wasn't sure which) changed.

Why was that?

With all my loot loaded back into my grandma cart, I stood and brushed my palms against the sides of my jeans. "Okay, well...I have to go to FedEx."

"Oh. Sure." She stepped aside, tucking her hair-which, admittedly, was still cut in a cute style-behind her ears. "I guess I'll...see you around?"

"Uh-huh." Sure. Whatever. Like she'd want to?

I started to roll my cart up the sidewalk again, away from Jennifer, thank G.o.d. I needed to hit the brakes on my racing brain and get back to my happy-day-in-July place, darn quick. Where were those bluebirds on my shoulder when I needed them? Freakin' fairweather Disney.

"Lila, hang on," Jennifer called out.

I stopped, but I didn't turn around. My gut clenched.

"Can I...can we..."

With trepidation, I peered back toward her. She seemed to be struggling with her words. Her skin got blotchy red when she was nervous, I noticed. Not a good look for her. "What?"

"Do you have time for a cup of coffee at Mountain Lion?"

My eyes must have projected my incredulity.

She held up a hand. "I just thought we could talk. Nothing more."

I turned back toward her then, resting both palms on the cart's handle. "You don't have to do this. I'm cool with you hanging out with Meryl. You don't have to pretend to be my friend, too, okay? I get it."

"It's not that." She uttered a frustrated sound.

"What, then?"

Her face got this pinched look, and she didn't bother to brush away the strands of hair that the gentle breeze blew across her lips. "You and Meryl...and Reese and Kelly...have been nicer to me than my own group of so-called friends ever since"-she indicated her midsection-"or maybe, nicer to me than they ever were, which makes me an idiot."

I felt an unwelcome twinge of compa.s.sion. "You're not an idiot. They're idiots." Actually evil flying monkey idiots, I thought but, thankfully, didn't voice.

"Whatever. I guess." A pause. "Yeah, they are."

I watched her neck contract with a tight swallow, and it occurred to me that this might be as difficult for her as it was for me, not that she deserved my sympathy, really, after all the bullying she'd inflicted on me and my friends over the years. But I still felt a pang of it.

"I just...owe you guys more than I've said." Jennifer shrugged. "That's all."

I squirmed from one foot to the other. "Oh. Well. It's okay. If that's all."

"It's not all." She raked her hair away from her face. "See, I've been attending these teen AA meetings, and-"

"You're an alcoholic, too?" I blurted, stunned by this news bomb on top of everything else. Oops, I guess that was thoughtless.

She laughed nervously. "No. Not at all. But my home life totally sucks. My friends are..."

"I know," I said softly.

"Yeah, I guess we've covered that." She huffed. "It's weird, me with the whole AA thing. I realize that. But everyone there is so nice and nonjudgmental, and they listen to me. They're the only people who seem to really...listen. Plus, a lot of what they say makes sense beyond the whole alcoholism thing."

I blinked a couple of times, trying to wrap my brain around thisbrownish-haired,AlcoholicsAnonymousattending, makeup-free, chubby, pregnant Jennifer Hamilton.

Like, seriously, who the h.e.l.l was she?

I gulped. "Are you telling me you're working the ten steps, but just not in an alcoholic way?"

"Twelve."

"Huh?"

"There are actually twelve steps."

"Oh." Whatever. "So, are you?"

She shrugged. "I'm not 'working them' in any formal way. But this whole...baby thing has given me a lot of time to look at myself, and I'm not always happy with what I see."

I half laughed. "I can understand that." Oops. "I mean, no offense."

"None taken." She twisted her uncharacteristically unglossed lips to the side. "Besides, you're right and I know it." She paused. "I guess I just want to make some changes in the way I live my life."

This intrigued me. "Like what?"

"Come have a cup of coffee and we'll talk." She stared at me, a challenge. "My treat."

I stared back, chewing on the insides of my cheeks.

Finally, she rolled her eyes. "I'm not asking to be your best friend, for G.o.d's sake. You're not required to confide a single thing in me. It's just coffee. The brown stuff. Nectar of the Wired G.o.ds."

I smirked. She had a point, and hadn't I said I was going to try harder to not actively despise her, in light of her tribulations? This was my chance to walk the talk, as Meryl always touted. I glanced at my grandma cart. "Well, I have to get this stuff s.h.i.+pped first." I hesitated. "Then I have to call my boss and ask her if I can take a break."

"That's cool," she said mildly. "Look, if you can make it, I'll be at Mountain Lion. If not, I understand." And then she turned heel and headed in the opposite direction.

Seriously.

No snit. No snark. No snide remark.

Hey, I think I just made some kind of a poem.

Well, at least it rhymed.

But back to the Jennifer sitch. I swear this summer was getting weirder by the second. I mean, what would she understand if I didn't show up? That I hated her? Did I hate her? I stood there for probably two minutes, stunned by what had just occurred, replaying it in my mind, trying to get real with how I truly felt. This time last year, if Jennifer and her minions had witnessed me dragging FedEx packages up the street, they would've (1) mocked me, or (2) looked past me, as if I were just another pine tree in the whole d.a.m.n forest.

That was then, this is now.

Wait-is that the name of a book? Never mind.

In any case, progress, right?

Still, I didn't have to go. She'd given me an out.

All I had to do was pretend that Chloe needed me back at the agency, and I'd be off the hook. No questions asked. The world's perfect lie. Perhaps for that very reason, I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and dialed Chloe's number. It rang twice before she answered.

"Hi, it's Lila. I was just wondering if I could take a twenty-minute break after I finish at FedEx?"

Unprecedented, I know.

Lila Moreno and Jennifer Hamilton. Having coffee-decaf or something for her, of course, since she was preggers. And yet, despite the fact that I'd agreed to meet up with my ultimate nemesis, and not for a rumble, the earth didn't seem to be splitting in half.

At least...not so far. But I have to say, I kept my ear perked for the cracking sound.

Chapter Ten.

The vulnerable way Jennifer's face lit up when I walked into Mountain Lion Coffee shot a lightning bolt of guilt through me for even having contemplated blowing her off. She waved both arms with enthusiasm-as if I wasn't capable of finding her in the small establishment. Duh. Her hair may have returned to its un.o.btrusive natural color, but those platinum blond-dyed roots reached straight into her brain waves, boy.

Be nice, Lila, my conscience said. Actually, I think my conscience is a dead ringer for Meryl-no lie. It might even be Meryl, and without her I'd morph into some impulsive, politically incorrect sociopath.

I held up a finger, then pointed toward the front counter. After ordering a nonfat latte (extra hot, extra foam, double shot), I headed over to her table.

"Thanks for coming," she said.

"You thought I wouldn't?" The chair legs sc.r.a.ped on the polished concrete floor as I pulled it away from the table and sat down.

"Totally," she said.

We both chuckled nervously.

She eyed my java. "I told you I'd treat."

I shrugged. "Raincheck. I only have twenty minutes before I have to be back at work, and I didn't want you to lose the table."

She sipped her cocoa, nodding. "What's it like working for your boyfriend's mom?"

I averted my gaze.

Awkward, awkward, awkward.

She sighed. "Listen, Lila, if you think I'm fis.h.i.+ng for info about Dylan, I'm not. Being pregnant? It forces you to examine your life whether you want to or not. He and I were never right for each other. Ever. Let's just lay that right out on the table and be done with it, once and for all. I don't have romantic feelings for Dylan. None. Pathetic as this may sound, I don't know that I ever really did."

A beat pa.s.sed. "O-okay. So, why'd you date him?"

She twisted her mouth to the side. "Because he's...Dylan."