The Life She Wants

Nor had she had another best friend.

Today was a fairly typical day. She started with a meeting with Brazil and Jeanette, going over office matters. She approved billing, answered emails, took a meeting with a man who was looking for a full-time domestic for a 14,000 square foot house. He’d already been given an estimate and offered a contract by Nick but was seeing the owner, Riley, because he balked at the idea that it would require a contracted team who would be paid by the hour when additional out of contract duties came along, chores such as, “Clean up after this wedding reception held in our house and courtyard.” He could spend ten million on a house but wanted upkeep cheap. She stood firm. She let him go. He would be back.

She visited three teams on-site, found two to be managing well and one to be having some internal difficulties. It was a team of three housekeepers, two of whom had created a bond of friendship, probably behaving meanly to the third, an older woman she’d known a long time, who had been a team trainer and team leader. She’d been down this road so many times—the team leader was undeniably trustworthy with extremely high standards. The younger women wanted to get their eight hours done in six, probably cutting corners. They could take advantage of the trainer’s skills, letting her take the detail work, but apparently they were shortsighted. She could have a meeting with them, counsel them, give them pointers on working together effectively. Instead, she said, “I’ll create a new team for you, but for the rest of this week work together with no friction.”

Then she turned it over to Nick Cabrini, her director of operations, with instructions to redistribute them. All three of them. Those two snotty women who abused the older cleaner weren’t getting away with this.

The women loved Nick; her few male employees respected him. In fact, she loved Nick. He was young and personable but very rigid about their policies. He was never too harsh, that she knew of, but he was always firm. He was also bilingual. He had a good education and hoped to start a company of his own in another specialty—he wanted to get into transportation, limo and car service. But his best quality? His mother taught him to clean like a wizard. He could spot a smear or speck of dust at fifty yards.

His counterpart was Louis Spinoza, a retired firefighter who headed up their industrial restoration division. Louis had tons of hazmat experience, had worked construction on and off and, as many firefighters did, had worked a second job for years—in cleanup.

Riley grabbed a chicken salad on her way back to the office and ate it at her desk. Just when she was starting to feel that afternoon lull, who should show up but Adam. He gave a couple of raps on her door and stuck his head in.

“Is madam busy?” he asked.

She pushed her salad aside. “I’m always busy, but you’re so welcome to come in. Out of school early today?”

“Nah, I just don’t have any other duties.”

“Good, I’m dying to hear about Maddie’s driving test from an objective person. She says it took her fifteen minutes and she aced it.”

He grinned. “Twenty minutes and she missed one, but she challenged it and even showed them the page on which her answer was located. I’d have given it to her.”

“You’d give her a kidney,” she said, laughing at him.

“Well, true,” he said, sitting in the chair in front of her desk. He balanced an ankle on the opposite knee. “There is something we should talk about. I ran into Emma yesterday after the driving test. I met her later for a drink.”

Riley frowned. “Oh?” she said. “Ran into—”

“We stopped for a hamburger on the way home from the test and guess who was working there? Little paper cap, apron and all.”

“Maddie didn’t say anything...”

“She teased me a little bit on the way home. I just told her Emma was an old friend we went to school with.” He took a deep breath. “You’re going to have to tell her, Riley. You’re going to have to explain about Emma and Jock. And you.”

“Why?” she asked quickly. Defensively.

“Because it was a thing around here. I don’t know everything that went on, all I know is Jock was going steady with Emma when suddenly you were pregnant with Jock’s baby. And had a huge blowout with your best friend. A couple of families were thrown into a tailspin, all kinds of agony and grudges resulting. Riley, Maddie has a best friend. A couple of them. She needs to know what happened to you.”

“That has nothing to do with Maddie,” she said. “Maddie was born into a loving family, she knows the facts about who her father is, she spends plenty of time with him, especially when sports are involved. Maddie is secure.”

“Secure with the sanitized version of this story? First of all, someone is going to tell her someday that there was a whole lot of cheating and hard feelings going on. Probably when people who have known us almost our whole lives notice that Emma is back in town—that might bring the whole drama to mind. It’ll get so much more interesting to add that Emma left California permanently, probably at least partly because of that, and ended up married to an internationally famous con man. And second, we’ve never been that kind of family—the kind that short-sheets the truth.”

“What does it matter?” she asked in a voice that verged on desperation. “It might not have been tidy but it wasn’t complicated. Emma was gone, we were left behind, spent a lot of time together. Do I regret it? Not when I look at Maddie. But I wish Jock had been someone else’s boyfriend!”

He leaned toward her. He was patient. His handsome eyebrows tented with concern. “Riley, what you don’t want is for the question to come up. You want to make the circumstances clear to Maddie. Because of this—there were a series of unfortunate misunderstandings and events that caused some anguish, but I’d like to think things always work out in the end. I hope things can work out for Emma—she’s been through hell. I think things worked out for you. At the end of the day, things worked for me—I have a beautiful, brilliant niece. I hope Maddie has the life she wants even though she has this mixed-up family of a lot of single parents. There’s a sweet spot somewhere, Riley—that place where the good outweighs the bad. Know what I mean? That tender truth. The honest truth.”

“You don’t know what you’re suggesting...”

“You’ve become a very successful woman, Riley. You have everything to be proud of. There isn’t a single one of us who doesn’t have to own a questionable decision or two but very damn few can show how they took that one misstep and turned it into pure gold.”

“And if Maddie loses all respect for me?”

He shook his head. “Not possible. Maddie admires you more than anyone. Except maybe me,” he said, grinning. “I think I’m your biggest fan.”

She softened her expression. Adam was all goodness. All goodness wrapped up in the most beautiful package.

“What was she doing working at a fast-food restaurant?” Riley asked.

“As she tells it, it was the only job she could get. She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that she hadn’t had a job in ten years, outside of being married to a millionaire, or if it was because she was married to a notorious thief. She suspects the latter and I’m inclined to agree. People won’t take a chance on her.”

“Why would she tell anyone? She should have changed her name!”

“She goes by Emma Shay, but she’s not disguised. Employers are pretty savvy nowadays. They look up their applicants. They check Facebook and Twitter, just like you do. And she looks exactly as she did fifteen years ago.”

“Sixteen,” Riley said uncomfortably. Her fingers ran through her short, shaggy blond hair at her temples, smoothing it over her ears.

“Aw, Riley, you’ve always worn this thing like a hair shirt. We should’ve talked about this years ago but you were busy self-flagellating. Emma belonged to me and Mom, too, you know. She immediately knew who Maddie must be. Listen, even though you didn’t confide everything in me, I know the whole thing wasn’t entirely your fault. Last night I told her you and Jock weren’t even together when Maddie was born and she was surprised. Surprised and disappointed in Jock. This should’ve come out years ago, not last night. That’s how little communication she’s had with this place.”

Riley felt tears threaten to rise. “I tried to tell her—she wouldn’t speak to me. Lyle could’ve told her, but he was determined to stay out of it. Besides, she was busy, Adam. Flying all over the world in that private jet...”

“I have no doubt she’d have walked away from that had she known what was really going on there. I thought you’d be sympathetic. She was lied to. Everyone abandoned her.”

“And so now she’s been struck down again? Poor Emma, she just keeps picking the wrong guys.”

“Was that sarcasm?” he asked.

“I apologize. I’m feeling a little like a cornered animal. Oh, God, why am I apologizing to you? Emma doesn’t know I was flippant about her troubles!”

“I gave her your business card. I told her you paid more than minimum wage.”

“You can’t be serious,” she said, astonished. “She couldn’t make in a year what her fresh-flower budget was.”

“Was being the operative word. You might hear from her. She’s having a hard time getting by.”

“Lyle hasn’t said anything,” she said.

“Lyle has always been Switzerland where you two were concerned, which is why Emma knew so little about you and Jock. But get ready—one way or another, you’re going to run into her. Because I’m planning to see her again.”

“What? What’s that about?”

“If you two can’t reconcile, that’s your deal. I’m not angry with Emma or with you. And I want to see her again.”

“You act like you have a thing for her or something,” Riley said.

“I told you, she was my friend, too. I’m a little worried about her. It’s important to me to make sure she’s all right.” He stood up.

“Do you have a thing for her, Adam?” she asked directly. Her brother, so handsome, such a wonderful man, was rarely in a relationship even though women sighed as he passed. She had even once said, It’s okay if you’re gay, you know. And he had replied, And it’s okay if you are.

“You want to date her, is that it?” Riley asked.

“We had a glass of wine together,” he said. “It was good to see her. We talked a little bit about Maddie, about her return home after that sideshow back east, the difficulties of finding work. She asked about Mom, about Grandma and Grandpa. Except for Lyle and the old widow she rents from, she’s pretty much alone, but we had a nice hour or so together and I was really happy to see her again. While all that mess was going on in New York with her husband, then his suicide, I thought about her a lot. I checked in with Lyle now and then to make sure she was okay. Lyle was talking to her almost daily at the end—he was her sole emotional support. I should have called her. I think Lyle would’ve given me her number, but I didn’t ask. I decided to wait awhile, see how things shook out, then there was the suicide and feds all over her possessions. I think what she endured must have been unimaginably painful, worse than most things I can envision. You know that Emma, like you and I, was left orphaned when her dad died, except we had Mom and who did she have? Rosemary, that coldhearted bitch. So yeah, it was nice to see her, talk to her, get reacquainted. I offered her a letter of recommendation. I gave her your business card. She probably won’t ever call you or ask you for work, but I’m the one that gave her the card so don’t be surprised. And if you don’t mind me saying so—I think you owe her.”

“Oh, God, don’t lay that on me! I begged her forgiveness for Jock, which she did not give me, and I can’t even repeat the horrible names she called me. She didn’t leave here a broken woman, she—”

“Girl,” Adam said. “She was just a girl.” Then more quietly he added, “And so were you. You were girls.”

“Don’t do this, Adam. Don’t get involved with her. I bear no grudge but after what happened, please don’t bring her around. Please don’t tell me I owe her. Not now. I know things turned out badly for her but try to remember that while I was scrubbing floors and trying to hold it together to raise a baby alone, she went from sorority princess to New York socialite, and never sent a word of forgiveness to me.”

“Everything is past now,” he said. “She’s no longer a sorority princess or socialite and you’re no longer scrubbing floors and struggling to take care of your baby.”

She rubbed her temples with her fingertips and groaned. “It’s over and I don’t want it all coming back. Not now. Please, Adam.”

“You can’t erase the past any more than she can. But we can all live with it decently. If she calls you, you better do the right thing, Riley.”

He was really deep down a kind person, and since he was just a boy had felt most comfortable when the whole family was together. He didn’t like loose ends; he was a protector. He’d been like a father to Maddie since she was born. And there was no question, Riley would be lost without him.

“She will never call me,” she said.

“Don’t be too sure. It’s really time to lay this thing between you to rest.”

“I have no jobs but cleaning jobs. She’d have to get her hands dirty.”

He laughed. “You don’t think she got dirty in that New York life?” He was moving toward the door. “I’m just giving you warning.”

* * *

When they were kids, people were used to seeing them together. They were known as Beauty and Brains. They were both smart and pretty, but very different. Emma was a tall, slender brunette with rosy lips and eyes more commonly seen on a doe—large and dark. Riley was blonde, four inches shorter with a tight little body and crystalline blue eyes. Both were incredibly popular. And while they seemed inseparable, they spent time with other friends, as well. Emma was a cheerleader and participated in gymnastics; Riley was in choir, was a pom-pom girl and the star in the school musical—Grease. Emma was the homecoming queen and Riley, the valedictorian.

There was another difference between them that Riley was extremely conscious of—she was the poor one. Emma protested that her family was not rich and privileged, just that her father, being a CPA, was extremely good with money. Plus, his business certainly paid better than cleaning houses.

When they were in grade school at St. Pascal’s, Riley knew she looked shabby. By the time she was in eighth grade, thanks to a lot of babysitting and clever shopping, she was pulling herself together quite well. But Emma grew up in a five-bedroom house on a half-acre lot while Riley lived in a small, old three-bedroom, one-bath house that held five people. She and her mother shared a room. If Riley wanted Emma to spend the night, which was quite often, Adam would take the couch and say, “Only if Mom sleeps in my room because you would get into my stuff!” His stuff, as Riley recalled, wasn’t all that interesting.

Even that hadn’t driven a wedge between them. But Riley was only ten when she said, “My family isn’t always going to be poor, you wait and see.”

In all the years Riley and Emma were best friends, they had about three memorable fights. One was in seventh grade when Riley was invited to the first boy/girl party in their class and Emma was not. In fact, Emma was most deliberately excluded by some jealous girls. It was melodramatic and tragic and there were many tears. They were estranged for a long, painful month.

In their junior year Emma was asked to the prom by a senior and virtually abandoned Riley for the older crowd. She did her dress shopping with senior girls who were part of the new guy’s clique. Riley was crushed and sat home on prom night playing Scrabble with her mother and brother. And Emma’s prom night was a disaster—the guy got drunk and pressured her for sex, so she called her father for a ride home. At nine o’clock.

Both girls were miserable and sad. They sulked and avoided each other for a couple of weeks.

Then Emma’s father was killed in a car accident—a drunk driver.

Of course Riley and her whole family went to Emma at once, embracing her, propping her up. The girls made up and swore they’d never let such differences divide them again. Emma was so sorry she put such stock in those prom friends, and Riley was devastated that she’d begrudged her best friend good times and was so sorry things went so badly. They bonded over Emma’s grief. After all, Riley had lost her own father at an early age. She knew the pain of it too well.

Emma was left with that tight-ass evil grump, Rosemary, and her two nasty sisters whom she didn’t feel were her sisters at all.

Then came college. Emma got a partial scholarship; her stepmother said she would be able to help a little. She bought new clothes and excitedly prepared for a whole new life. Riley and Emma parted tearfully and for the first two weeks called each other constantly, missing each other desperately. Then Emma settled in, became busy, got a part-time job. She had awesome roommates, was pledging a sorority, she was overwhelmed by her classes, loved the many social events and the surrounding rush. Also, Emma, being a vivacious young beauty, was getting hit on by the college guys. Even older college guys. She confessed to Riley that she was doing a little harmless hanging out with guys, a little innocent dating that she didn’t want Jock to know about. Of course her secret was safe with Riley.

Getting acclimated to community college wasn’t nearly as exciting. Riley found it to be very much like high school, except they didn’t take attendance. Big whoop. It didn’t take Riley long to begin to feel lonely.

As Emma settled into campus life, making new friends and experimenting with her newfound freedom, she wasn’t in touch as much. She wasn’t picking up when Riley or Jock called; she wasn’t answering texts or returning calls right away and when she did, she didn’t have much time. She was always rushing off somewhere or it sounded like there was a party in the background. All she wanted to talk about was herself and all her cool new experiences. A week, then two, then three went by with hardly any contact and what contact they had was brief—just long enough for Emma to relate all the fun things she was doing. By early October she’d already made plans to spend Thanksgiving with one of her new classmates and her family in Astoria, Oregon, rather than coming home to Santa Rosa. “I saw pictures of her house, Riley,” Emma said excitedly. “I think they’re incredibly rich!”

“We never talk at all anymore,” Riley complained. “It’s like you’re too busy to be bothered with me.”

“No, of course not! Well, maybe we’re growing apart a little bit,” Emma said. “On account of going to different colleges. But we’ll always be best friends.”

Riley, who used to talk to her best friend every day, several times a day, was lost. Jock, not one to go long without a girl, was calling and hanging around Riley a lot. He said it made perfect sense for them to be going out. “You can’t tell me she’s not,” he said to Riley. “I’m not sitting home until Emma decides she has time for me.”

Looking back, Riley remembered she’d felt deserted. Abandoned. Was it too much to expect her best friend to talk to her every couple of days? Twice a week? For more than three minutes? And maybe ask her about herself once in a while?

She and Jock were commiserating a lot. Jock was always around, calling her, taking her out for pizza, inviting her to join him for their high school’s homecoming game and subsequent parties with old classmates. They were pals in their shared loneliness.

“Be careful of him,” Adam had said to Riley. “He’s been known to take advantage of girls.”

“We’re just friends,” she said.

But Riley was growing very fond of Jock. She looked forward to every call, every casual date. They stopped commiserating so much and started laughing and having fun. They met friends at pizza parlors and on the beach. One crisp fall night they drove over to the coast and had a few beers by a beach fire, just the two of them. It was amazing how much they had to talk about—Emma’s name never came up. Riley was astonished to find she was feeling far less abandoned.

She was falling for him.

“I think I might be way into you, too,” he said. “Damn, I never saw this coming! I’m starting to think it probably should’ve been me and you from the start.”

“We have to tell her, Jock. We have to tell Emma exactly how this happened. We couldn’t get her on the phone for five minutes, we started hanging out, we got closer—at first because we were both missing her. But then because we have something. I don’t know...chemistry?”

He laughed. “You think Emma cares? Go ahead—leave her a message. She’ll get back to you in a week or two.”

Then it went too far. Riley never meant for it to happen. At least not until she had thought it through much more carefully. Not until they came clean with Emma. She was telling herself it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to spend so much time with Jock, to kiss and fondle and whisper in the dark of night, but then things got out of control and before she knew it, her shirt was pushed up, her jeans were around her knees and they’d gone all the way. Before they’d been honest with Emma.

“Oh, God, I wanted us to tell Emma before something like that happened.”

“Baby, Emma could care less.”

“But I think I’m falling in love with my best friend’s boyfriend!”

“Whoa, whoa,” he said. “Riley, let’s just slow down here...”

“Aren’t we in love?” she asked. “All those things you were saying, that you couldn’t get through this without me and I’m the best thing that’s happened to you and you probably should’ve hit on me first...”

“Hey, shoot me for being nice, huh? Of course I care about you—who said I didn’t? That was totally up to you. You were totally into it. Just don’t say anything, all right? You don’t have to make an announcement, for God’s sake. I won’t tell her. I just don’t know if I’d call it love. Yet.”

“You have to break up with her. Tell her about us. You’re the one who started things with me, not the other way around. Aren’t you breaking up with her?” Riley asked.

“I don’t think I’m going to have to,” he said. “I think she broke up with me about three months ago. She’s partying her ass off in Seattle.”

“And there’s no grass growing under your ass, now, is there?” she threw back at him.

Four weeks later, right before Emma came home for Christmas break, she told Jock she was pregnant. She’d taken the home test and it was positive.

“You sure it’s mine?” he said. “I used a condom.”

“I haven’t been with anyone else,” she informed him hotly.

“But I don’t know that for sure, do I? Since I wasn’t with you every minute. And like I said, I had protection.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. I guess what anyone would do. You need a little money?”

She was so filled with shame, disappointment and rage she wanted to die, but she lifted her chin and said, “Go to hell, Jock.”

But really, when it happened, she had thought she loved him. And she struggled with that feeling, on and off, for a few years after that.

* * *

Adam left Riley in her office and got in his car. He thought he’d drive by his mother’s house and ask if there was anything she needed him to do, see what her plans were for the evening. He might tell her about Emma, but he hadn’t decided yet. Those dozen or so times he had gotten in touch with Emma before she got married, when she was in college and then living in New York in the city, well, he never mentioned that to his family. Or to Lyle. And it seemed as though Emma hadn’t talked about it, either. But maybe it hadn’t left that much of an impression on her.

What’s that about? Do you have a thing for her?

Oh, yeah. He had since she was about fifteen. That summer she’d gone from fourteen to fifteen—man, that was the pivotal summer in a young woman’s life—and Emma had gone from the little sister to a woman of interest.