Love struck, p.16
Love Struck, page 16
“So have they seen each other, then?”
I told her I didn’t think so, except for the baseball game.
“Why didn’t you go to the game if you knew she’d be there?”
“Because Sienna knew me as Uhma,” I said, as though it were obvious. “Besides I hate baseball, you know that.”
“But you love Parker.”
I nodded and tugged on my hair. “Of course. That’s why I’m doing all this. Obviously.”
Elin shook her head, but didn’t say anything.
“It’s what you told me to do.”
Elin stared at me, aghast. “I told you to do this?”
“On the phone. When I wasn’t sure what to do.” We turned the corner onto Baldwin.
Elin grabbed my arm. “I most certainly did not tell you to do this.”
Just then I heard my name and looked across the street to see Colin waving at us from the front steps of his building.
Elin followed my gaze. “What the. . . ? Oh my God. Is that Diesel Cartwright?”
I nodded. “I probably should’ve told you about that part.”
Colin jogged across the street. He was wearing frayed jeans, a retro tee and flip-flops. When he reached us, he immediately bent down to give Ralph a hug. When he stood up, he pulled me in for a hug, then eyed Elin.
“Colin, this is my friend Elin. I’m not sure if you remember her?”
He nodded slowly. “Nice to see you.” He stuck out his hand but Elin pretended hers were encumbered by Augusten and her diaper bag.
“Hmmm,” she said coldly, then turned away and started bouncing Augusten in the BabyBjörn on her chest.
“So did everything go well with Ralph?”
“Too well,” I said.
“Good to hear. And thanks again. I can’t really believe you just volunteered to take care of him,” he said. “You’re some girl,” he added with a knowing smile.
“She sure is,” Elin said sarcastically, turning around and raising her eyebrows at me. I gave her a dirty look before she turned her back on us again.
“So you didn’t tell me,” I said, knowing what I was about to say was only going to get me into more trouble with Elin than I was already in. “How did it go with Sienna?” I mentally crossed my fingers, willing him to say they’d hit it off so well he’d taken Sienna with him to Whistler.
“It was . . . interesting,” he said slowly, then looked to Elin and back at me with wide eyes, as though he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure he should.
“Interesting?” I prodded. There was nothing he couldn’t say, at this point, in front of Elin.
“Not really my type. Nice girl, but not who I’m looking for.”
“Really . . .” I said, deflated. “Did you notice any similarities between us?” I said, as Elin pointedly jabbed me as if to say, Seriously?
Colin considered my question for a moment then shook his head. “Not really. Actually, not at all.”
Not at all?
“But I certainly learned a few things that I think you’d be interested in knowing . . . We should talk. Do you have time for a drink or do you two have plans together?” Colin asked. I started to answer no, but as though she didn’t trust me to make the right decision, Elin cut in.
“No. I’ve got a baby on my boob that needs to be breastfed, like, now, and I came into the city especially to see Poppy. We have plans.” The breastfeeding part was a total lie. Elin had stopped breastfeeding when the triplets were three months old, once she realized she was essentially a trough on two feet. And I totally owed her more than a drink.
Colin looked taken aback. “Okay, sure. Well maybe another time, Poppy? I actually have something I wanted to talk to you about.”
He did? I wondered. “Sure.”
Colin handed me the bag in his right hand. “I brought you a little something from Whistler. We were filming a little chocolate shop that makes chocolates to look like celebrities. I got one made to look like you.”
I pulled the box out of the bag and looked at the chocolate through the clear plastic top. “Wow. Thanks.” The chocolate was impressive, but it didn’t look a thing like me. And then I realized, it really did look like the new me.
Elin stared at us, agape. “We have to go.”
“This is so nice of you,” I said, genuinely shocked, as Elin grabbed my arm and began pulling me across the street. I called out an apology to Colin, who looked confused but gave me a smile and a half wave.
“That was so rude,” I hissed to Elin once we’d crossed the street.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” she said. “Are you seeing him?”
“No!” I said, shocked. “Of course not. I just . . . ran into him. And he had a dog and I needed a dog—”
“You needed a dog?”
“Because Parker wants to have a baby.”
“Just stop right there. This is too much.” She pulled me into a sidewalk patio of a café on College, sat me down at a table, then pulled a bottle out of her bag and gave it to Augusten. A waiter, about twenty, with shoulder-length hair pulled back in a ponytail, shuffled over, slapped two menus on the table and stuck his hands in the front of his half apron.
“We’ll have two glasses of your most inexpensive red. Actually, we’ll take a bottle.” The waiter snapped his fingers, gave us two thumbs up and shuffled away.
Elin turned to me. “Do you want to save your marriage?” she asked me, quite seriously.
I looked at her, wide-eyed, then gestured to myself. “Would I have turned into some sort of Vegas drag queen Cher if I didn’t?”
“I just want to be sure this is what you want to do.”
“I’m sure.”
“And you don’t want to just kick him out of the house for good?”
I shrugged. “Not yet. I don’t want to fail. I don’t . . . I don’t want to lose him.”
“Then changing yourself into someone you’re not is not the way to get him back.”
“It’s not?” I was doubtful, and frankly skeptical of Elin’s motives.
Elin shook her head firmly. “No. Besides, no offence, but you don’t look anything like her,” Elin said, turning her attention back to the thumbnail of Sienna on my BlackBerry, which she was still holding. Even in two-inch diameter, she was gorgeous. And I just looked like a mess.
“But I can try harder. Surely there are other things I can do. I’ve only just hit the tip of the makeover iceberg, or however the saying goes. I could still get my lips plumped or get breast implants . . .” I made a face and shook my head. “But I really don’t want to do either of those things. I still haven’t perfected my wardrobe, but I’m sort of losing steam. I think the real problem is I don’t really want to look like Sienna. I think she looks like a slut. I want to look like me. But I guess Parker doesn’t want that.” I shrugged. “Anyway, marriage is all about compromises, right?”
Elin nodded slowly. “It is, but you’re being crazy. Even in a best case of worst-case scenarios, all you’ll end up doing is reminding Parker of her. Is that what you want?”
“Of course it isn’t what I want! I just . . . Oh my God. You’re right. You’re totally right. But if I don’t transform myself to look like her, then what do I do?”
“Come up with a new plan.”
“But what?”
“What you need to do is eliminate her.”
I looked at her, eyes wide. “Like, kill her? Oh no. I’m not about to re-enact an Amy Fisher TV movie-of-the-week and go to jail to save my marriage. I already ruled that out weeks ago. I mean, what would become of me? Cafeteria dinners with mashed potatoes from a box? Conjugal visits? A jail birth like Leighton Meester from Gossip Girl? Sure, she turned out to be all famous and fabulous, but what if my own child didn’t fare so well? Which is totally irrelevant anyway because I am never having kids. And anyway, isn’t the statistic that something like two-thirds of couples stop having sex after becoming parents because they have no time? Not that we’re having sex right now anyway, but that’s different because (a) I’m punishing Parker for having sex with Sienna and (b) I just . . . well, I just can’t.”
“Poppy, you’re babbling. And being ridiculous. No one is killing anyone.”
“Oh, well okay.” I should’ve known I would never have a best friend who would convince me to commit a felony. “Don’t you see though—that’s why I set Sienna up with Colin. To preoccupy her and get her out of the picture.”
Elin made a face. “Really? That was your plan?”
I shrugged. “Okay, so what’s your plan?”
“You’re going to focus on you and Parker. Do things together. Rebuild your marriage.”
I had to admit, it sounded like a good idea. And it would be fairly easy—at least, much easier than getting claw-like nails and hair extensions and an orange tan.
“But where does Operation Eliminate Sienna come into it then?”
“You’re going to eliminate her from your mind.”
“Really? That’s the plan? It sounds like something Dr. Phil would spout.”
“It’s time to get real,” Elin said, and I knew that was something Dr. Phil would say.
The waiter returned with our bottle of wine and two glasses.
“What happened has nothing to do with Sienna,” she said to me while tasting the wine, then nodding at the waiter.
“It has everything to do with Sienna. If there were no Sienna there would’ve been no affair.”
“If there was no Sienna, there would’ve been an Ashley or a Jessica or a Melody . . .”
“Are you naming Pussycat Dolls?”
“I’m making a point.”
I took a sip of my wine and thought about what Elin was saying. Was she right? Did this really have nothing to do with Sienna at all? I wasn’t willing to go that far—I didn’t doubt Sienna’s powers of persuasion—but I was willing to agree that this whole debacle had more to do with Parker and me than I was admitting.
“I wish we’d had this conversation weeks ago.”
Elin tapped at one of my two remaining red nails. “Me too. I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be silly. I did this to myself. I could’ve told you I was doing this. But maybe subconsciously I knew you’d tell me I was being crazy.”
“Well, it’s not too late now. It’s just time to get real.”
“Okay, but can we not quote Dr. Phil?”
I told Elin all about my makeover disasters and the dog fiasco while we ordered a round of appetizers to share, and then we spent the rest of the evening talking about Terrence and the triplets while I held Augusten, who’d finally woken up. Or maybe he’d just been faking it to miss out on all the girl drama.
“You’re good with him,” Elin said.
I made a face. “He’s so easy. And holding him doesn’t mean I’d make a good mom.”
“Maybe not. But you’re not a monster. Otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you to be his godmother.”
I stared at Augusten, wondering whether I really could be a mom. But I decided not to get ahead of myself. One step at a time.
~
When Elin and I got home, Parker and Terrence were on the couch, watching Hugh Jackman as Wolverine on the TV. Parker turned it off when Elin pointedly announced to Terrence that she was ready to go home. “Apparently, I’m driving,” she said, eying the lineup of beer cans on the coffee table. Parker rarely drank beer—and certainly not from a can. She grabbed the bag that held Chocolate Poppy from my hand and shoved it into her diaper bag.
Parker didn’t make eye contact with me, but said goodnight to our friends and then went to the bedroom. I briefly considered getting a blanket from the cupboard and sleeping on the couch but remembered Elin’s advice. I had to make this work. And neither Parker nor I had ever slept on the couch. It wouldn’t be a good idea to start now.
Parker was already asleep—or pretending to be—by the time I brushed my teeth and got into bed. I faced the opposite wall, and tried to fall asleep. But all I could think of was what a mess I’d made of everything. I knew I had to change things, but I wasn’t sure where to start.
I couldn’t sleep.
“I’m sorry about Lauren,” I said finally.
Parker sighed. Clearly he couldn’t sleep either. “Me too. It didn’t seem like you really wanted to fight for him.”
“I just—maybe you were right. Maybe we needed to talk about these sorts of decisions before actually making a move. I should’ve asked you about getting a dog first. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.”
Parker sighed. “Maybe we can get a dog once we move to the country. Have a fresh start. Get a puppy that’s all ours.”
“What?” I flipped over to face him, but he was still facing the other wall.
“I thought you agreed that we should move. And why put it off any longer?”
“But Toronto is convenient. You love living in the city,” I said. I knew I was being argumentative, but when I made a pact with Elin to try harder, I didn’t expect that it would start with a conversation about relocation that very evening. “Besides, you’ve never wanted to go visit Terrence and Elin before and you complain every time I drag you to visit my parents.”
He turned to face me. “I only complained about going to your parents because they still have dialup—and it barely works. I couldn’t get any work done. But now that I’m not tied to my job, I’d be happy to go there. And I never said I only loved the city. I liked being close to work, but now that I’m home, that’s not an issue. And you could find clients anywhere—they don’t have to be downtown. You probably wouldn’t even have any competition. There’s money in the country, you know.”
There are mice in the country, I thought.
“And we could have a house with several rooms and you could have a real office and an actual walk-in closet.”
He was officially playing dirty.
“And if we wanted to come in to the city, it would be special. Like a date to a concert or out for dinner.”
Special? I didn’t want special. I didn’t want to be a tourist in my own city. And I didn’t want to live in the country, even if a walk-in closet and my own office sounded incredibly tempting. I wanted to live right here, in our condo. And I didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
I kissed him on the cheek, said goodnight and flipped over onto my side. I was hoping that it was the beer talking.
~
Clearly it wasn’t the beer talking because on Saturday morning Parker was still thinking about the country. And even though I wanted to give him a list of reasons why we couldn’t move to the country, I knew I couldn’t. Because I’d made a promise to Elin that I would try. And even if she wasn’t checking in (which she already was), I would stick to my promise. Besides, Parker kept mentioning all these incredibly tempting aspects of living in the country, like having an indoor and an outdoor hot tub. A fireplace. A spare bedroom so that Elin could spend the night if she wanted to (though I couldn’t imagine that actually happening before the triplets were old enough to stay home alone). Still, it was a nice thought.
I also realized that if we did move to the country we’d be even farther away from Sienna, which meant I’d really never have to worry about Parker bumping into her ever again. And that would definitely help in Operation Elimination.
“And I guess it wouldn’t be as though he’d find anyone at the grocery store attractive, right?” I whispered to Elin when she called to find out how things were going with the new plan. I’d already scrubbed off most of the fake tan, given the cycling shorts to Goodwill and given myself a manicure—on my own nails. “Don’t all the women wear their robes and rollers while pushing multi-seat strollers filled with screaming kids?”
“I don’t live in an episode of Green Acres,” Elin said. “Women wear their Tiffany pearls to do the grocery shopping.”
“Oh.” That didn’t sound good at all. Maybe I’d have to do the grocery shopping then, just to be safe. But how was I going to do the grocery shopping when I would have to commute for hours into downtown Toronto every day? And why was I even trying to figure out the logistics? I wasn’t moving to the country.
“Elin says that all the women wear Tiffany pearls to do their grocery shopping,” I told Parker once he was back in bed, resuming our Saturday morning ritual. It was actually becoming something I looked forward to, and would’ve been relaxing if I wasn’t so stressed out about the idea that we were suddenly going to be moving to the country.
“Tiffany pearls?” He eyed me doubtfully.
“It’s true.” There was no way he was going to buy me Tiffany anything on his fixed income, let alone just so that I could pick up some cans of vegetables and OJ from concentrate. Which meant one thing: we’d have to stay in the city.
“That’s ridiculous,” he said, folding the newspaper and picking up a book on his nightstand. I glanced at the cover: Save Your Money: How to Live for Free.
I wondered if it explained how to get Tiffany pearls for free.
“Well, you wouldn’t want us to be social outcasts in the country, would you?” I continued.
He turned to look at me, studying my face. “No, Poppy. I wouldn’t want us to be social outcasts. I’d do the grocery shopping then. I wouldn’t mind.” He turned back to his book.
But he was supposed to mind. I sighed dramatically, flopped back on my pillow and banged my head on the wrought iron headboard.
This wasn’t going very well.
I was supposed to be trying, but I wasn’t trying very hard at all. I just didn’t think this was fair. Sure, I was supposed to be trying to be more loving, more attentive, but did I have to move to the country to do so when I really, really didn’t want to?
Maybe there was something else I could do.
