Part 20 (2/2)
Ha, Claire typed back, getting into the conversation. Now you tell me!
Claire waited for a response, but Karen was gone. Undoubtedly to finish the day's chapter. Or possibly the second.
Susie's message arrived about ten minutes later. She knew this because she'd been staring at the screen watching the minutes elapse. Susie tended to lean toward positive motivation rather than tough love, and she had a penchant for inspirational quotations.
Waiting for pages to critique, Susie typed. How's it going?
I'm too busy staring at screen to write, Claire typed quickly. Hoping for inspiration.
Jack London says not to wait for inspiration. Advises you go after it with a club.
Are Jack and club available? Claire replied.
Ha!
She was considering adding an LOL, but Susie was gone almost as quickly as Karen. Undoubtedly to write a chapter that Claire would wish she'd written when she read it.
Claire groaned aloud just so she'd feel like something was happening. She emitted a primal scream, but kept it quiet so she didn't bother any neighbor who might be taking a late-afternoon nap. This thought had her eyeing her bed. Which would be the perfect place for a person who felt as slug-like as she did right now. She could just lie there for a little bit reading one of the Downton Abbey books. Surely that would inspire her.
Her cell phone rang and she practically leapt on it. ”h.e.l.lo?”
It was Brooke. ”I hope I'm not interrupting anything.”
”No,” Claire said too quickly. ”Not at all. What's going on?”
”You won't believe this,” Brooke said almost as quickly. ”Because I don't. But Zachary just showed up out of the blue an hour ago and asked if he could take the girls for the weekend. The whole weekend.”
”But why?” For the first time that day Claire's brain seemed fully engaged.
”I don't know. But he was apologizing all over himself for s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up and forgetting to pick them up on Wednesday. He claimed he wanted to make it up to them. And me. I think they're going up to the mountains.”
”Seriously?” Claire asked.
”Yes. And then he told me to be sure to let my friend Samantha know. Probably still trying to kiss her a.s.s. But it's weird, huh?”
”It is, but in a good way.”
”So, all the sudden I have all this free time,” Brooke continued. ”And I'm kind of going through Downton Abbey withdrawal.”
Claire laughed, her mood lifting. ”I know what you mean.”
”So I was thinking it might be fun to borrow the season one video from Edward and maybe order pizza for dinner.” There was a pause. ”Unless you're going out. Or really busy working. I mean I know this is last minute and everything.”
Claire was almost embarra.s.sed by how wonderful this sounded and how eager she was to have a reason to stop pretending to work. Pretending to work was even more exhausting than the real thing. ”I'm in,” she said. ”And I've got a bottle of white wine I can bring. Did you call Samantha?”
”Gosh, no,” Brooke said. ”I mean it's Sat.u.r.day. I figured she and her husband probably had plans.”
This, of course, was what single women always a.s.sumed about married ones, but that didn't make it true. ”They might,” Claire agreed. ”But let's at least invite her. I can call if you want while you get the video.”
They worked out the details and agreed to five thirty at Brooke's. Claire jumped up from the computer with a new sense of purpose. Picking up the phone, she dialed Samantha Davis's number and put a second bottle of wine in the refrigerator to chill.
SAMANTHA COULDN'T BELIEVE HOW GRATEFUL SHE was to get Claire Walker's call. No, not grateful. Even thinking the word made her stomach knot up. Glad was better. She was glad and relieved to have something to do instead of sitting in her apartment worrying about why she hadn't yet heard from Jonathan. Last time she'd had a weekend to herself she'd reveled in the experience. This time she felt abandoned and frightened. A good dose of Downton Abbey and lady friends might never appear on a prescription, but at the moment it felt like just what the doctor ordered.
She raided the wine supply for two nice bottles of red and pulled a bakery box of Giancarlo's chocolate chip cannolis from the freezer. Ten minutes later she was standing in front of Brooke's door, a bottle of wine tucked under each armpit and the bakery box in her hands. She had to poke her elbow into the doorbell to ring it.
”Hi. Can you take the box?” Samantha said when Brooke opened the door. ”I think one of the bottles may be starting to slip.”
”Oh, my gos.h.!.+” Brooke took the box while Samantha clamped her arms more tightly against her sides.
”I'm not sure direct body heat does good things for a wine, but I never can seem to find those carriers I know we have somewhere,” Samantha said.
”It won't bother me,” Brooke said. ”Zachary spent long amounts of time reading and discussing wine with anyone who would hold still long enough. But I'm not a picky drinker. Or eater, for that matter.”
”Ditto,” Samantha said when they reached the kitchen.
”I'm glad to hear it because I ordered an extra-large pizza. I think it's called everything but the kitchen sink.” Brooke smiled.
The doorbell rang and Brooke went to let Claire in. Samantha opened a bottle of the red and looked around the kitchen, which was all sharp angles and s.h.i.+ny surfaces. The appliances were top-of-the-line and custom fitted. The s.p.a.ce was expertly done, but it wasn't at all what Samantha would have expected from a woman who exuded such a st.u.r.dy earthiness.
”Hey.” Claire set two bottles of white wine next to the reds. ”I see great minds think alike. At least we won't have to make a liquor run.”
”Well, if we do it's only a matter of floors,” Samantha said. ”Jonathan has a wine closet outfitted with a backup generator.” The minute she brought up his name, she regretted it. Even thinking of Jonathan caused the strangest twinge in her chest. She turned as if considering the kitchen for the first time. ”This is really state-of-the-art,” she said motioning to the Sub-Zero refrigerator and Wolf ovens. ”Do you like to cook?” Samantha's thoughts turned to all the meals she'd pretended to cook for Jonathan over the years and she felt a stab of regret that she'd never really learned.
Brooke's nose wrinkled. ”Not really. I mean I put food on the table on a regular basis, but this is not the kitchen I would have chosen to do it in. Zach hired an interior designer to do the whole apartment. He wanted the best of everything and he got it. But none of it is exactly kid a or user-friendly.” She hesitated briefly. ”I was in Bruce Dalton's kitchen yesterday-he's asked me to help Marissa do over her bedroom. Now that's a kitchen meant for a family to live in. And he cooks. He invited the girls and me over for dinner next Sat.u.r.day.” She blushed with what looked like pleasure.
”Grab him,” Claire said. ”I'd be all over a man who can cook.”
”I think the women in his neighborhood are already all over him. They keep bringing him food. And they don't wear a lot of clothes when they deliver it.”
”Well, he invited you for dinner,” Samantha said.
”I think a man cooking is s.e.xy,” Claire said. ”Who needs Fifty Shades of Grey? Give me a guy in a chef's toque any day. Add some vacuuming and dusting and it's downright o.r.g.a.s.mic.”
Samantha laughed while Claire began to open the wine. Brooke pulled winegla.s.ses out of the cupboard.
”Did you know that Zach took the girls for the whole weekend?” Brooke asked Samantha.
”No.”
”And he wanted me to make sure you knew it.” Brooke was watching Samantha's face.
”Really?” Samantha asked casually.
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