“Good idea.” He turned back to the mirror. “I don’t think Ginger Flower’s my color. Maybe they have black. I could deal with black lipstick.”
If Patrick were here, he would be freaking out, but was it so different from the eighties, after all? I’d been a Duran Duran fan. Those boys knew their way around a makeup palette.
“Black might be a little harsh with your fair coloring.” I’d pictured having this conversation with my daughter in a few years, but never with my preteen son. Fortunately, Spencer tired easily of trends. He would be done with the Goth makeup and on to the next big thing in a matter of weeks, maybe days depending on the reactions of other kids at school. “We’ll run out tomorrow and try a few on. For now, I really need a nice long bath. Scoot. And make sure the dogs get out for a walk.”
Once Spencer shut the door behind him, I stripped. I needed a long bath to think about how I was going to pay for lipstick among other necessities like food, gas, and Miss Clairol Strawberry Sunset number 116. My roots were beginning to show.
It was time to face the cold, hard facts. I needed to get a job.
The phone rang as I was about to sink chin-deep into bubbles.
A glance at the caller ID told me it was Kate. I dried my hands and picked up. The sound of Ellie crying in the background told me why she was calling before she even said a word.
“I think she may be teething,” I offered. “Her gums felt hard in the car tonight.”
“Plus, she’s drooling all over the place. And the crying.” Kate’s voice broke off in a groan. “But isn’t she a little young for teething?”
“A little, yeah, but they all go at their own pace. Spencer and Sarah were both late bloomers, but Ellie has her own style.” If she was anything like her mother. “Where is she now?
“I put her in her crib for a few minutes. I need to know what to do, Ben. You’re the expert.”
I smiled. You’re the expert. This was a big admission from the perfect sister. I inhaled deeply of my favorite almond coconut bath bomb from Basic as I took a minute to appreciate the comment. Kate had always been the overachiever, the smart one. I was the “pretty” one. Finally, there was an area in which she could recognize my superiority in something more substantial than hair and makeup.
“Frozen bagels,” I said, after a minute. “The topical ointments never seemed to do much for the kids, but giving them something substantial to gnaw really helped.”
“Frozen bagels? What if she bites off a piece and chokes?”
“With swollen gums? Yeah, that’s going to happen. Look, I got it from T. Berry Brazelton. He knows his stuff. It worked for Spence and Sarah. If that makes you nervous, you could try a frozen washcloth.”
“Okay.” Kate sounded a little nervous. “I’ll go try that.”
“Call later if you need more help. You two can always come and sleep over here.”
Just after Ellie was born, Kate spent the night quite frequently. Kate’s house was only a few miles away and nothing rendered her near helpless quite as effectively as her own screaming child. With me, the expert, close at hand, she never really had to go it alone for long. Fortunately, Kate kept her own hours at the office and she was often able to return the favor and pick my kids up from school in the event that my Pilates class should go long or, more often, I decided to stop and pick up a new outfit on the way home.
I clicked the phone off and dropped it on the towel at the edge of the tub. As good as it was to have a sister to share in the parenting, she was not a substitute for a real partner. I slid down into the bath, felt the silken water smooth across my thighs, and ached for my missing husband, my dear departed Patrick.
I remembered the way he used to come home late from work sometimes to catch me just slipping into the bath. He would stand just there, across the room in the doorway, with a smile of appreciation crossing his lips, making the freckles dance across his crinkled nose. God, I missed those freckles.
More than just missing my husband, my best friend, I missed being loved. I missed being kissed in a way that made a tingle go right down my spine. I missed feeling like a woman. I was almost thirty-three years old, for goodness’ sake, and the mother of two. I loved my kids, but would they be my entire life now? Was I ever going to have something for me, just for me, ever again?
The mere idea of dating made my palms sweat. I wouldn’t mind a little romantic attention, but how to meet suitable men? I wasn’t about to go looking for love in singles bars or matchmaking Web sites. Colin Firth as Fitzwilliam Darcy wasn’t about to trot his white horse down my path. Maybe a job would be good for me, more than just a way to fund my shopping habit. Maybe I would actually find something I liked, something to fill the void. But what on earth would I possibly be good at?
Before I got out of the bath, I heard my sister’s car pull into the drive, followed by the sounds of Ellie’s cries getting louder all the way up the walk. Good thing I’d anticipated their arrival before Kate had even called. My freezer was fully stocked with washcloths.
Chapter Two
The next morning, Kate came down to breakfast wearing a relaxed smile. I’d stayed up with Ellie so that she could get some sleep. It wasn’t much of a hardship. I was wide awake worried about my Lexus, my son in lipstick, and my employment possibilities.
According to Kate, her daughter always rose with the first rays of the sun, a fact she attributed to her being named Eliana, Greek for “daughter of the sun.” Considering that Ellie was also up for hours after sunset, I wasn’t convinced that the name had relevance, but it hardly mattered. I was a morning person, too.
I had coffee brewing, my pugs, Bert and Ernie, out in the fenced yard for their morning business, and Ellie fed by the time Kate found her way downstairs. She was in a good mood, or so it looked, and all the better for me. I needed her help, not her scorn.
“I paid your car bill last night while you were rocking Ellie. Three months behind. I set your account to pay it automatically. After I made a deposit, of course. You were overdrawn.” She said it with a smile, as if this bit of news had no impact on her good mood.
“Hmm. I wonder how that happened.” I shook a toy in front of Ellie in her baby Exersaucer. Ellie’s brown eyes shone like little suns. Maybe there was something to her name, after all.
“Probably the three-hundred-dollar blouse from Neiman Marcus,” she said, a trace of sarcasm sucking the cheery out of her tone.
“Was it that much? I guess I didn’t look at the price tag.” I stifled a sigh of relief that last night’s boot purchase hadn’t shown up yet. “I’ll have to be more careful.”
“You think?”
“Christmas shopping.” I sighed and worked up a good pout. “I bought it for you, but I guess the surprise is ruined.”
I peeked from beneath my lashes to see if she believed me, but I wasn’t so sure. I wouldn’t believe me. I had no idea my shopping habit had gotten so out of hand. It was time to stop using the excuse of retail therapy as a form of grief counseling.
“No problem.” She poured coffee. Casual. Avoiding eye contact. She didn’t believe me. “Take it back. You know I don’t need fancy presents.”
I nodded, but I’d already brought it to the dry cleaner to remove a small stain on the cuff. Kate set down her coffee and leaned over to say hello to her daughter, lifting her from the seat to cuddle.
“She’s had