I gorged myself on pizza and worked on Mrs. Powell's party invitations. Which, I had to admit, were pretty amazing. I'd decided to go with something new, something different. The top portion featured a woman's bright emerald eyes, a paste-on jewel between them, and covering what would have been her nose and mouth but was actually the wording was a thin, wispy pink veil.
Sometimes I amazed myself.
When that was done, I had a long chat with my inner Tigress about her too frequent disappearing acts, then threw pepperonis at the old newspaper article about Royce that I'd saved, and decided I might-would probably-was destined to-sleep with Royce again. He was right, damn him. We weren't done.
I had needs. He had needs. I'd had a taste of him, and like an addict, I wanted more. Already. He was that potent. I'd just have to fight harder to keep my emotions under control-and his emotions, as well.
I sighed.
It was time to call my mom. I'd keep it casual. See how things were going. What I really wanted to know was what Jonathan was up to. I picked up the phone and dialed.
She answered on the second ring. "Hello."
I jumped right into the conversation as if she'd said, What can I help you with, Naomi? "Tell me what Jonathan's been up to these last two days." How was that for casual?
"Darling," she said with a nervous laugh, "now isn't a good time."
"Is he in the room?"
"Well, yes."
"Move to another room or talk in code."
Pause. Several moments passed in silence. Then I heard, "Where are you going, Gloria?"
More nervous laughter. "I have to change my tampon, dear."
Dead silence. "Uh, take your time," Jonathan said.
"All right," she whispered a few seconds later. "I'm in the bathroom."
"Please tell me you weren't telling the truth. That you're only in there to talk to me privately."
"What do you think? I've already gone through menopause, silly. I doubt your stepdad will recall that fact, stupid man." With barely a breath, she continued more sternly, "Have you been screening your calls, young lady, because I've called and I've called and you haven't answered."
"Mom, concentrate. Tell me about Dr. Johnnie."
She tsk-tsked with her tongue. "Last night he came in three hours late." Her voice shook with the force of her frustration and disenchantment, and I actually thought I heard tears in the undercurrents. "He told me a client needed extra therapy. Well, obviously that client likes to rub gardenia-scented massage oil on his-"
"Information overload. Stop right there. Did you say anything to him?"
"No. I didn't know what to say. I came close to punching him in the nose, though."
"The action of a true Tigress," I said. "Why didn't you?"
"I keep thinking that I'm blowing this all out of proportion. What if he really was working late with a patient? He's not like your father. He's really not."
Had I sounded like this at one time? Had I sounded so needy and sad and hopeful? So wrong? "Don't lie to yourself." I purposely made my tone hard and unflinching. "You're a better woman than that."
"Did…did you find anything when you were here?"
I hadn't wanted to tell her anything until I had solid proof, but she needed to know something was going on, that her first instincts were correct. "I found pictures in his desk. Pictures of a woman and child."
"Oh, is that all?" My mom exhaled a deep sigh of relief.
"Is that all? Uh, hello. Can you say secret lover and illegitimate child? What do you mean, is that all?"
"I wanted to tell you about this," she hedged, "but Jonathan didn't think it would be a good idea."
My confusion soared. I gazed up at the ceiling, hoping for a little divine intervention. "Tell me what?"
"A few months ago, Jonathan learned he has a daughter and that daughter has a daughter of her own. She's been searching for him, isn't that neat? He didn't want you to think you were being replaced in his life, so we didn't mention it."
Okay, I totally hadn't expected to hear that. "That's… wonderful," I said. "I'm happy for him." And I was. Still, a hint of jealousy swept through me. Jonathan was my stepdad, but he was the only father I'd ever really accepted and I didn't like the thought of sharing him with another woman, no matter how much I hated him at the moment.
What was with my emotions lately? They were unpredictable. They were erratic. They were so damn stupid. I rubbed my temples in a vain effort to ward off the oncoming ache. "What's her name?"
"Rachel."
I cursed the name in my mind. So he had a daughter named Rachel. Fine. That explained the photos, but not the after-hour phone calls to his secretary. Not the perfume on his clothes. Not Nora's trips to Body Electric.
"I still think he's cheating on you, Mom."
"You may be right." She sighed again. "I heard him talking on the phone a little while ago and he told whoever it was that he was closing the office Friday morning. He never goes in late. He's just like you, an early bird. I think he might be spending the morning with her.'"
Friday huh. Well, I would be there, camera in hand.
"Gloria?" Jonathan's muffled voice crackled over the line. "I just realized something. You shouldn't be having a period."
"Oh, is that so?" she said with another of her nervous laughs. "Silly me. He remembered," she whispered fiercely into the phone.
"If you're bleeding, we should take you to the hospital."
"I'm not bleeding. Who said I was bleeding?"
"Then why were you wearing a tampon?"
"To, uh, double my pleasure?" To me, she whispered, "I've got to go, darling."
The line went dead just as my doorbell erupted in a series of chimes. I shook my head at the chaos that was my life and placed the phone in its receiver. I strode into the living room, trying not to think about Jonathan and his real daughter. Rachel.
"Rachel," I sneered. My nose crinkled in distaste. I was pissed enough at the man to want to use him as live bait during a shark-fishing expedition, but still… He was my dad.
After a quick peek through the peephole, I opened the door. Kera swept inside, her expression determined. She dropped her purse on the foyer table and twirled around. "You'll never guess what happened."
You made insane love with your client-several times-told him to get lost, then decided you wanted to sleep with him again? Wait. That was my news. You think your stepdad is cheating on your mom, you hate him, but you don't want him to have a daughter of his own that he might love more than you? Wait, me again. You might very well be knocked up with the aforementioned client's baby?
Damn, me again.
"What happened?" I asked her.
Smiling as if her fondest desire had just been granted, she splayed her arms wide and twirled again. "I met the man of Mel's dreams."
I blinked. "Who?"
"Colin Phillips. Mel is pretending she's not interested in him, though."
Hey, wait. "When did you two meet him? I hadn't set anything up yet."
"Friday we were bored, so we sneaked into Powell Aeronautics. We just wanted to get a look at Colin, you know, but the security guard chased us up the stairs. Thankfully, we lost the jerk and managed to get to the nineteenth floor."
Mouth agape, I threw my hands in the air. "I can't believe you guys went to Powell Aero."
"Don't worry. Colin wasn't mad."
That was the least of my worries.
"He was so sweet about the whole thing. Even thanked us for coming."
"What's the rest of the story? The part about Mel pretending she's not interested in him?"