grinned. “I’m not sure I cooked again for a week. Fortunately my husband loves to barbecue, so we didn’t starve.” She patted her left hip. “Although I could afford to lose a few pounds. With Jenna back in town I’m going to have to start going to my Weight Watchers meetings twice a week if I don’t want to blow up to something the size of a building.”
As Beth spoke, she glanced at her daughter, love obvious in her eyes.
They were a close family, Violet thought. Something she couldn’t relate to on a personal level. You can’t miss what you haven’t had, she reminded herself.
Beth moved to the rows of chairs and slipped into the back. As she sat, two other women got up and left. Violet watched them anxiously. This was worse than not having a class at all. At least then people felt free to wander around and possibly buy things. But with Jenna lecturing, they only wanted to slip out as quickly as possible.
And never come back, she added silently.
Thursday morning Jenna sat in Cianfrani’s Coffee Shop, sipping her latte as her friends chatted. Kimberly had gotten in touch with her two days ago, suggesting they all get together for coffee. Jenna had jumped at the invitation.
It was probably wrong to want to escape her business the first week it was open, but that was how she felt. So far the week had been a disaster. Sales had actually dropped, which was hard to believe. Except for her mother, everyone had walked out of her cooking class before it was over. Violet assured her things would get better, but Jenna had a feeling her lone employee was not only lying but was probably already looking for another job.
Thoughts for later, she reminded herself, turning her attention on Caitlin, who was talking about the problems her kids were having in their exclusive private school.
“One counselor talks about downtime,” she was saying. “That children need instructional play to develop an imagination. I told her that my boys had spent the previous weekend trying to wallpaper the dog and imagination was the last thing they needed to work on.” She sipped her nonfat soy drink. “Bill thinks they should learn to sail. Can you imagine? They’re six.”
“I know what you mean,” Jolene said with a throaty laugh. She had always been pretty in college and now she was beautiful, with platinum blond hair that tumbled in curly splendor halfway down her back. “If Taylor wins one more dance championship, we’ll have to buy a separate house for her trophies and ribbons. Little Amber is already singing in church. We’ve talked to a few agents and they’re talking children’s Christmas CD.”
Kimberly smiled. “Little Jonathan is still throwing shutouts in Little League. I barely see him and Eric. They’re always playing. We talked about having another one. A girl, this time, but I don’t know. My stomach is finally flat again.”
“Tell me about it,” Jolene said. “I barely get in an hour at the gym. Did I tell you I have a new trainer? He’s gorgeous. He comes to the house and even gives a postworkout massage.”
Caitlin raised her eyebrows. “Which kind?”
Jolene smiled smugly. “The good kind.”
The three women laughed together. Jenna tried to join in, but it was as if they were speaking a different language. She didn’t know their husbands or their kids. She wanted to ask if any of them worked but already knew the answer.
Kimberly smiled at her. “You’re so fortunate, Jenna. You only have to worry about yourself.”
“It’s true,” Jolene chimed in. “I’m sure the divorce was difficult, but you got half of everything, right? So you’re set.”
Half of nothing was still nothing, Jenna thought, even as she smiled and nodded. There had been a few thousand in savings. The only reason she’d had the money to open the store was because the City of Los Angeles had needed to expand a road. They’d bought up four houses, including the tiny place she and Aaron had owned. A neighbor had hired a slick lawyer who had gotten them all a tidy sum above market value.
Caitlin leaned toward her. “How was it?” she asked in a hushed tone. “The divorce. Was it awful?”
The table went silent. All three women stared at her intently, as if she’d done something extraordinary. Or terrifying.
“It wasn’t fun,” she admitted. “But we’d grown apart.” Which was better than saying being with her husband had sucked the life out of her. She’d been left with little more than a few skills she didn’t trust and a gut-wrenching fear that she was mediocre.
“Was there another woman?” Jolene asked. “Was she younger and prettier?”
“I, ah—”
“It wasn’t another man, was it?” Kimberly asked. “I heard that happens a lot in California. That would be the worst.”
“Not worse than a woman,” Caitlin told her. “At least with a man you never had a chance. With a woman, you have the same parts.”
“Being left for any reason means you’re still alone,” Jolene said, tucking a platinum blond curl behind one ear. “Do you think it’s because you didn’t have children? A child binds a man to you. At least that’s what I tell myself.”
“A child would make things worse,” Caitlin said. “Then she’d forever be tied to her ex.”
Kimberly sighed. “He left her and now she’s alone. To hell with him.” She toasted Jenna with her coffee.
Jenna felt like the ball in a tennis game, being slapped back and forth. She grabbed her coffee, sucked in a breath and prepared to lie her way to sanity.
“I left him,” she said quickly, before her blush could catch up with her. “He was holding me back. I came home because I wanted to and now I have the store. I can’t believe how great it’s doing. Speaking of which, I really have to get back to work. Violet is fabulous, but it’s my responsibility. You know how that is. Being the one who makes it happen. It was great to see you three. We’ll stay in touch, all right?”
She stood, gave a little wave, then quickly walked to her car. Once she’d backed out of the parking space, she drove to the other end of the parking lot and pulled into an empty space. Then she rested her head against the steering wheel and told herself that if she kept breathing everything would be fine. As long as she kept breathing.
Even as she drew air in and pushed it out, she felt her chest tighten and her eyes start to burn. Lying to her friends wasn’t the answer, she reminded herself. Although the truth was equally impossible. What was she supposed to say? That Aaron had left her for another woman, but that she almost didn’t care about that because the rest of it was so much worse? That she’d come home because she had nowhere else to go, and opening the store had been a stupid mistake? That would have been a conversation stopper.
And while she was being honest, Caitlin, Jolene and Kimberly weren’t friends. Not anymore. They were women she used to know and little more. They were in different places, and she was … lost.
Which meant she had to do something about her life. But what?
The question plagued Jenna through the rest of the afternoon. She let Violet go early—it wasn’t as if they had any customers—then closed right at six. After turning the lock, she walked
