“Latham,” he and I said in unison.
“I’m sure Alan won’t mind either.”
Shit. How’d I forget about Alan?
“Your boyfriend?” Latham ventured, looking at Mom.
“Jacqueline’s husband,” she answered, primly.
“Ex-husband. He was good enough to accompany Mom into town.”
“He’s helping me with the transition. Wonderful man.”
“Transition?” Latham raised an eyebrow at me. I felt like going back to my bedroom and hiding under a pillow.
“Mom has decided to move in with me after all.”
Latham, to his credit, barely flinched. I held his hand, gave it a hard squeeze that I hope conveyed everything I was feeling.
He didn’t squeeze back.
“Well, that’s wonderful. Jack has wanted that for a long time. She speaks the world of you.”
“How sweet. It’s a shame she never mentioned you.”
I gave Latham another hard squeeze, and then released him to escort my mother before this got worse.
“Excuse us just a moment, Latham. Girl talk.”
I steered Mom into the bedroom and shut the door.
“What is it, Jacqueline?”
“Cut the BS, Mom. You’re acting horrible.”
“Horrible? How?”
I raised an index finger, in scolding mode.
“I’m serious. I happen to love this guy. If you keep-”
“You love him? You never told me you loved him.”
“I never had the chance, Mom. You only started taking my calls recently, and then the conversation has mostly been about you.”
I regretted it as soon as I said it, and my mother’s reaction held no surprises. She seemed to grow smaller before my very eyes.
“You don’t want me here, do you?”
“Mom…”
“I would have never chosen to come up here if I’d known you were in love with this man. Has he asked you to move in with him?”
“Mom, we can talk about all of this later.”
“If you love him, why did you kiss Alan this morning?”
It just kept getting better.
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I was faking.”
“That was a mistake. Mom, look, I’ve had a terrible day, I just want to get dressed and go out to eat. Can you please,
“I’ll do my best, dear. I’m suddenly not up for conversation.”
I bit my lower lip, wondering how this could possibly get any worse.
Then I heard the front door open.
“Mary? I’ve got the plant.”
Alan. I hurried over, preparing myself for damage control. Latham eyed me as I walked up.
“I should have called.”
“I should have told you. We’ll get through this. Be brave.” I pecked him on the cheek, but he didn’t offer me anything in the way of nonverbal encouragement.
Alan had a large floor plant in his hands, something with long green pointy fronds. He set it down, smiled at me, then noticed Latham and the smile vanished.
“I didn’t mean to barge in.”
“Alan, this is Latham Conger, my boyfriend. Latham, this is Alan Daniels, my ex-husband.”
Neither moved to shake hands, and I watched them size each other up. If they’d been dogs, I would have expected each of them to lift a leg and start marking territory.
“Hello, Alan! What a lovely fern!” Mom made a show of limping up to him and kissing him.
I glanced at Latham. He was staring at his watch.
“So.” I clapped my hands together and put on a big fake smile. “Who’s up for pizza?”
CHAPTER 28
The two slices of pizza I managed to choke down sat like rocks in my stomach. Neither Latham nor Alan had said more than ten words during dinner, having expended most of their energy trying to ignore each other.
That left my mother to dominate the conversation, and she was on her third drink, inhibitions falling away by the sip. She hadn’t mentioned the kiss yet, but it was only a matter of time.
“Spicy.” Mom smacked her lips. “When you get older, your tastebuds – well – don’t taste. But a good bloody Mary with a healthy dose of hot sauce makes this tired old tongue dance a jitterbug. Plus it’s so much fun to order a drink with my name in it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s a hoot.”
“Are you in town long, Alan?” Latham asked.
“I’m here until Mary settles in.”
“So that’s how long? A week? Two?”
“As long as it takes.”
Latham played with his drink straw, spearing at the ice.
“Don’t you have a job you need to get back to?”
Alan folded his arms – one of his defense postures.
“I’m a freelance writer. I’m not tied to an office job, stuck in that nine-to-five rut, making my employer rich from my efforts. But I’m sure it’s not like that at all in the accounting world.”
“I don’t mind nine-to-five. It pays the bills.”
“Boring, though, isn’t it? Jack usually falls for creative types.”
“Maybe she realized how badly that’s worked for her in the past, and decided she needed a change.”
I raised my hand. “Does anyone want to hear about my day? The crazy guy I put behind bars threatened to kill me.”
I’d intended to provoke sympathy, but Latham took that as a cue to assert dominance. He put his arm around me, like we were drinking buddies.
“Stay at my place tonight, Jack.”
“Jack doesn’t look too thrilled there, Latham. Maybe you’ve begun to bore her already.”
“Why don’t you go run home and write about it?”
“Okay, guys. Enough.” I pulled away from Latham and stood up. “You’re all acting like jerks.” I glanced at my mom, to let her know I included her in the statement.
“I’ll drive you home.” Latham stood up. So did Alan.
“I’ll drive myself home.” I dug into my pocket, threw some bills on the table. Both Alan and Latham fell all over themselves, trying to give me my money back. I left them there, heading for the front door, stepping out into the cold Chicago night air.
Home wasn’t an option. I needed time to think. A Checker cab was at the stoplight, and I yelled to it and climbed in.
“Where you headed?”
Good question. After tonight, I was willing to swear off men forever. Parents too. And police work. Where was I headed? Unemployed orphan spinsterhood.
I settled for Joe’s Pool Hall.
The cab spit me out in front, and I beelined to the bar, ordered a whiskey sour, and scoped the action.
As usual, Joe’s had enough secondhand smoke swirling around to cause cancer in laboratory animals. All twelve tables were in use, but I gave up being shy for my fortieth birthday, and got on the board for pickup games.
Four beers and two hours later, I’d done considerable damage to both my liver and the competition. Pool offered a refuge from my problems, and sinking ball after ball put me into an almost zenlike state. I’d forgotten all about Alan, Latham, Mom, Fuller, Herb, my job, my apartment, my insomnia, my life.
Then the balance shifted. The alcohol that had once calmed my nerves, now made me sloppy. I lost three games in a row, and decided to call it quits.
The night had gotten colder, and my jacket wasn’t enough to keep the chill out.
Mom snored on the couch. My machine had eight messages on it, but I didn’t feel up to dealing with them. I got undressed, curled up fetal on my bed, took my nightly sleeping pill, and cried softly to myself until it kicked in and ushered me into a blessedly dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER 29
They were torturing me with a horrible beeping sound, playing it over and over until it drove me to the brink of madness, and I couldn’t get away and I couldn’t make it stop, and finally something registered in my head and I opened my eyes and glanced groggily at my alarm clock.
