Calm, Cool, and Adjusted (25 page)

“Max was worth marrying for the house alone. Except for this cranky, old woman who lives downstairs.” Lilly laughs at the mention of her Nana, who is not the sweet, baking-cookies sort.

She waddles her pregnant self into the step-up kitchen. She’s still as thin as ever, and doesn’t look pregnant from the back, but she’s not used to any weight and has to maneuver herself around. She’s clearly a bit off balance and grabs the counter to steady her gait.

“I brought my chiropractic table if you want me to do an adjustment tonight.” I worry she’s going to turn around and yell, but she softens her expression.

“I love our parties. We’re such incredible nerds. That would be great, Poppy. Can you tell my back hurts? This kid is making himself right at home. I wonder if he’ll ever move out. He’s got it pretty good in there.” Lilly pats her stomach.

I hadn’t even thought about Lilly being pregnant and the wine.
Sigh.
I can’t even be mainstreamed correctly. It takes all my willpower to not destroy the bottle right in front of her.

She opens her Wolf stove to allow the steam from her lasagna to flow through the room. Lilly’s lasagna is 99.9 percent fat—there’s usually a thin layer of grease-saturated spinach leaf to account for the other 0.1 percent. She uses a turkey baster to skim the oils off it when she’s done, and I’ll admit, the scent of its sausage makes me want to hurl. I just can’t eat this richly. Pavarotti can’t eat this richly.

“Don’t worry,” Lilly says, noting my horrified expression. “I made you a vegetarian version with low-fat cheese. It looks and smells disgusting, but you’ll eat it, right?”

“I’ll eat it, thanks, Lilly.” Trust Lilly to think of my well-being.

The doorbell rings and Morgan arrives looking like one of those elegant mothers I see in the Silicon Valley. The kind who spend their days dressed in pressed slacks and full makeup, wondering how children can be such dirty creatures. Morgan doesn’t think this way, naturally, and for all I know, maybe the mothers at home don’t either. But she’s carrying little Georgie, who’s about five, and he’s nuzzled into her neck like he should have been there all along. His almond-shaped eyes take in everyone in the room, and he gives an infectious smile.

George, Morgan’s fiancé, is a top tax attorney in San Francisco. Morgan’s father had him fired from his former firm, but he was quickly reinstated when Morgan’s father went to prison. George is wearing the standard tax attorney uniform—a navy blue suit with a red power tie—and he watches over Morgan as if she’s a tender butterfly taking off for the world. “Are you warm enough, Morgan? Do you need a sweater?”

She shakes her head and drops the Louis Vuitton bag full of videos and kid items on the travertine floor. “Georgie . . . Poppy’s here,” she whispers.

Georgie has a thing for me. I think he likes the red hair, but our energy is great together, and he reaches out his arms and transfers himself onto my hip with another wide grin. He’s just pure love, this little one. I’d take him in a second. Morgan has been taking care of Georgie during the day while George works, and when she isn’t on call for her part-time protocol position, which is really more about society than an actual political position. George and Poppy’s marriage and living under one roof is going to make life a whole lot easier on her new son.

“Poppy.” George kisses me on the cheek. “What happened to your leg; are you taking falling lessons from Max?”

Max fell out of a ceiling and broke his leg in three places before Lilly and he started dating. “Just trying to grab a little extra attention,” I joke. “It’s a stress fracture from running.”

“From running too much,” Lilly clarifies. “We have a surprise for you tonight.”

“My dress, right?” I’m here for the final fitting of my bridesmaid gown, but something tells me, by the look in Lilly’s eyes, it’s not the only reason I’m here. I can take a lot in my lifetime, but Lilly’s surprises are usually not on my top ten.

“A surprise for me?” I ask tentatively.

“You know how you were supposed to meet Jacob and run?” Lilly is giddy and I’m scared. While I’ll admit I’m not exactly prone to dating long term, the idea that Lilly gets what’s right for me is ridiculous. She doesn’t even understand why I run or like to wear my mother’s skirts. She just thinks I’m pseudo-crazy and so is this loon her husband found on the beach, so it’s a match.

“Yeah?” I stretch out the word.

“Well—” At that, the doorbell rings, and I know exactly what it means. The only thing that surprises me is that no one has chained me down and thrown makeup and new clothes on me for the spontaneous “dating game” event.

“I’m going to hurt you,” I growl through clenched teeth.

Morgan opens the door and outside stands someone I can only guess is Jacob Frawley. He’s painfully tall, perhaps six-five, and his color is indeed good, but it’s hidden behind a black cluster of facial hair and equally dark curls gelled to his head in a 1974 sort of direction—sort of a cross between Tom Selleck (remember him?) and the guy from Starsky and Hutch. When he smiles at me, I feel a shiver run up my back.

“Jacob.” Max goes over and shakes hands and takes the balsamic vinegar Jacob is toting.
Why didn’t I think of that?
“Come on in. Lilly’s just taken the lasagna out and we’re waiting for it to cool.” Max looks over the vinegar and laughs. “Great vintage.”

Jacob looks at me, and then Georgie, and his eyes linger a bit too long on my red hair. I can only imagine the Maureen O’ Hara ideas he has in his head. I want to quickly extinguish them. In fact, if I had a fire extinguisher here, don’t think I’d be past using it. His gaze is creeping me out, like he’s thought long and hard about the red hair fetish, and I want to run screaming from the room.

“Lilly, can I help you in the kitchen?” I quickly hand Georgie back to Morgan and jump the step to the kitchen. Lilly peels back the foil on the lasagna.

“I don’t know. I’m cooking with sausage here.
Can
you help me?”

I back away from the meat-infested noodles. “No, I don’t think I can.”

“Didn’t think so. Why don’t you toss the salad?” Lilly lifts a brow. “No tomatoes died in the making of that salad.” She starts to giggle.

I’m not a vegetarian, but I don’t eat a lot of meat, either, and I certainly don’t eat sausage, which is the sum total of parts that shouldn’t be considered edible. I mean, has she ever actually read Leviticus? But I look back down at Jacob, who seems to be licking his chops like I’m dinner. Jacob . . . or sausage. Well, no-brainer there. I quickly head for the sub-zero to get the salad. When I open the fridge door, Lilly appears next to me so that we’re hidden from view by the door.

“Isn’t he great?”

“He’s really not, Lilly,” I whisper back. “He’s sorta creepy, if you want the truth.”

She peeks around the door and looks at him again, “Really? How so?”

“Look at the way he’s watching me,” I say through a closed mouth, like a ventriloquist.

“That’s called physical attraction, Poppy. Maybe it’s been too long. He obviously thinks you’re gorgeous.”

“No, that’s called the precursor to stalking. That’s called ‘How fast can you get a restraining order?’ Physical attraction is what I feel for one of my patients and must fight to keep control over.” My mind wanders to Simon, and I feel a smile emerge.

Lilly sets the salad on the granite and takes out her homemade dressing in an ancient Tupperware—one I can only assume is her Nana’s. “What? You came down to earth with us peons and found yourself attracted to a patient? Wow, Poppy, I’m really impressed. First, physical attraction. Next stop, dressing better. Pretty soon, the earth is going to start rotating around the moon.”

“Well, don’t be too impressed. Simon’s moving to Hawaii so my secret is safe for all eternity. But do you know what he did, Lilly?”

She leans against the counter and loses all interest in the food. “What did he do, Poppy? Did he get a colonic that you suggested?”

“Lilly, don’t be disgusting.” She shrugs and pulls out my wimpy little lasagna from the oven. “So listen, Simon is one of those guys who just knows someone. He has a friend who does this or that. He’s just—he’s basically Kramer with a brain. He just ‘knows a guy.’ You know what I’m saying?”

“Not really. Could we speed this up? What did he do?”

“He found out from Emma about my mom’s house and he employed a contractor friend, who he claims needed work, and just started repairing the house. When I finally got there, expecting what the house had been for twenty years, it was gone. Stripped away and ready to be built again.”

“Without your consent? Oh Poppy, I don’t know if I’d like that. He sounds like he makes himself a little too at home.”

I look at the lasagna, and I have to say even with the layer of grease on top, it smells utterly divine. Lilly puts a paper towel down to sop up the excess grease the baster didn’t catch.

“I did like it,” I admit.

“Poppy, are you actually interested in someone?” Lilly pulls her potholders off.

“Me? No, I’m not interested. I just said I was attracted. I’m not attracted enough to pack up my life and move to Hawaii. I just think if I ever did decide to find a man, it would be someone like Simon. He’s not afraid to put himself out there, you know?”

“It’s just I haven’t really heard you mention anyone you thought was attractive, not in years. I know you dated that guy at church for a little while—that business dweeb. But then I heard nothing. I was beginning to wonder if you weren’t beyond such a simple thing as a boyfriend.”

“Listen, where do you want me to put this meatfest?” I grab the potholders.

“Just put it on the table. I’ll get a warming plate.” Lilly grabs my elbow. “We’re not done talking.”

“Talking about what? What am I missing?” Morgan comes alongside us, Georgie hiked up on her hip. She’s brought him a bag of tricks, including a video. I’ve heard Morgan say how antivideo she is for children. But apparently, she’s ready for a night out, because there in the pack are three Veggie Tales and she starts rifling through them with her free hand. “Don’t talk without me. Unless you’re talking about me?”

“It’s nothing. Poppy was just saying how you look like you’re gaining weight.”

“Lilly!” I slap her shoulder.

“It’s Morgan’s fault; if she wasn’t so paranoid she wouldn’t be so much fun to tease. She’s just ‘candy from the baby,’ you know?” Lilly opens the fridge again and gets out a pitcher of fresh-brewed iced tea. She removes the tea bags, adds more ice, and yells down to the men, “Let’s eat.”

I place the salad and the lasagna on the table and smell the sourdough bread Lilly’s made by hand, and I have to say, this is not a good place for a diet. Especially a vegan’s diet. It’s a good thing I’ve never made that commitment. I think I’d have to banish Lilly and her grandmother from my life.

“Poppy’s got a boyfriend,” Lilly whispers, so Jacob won’t hear.

“I don’t,” I explain to Morgan. “I just said I thought someone was attractive and Lilly took it the wrong way.”

“Well, maybe that’s because we’ve never heard you say that. Not in years. All we hear is that a guy’s color is good or that he’s such-and-such percentage body fat. But hot? No, we haven’t heard that, I believe, since the last Johnny Depp movie.”

“I didn’t say he was hot. I said I found him attractive and told Lilly something nice he did for me. I don’t even find him
that
attractive. It’s just he went beyond the call of duty and I’m not used to that. He took me by surprise, which I thought was romantic.” As I say it out loud, it just sounds stupid. “Maybe I made too much of it when I was telling Lilly.” I think about what I’ve just said and admit it’s not quite true. “Well, he is hot. But in an unrequited, patient sort of way, where I admire from afar.”

“So maybe your hand could slip a little and you could send him that message,” Lilly says.

“Lilly, do you have to take everything to the gutter?” Morgan asks.

“Yeah, I guess I do. It makes life more fun. Hey, this is about Poppy, not me.”

“What about Poppy?” Jacob comes up to the table and smiles. He’s got good teeth, I’ll give him that. And they’re his. Yet another point. “I’m looking forward to our run.” Said with the same inflection as “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Eww.
He so grosses me out. Can my friends really not see this? One thing that’s a dead giveaway is he’s said nothing about my cast. He either hasn’t noticed because he’s too busy gawking at my red hair, or he must think it’s a party trick.

“Lilly, may I speak to you in your bedroom a minute?” I grab her hand.

Lilly puts the rest of the meal on the table and tells the men to gather round. “Go ahead, start eating. Poppy and I have to discuss her gown; we’ll be right back.”

“Right now?” Max asks.

“Right now,” Lilly confirms.

As we head to the bedroom, Morgan is on our heels with Georgie. The bedroom is done in rich, Tuscan fabrics, and a warm sienna, textured wall makes me feel as though I’ve stepped into an historic castle. But again, it’s the magnificent view of the San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge that dominates the room.

“Dang, Lilly.”

“I know, isn’t that awesome?”

“The food is getting cold,” Morgan reminds us.

“So go eat, Morgan. Poppy said a guy was cute.”

“I said he was attractive.”

“Whatever. Is he cute enough where you’d wear something different around him?’

“He’s been coming as a client for three years; he knows what I dress like.”

Lilly groans. “Oh, so this is a one-sided thing.”

“Lilly,” Morgan chastises. “Maybe he loves Poppy for her beauty. Besides, engineers never notice clothes. Is he an engineer?”

“He’s got his PhD in engineering. He invented some gadget and retired. Now he helps people get businesses started and golfs.”

“So you’re not really into Jacob then?” Lilly asks. “I have to admit, I sort of see what you were talking about. Maybe he is a tad creepy.”

“He’s positively
Ten Most Wanted
creepy, Lilly,” Morgan says. “And I supported you.”

“Yeah, he does creep me out a little, but so do you sometimes, Poppy.”