Divorced, Desperate and Delicious

Kathy’s florist delivery truck, nicknamed the White Elephant, sat in front of her mobile home. Lacy got out of her car. Her heart hadn’t slowed during the five-mile drive.

  She’d turned around and headed back to her house four times. But each time when she got to the road leading to her house, she thought of her mother’s words, I hear wedding bells. Then she’d remember Peter and her shattered dreams. If that wasn’t enough to put the car in reverse, a mental image of an old man doing the Dirty Chicken dance with her grandmother would fill her head. Did she want to wind up like her mother and grandmother, collecting divorces like they were stamps?

  Taking the porch steps, Lacy walked through Kathy’s front door without knocking. Sue and Kathy stood in the kitchen.

  “It’s about time.” Kathy brushed her long mane of red hair off her shoulder. “You better have a very good reason for being late. I’m hungry and you know I get cranky when I’m hungry.”

  “I thought you get cranky when you’re horny,” Sue said.

  “Hungry or horny. What’s the difference?” Kathy laughed.

  Lacy dropped her purse beside the door and walked over to the kitchen table, where she plopped down in a chair. Without understanding why, her vision became watery. Then her eyes started leaking. She swiped at the drops falling onto her cheeks. “Must be allergies.” Lacy sniffed, trying to hold everything in, but the dam had burst and the tears continued.

  Kathy and Sue studied her and then exchanged glances. “This doesn’t look good.” Kathy pointed a finger at Lacy.

  “I think she slept with her ex-husband,” Sue said.

  They stared at each other, then back at her. “Is this a wine night?” Kathy asked. “Or should we go with something stronger, like Jack Daniels straight up?”

  Lacy hiccupped. “Congratulations, Sue, on . . . the letter from the editor.” She wiped her face again, fighting for control. “I’m happy . . . for you.”

  “Yup.” Sue shook her head. “She screwed Peter again.”

  “I haven’t screwed anyone.” Hiccup. “I can’t sleep with anyone.” She drew in a shaky breath. In spite of being best friends with these two for the last eighteen months, she’d never confessed her big secret—the family curse. “I can’t ever have sex again. Never! It’s a curse. My grandmother had it. My mother has it. I have it.” More tears flowed down her face. “No more home runs. Not even without going to bat. I’m just praying it’s the bat that sets this whole thing off.” Lacy dropped her forehead against the table and continued to hiccup.

  “I’ll get the Jack Daniels,” Kathy said.

  Lacy heard chairs being dragged across the floor, and she raised her head.

  “Okay, first tell me about this curse.” Kathy pushed over a box of Kleenex. “Then explain home runs to me.” She poured whiskey into a small glass. “I think I got the bat reference.” Kathy grinned, as if humor would help. “Maybe home runs, too.”

  Lacy pulled out a tissue and blew her nose. “It’s like this: insert male organ and out goes my heart. Bat in. Heart out. I’m destined to fall in love with every man I sleep with. And then I marry them. Then they screw the secretary or the professor. And then I get a divorce or give back the ring.” She picked up the glass and took a small sip. The whiskey burned her throat and she coughed.

  Finally able to speak, she continued. “I can’t do it. If I do, one day I’ll wake up and I’ll be just like them. I’ll be competing against Liz Taylor for the Most-Divorced award.” She curled her hand around the tissue. “Right now my grandmother is planning on marrying some guy who can dance the Dirty Chicken. My mother’s marriage file is so thick she had to pay movers to get it to the lawyer’s office when she went for her last divorce. She changes husbands more often than she does purses.”

  Kathy laughed.

  Sue shook her head. “What’s the Dirty Chicken? Is it that one where they . . .” She started flapping her arms. “Quack. Quack.”

  Kathy laughed harder and stared at Lacy. “Okay. You win this week’s horniest award. I mean, after that story . . .”

  “I don’t want to win.” Lacy blew her nose again. “I won last week.”

  Kathy shook her head and poured herself a whiskey. “Look. It’s time we stop being angry, bitter divorcées and move on with our lives. It’s not healthy. We need to let go of the hurt and become normal divorced sluts like the rest of the population. We’ve got to learn to use men like they use us.”

  “Didn’t you listen to what I said?” Lacy asked. “I can’t use them without dragging them to see a justice of the peace.”

  “Well, you just have to go after the guys who would never agree to marriage.” Kathy’s eyes sparkled. “The bad boys, the kind who would run from commitment like my plumber, Mr. Stan Bradley. Which is a great idea.” She pointed to Lacy. “You sleep with him and I’ll get my toilet fixed for free.”

  Lacy wiped her nose again. If she was going to take a chance on a bad boy, she already had one. “What if I try to change his mind? I mean my mother managed it five times.”

  “But you’re not your mother,” Sue said, and poured herself a drink. “None of us are our mothers. Why, look at my mom. She’s a hypochondriac. She lives for her doctors’ appointments. Just the . . .”

  Lacy and Kathy’s eyes met as Sue continued to chatter, and both of them had to fight hard not to laugh, because Sue was more like her mother than—The truth of it hit Lacy. What was it Chase had said? The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. Oh, Lordie! Was she really destined to be like her mom and grandma?

  “I propose a toast,” Kathy said and raised her glass. “To us. Not being our moms and forever being friends.”

  Three glasses met in the air, clinked, and then they all swallowed the burning whiskey in quick gulps. Next came serious coughing, followed by some serious laughter. Kathy put on a Sting CD, Songs of Love, and in a few minutes Lacy’s desire to sob had lessened. Sting obviously knew how to take the sting out of heartbreak.

  Pulling the food from the oven, they ate warm flour tortillas, chicken fajitas with guacamole and pico de gallo.

  “Okay,” Kathy said, picking up a tortilla. ‘‘Now for the discussion.” Her eyes twinkled with a devilish glint. “Is it length or girth?” She rolled the tortilla long then folded it. “What’s your take, Lacy?”

  “Please,” Lacy said. “Can’t we table this topic?”

  The topic got pushed back to talk about Sue’s new sandals, which had only set her back forty bucks. They were still picking at the food when a knock at the door interrupted. Kathy got up to answer it. Lacy and Sue listened as a male voice came from the door. For a crazy second, Lacy’s stomach knotted and she thought it could be Zeke. Her gaze zipped to Kathy: at least this time, she could do all the endless chatter.

  “Sure.” Kathy spoke to the visitor behind the door and stepped back.

  Lacy’s stomach clutched, but then a dark-haired man, early thirties, wearing jeans and light blue T-shirt, walked into the room. Definitely not Zeke.

  The visitor grinned at Lacy and Sue, and his blue eyes crinkled with smile lines. “Ladies,” he said.

  “Didn’t mean to intrude on girls’ night.” He walked past them and headed to the back of the trailer. Both Lacy and Sue watched him walk right into Kathy’s bedroom.

  Sue and Lacy stared at each other, then turned to Kathy. “Should we leave?” Lacy asked.

  “You’re taking the length and girth investigation to the hilt, aren’t you?” Sue asked.

  Kathy burst into giggles. “No. But that’s the plumber. Here’s your chance, Lacy—go work off my plumbing bill, would you?” More snickers erupted.

  “That’s the guy who wants to clean out your pipes?” Sue asked. “I wouldn’t mind cleaning out his pipes.”

  “Shh!” Kathy wrinkled her lightly freckled nose and glanced back down her hall. “He is cute, isn’t he?”

  Lacy shook her head. “Why is he here now?”

  Kathy grinned. “He said he forgot his screwdriver.”


  “Likely story,” Sue said. “He just wanted to stop by on the off chance you might need something screwed.”

  Lacy chuckled. “Did you say his name was Bradley?”

  “Yes, why?”

  Lacy shook her head. She wasn’t certain, but that seemed to be the name of the plumber who had called this afternoon and said her grandmother had hired him last year to come and check out the septic tank. “I’m not sure but—”

  Footsteps down the hall interrupted Lacy’s words. “Found it.” His smile was all for Kathy. “Looks like you ladies had a feast with Mr. Daniels?”

  “With whom?” Kathy asked.

  “Daniels.” He pointed to the bottle.

  “Oh, “Kathy said. “We don’t really drink. Just sample.”

  He grinned. “Don’t sample so much that you’re sick. Well, I should be going. You’ve got my number. If you need anything . . . anything at all, call me.” His gaze stayed on Kathy, and Lacy noticed the heat smoldering in his eyes when he gave her friend’s curvy body the up-and-down. If a look could serve up hot love, Kathy had just been treated to a double helping.

  Kathy nodded, her freckled nose turning red. “Yes. And you’ll mail the invoice, correct?”

  “I could just drop it off sometime.” Hope filled his voice.

  Kathy began folding and unfolding a napkin. “Just mail it.”

  Disappointment filled his eyes. “Okay.” As he turned to leave he asked, “Oh, where’s Tommy?” He swung back around and pulled out his wallet.

  “At his father’s.”

  He took a step forward. Kathy backed up until she bumped the table with her hip.

  “Well, give this to him for me. I promised I’d pay him for helping me today.” He handed Kathy a five-dollar bill.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Kathy said.

  “I know. But he’s a cute kid. And I keep my word.” He turned and left without saying good-bye.

  Lacy and Sue both stared at Kathy. Sue spoke first. “He doesn’t seem like the bad-boy type. He seems . . . sweet and sexy. And he thinks Tommy is cute.”

  Kathy sat back down and poured herself another “sample” of Jack Daniels. “Which is exactly why I’m staying away. I thought my ex-husband was sweet. Look what he turned out to be.”

  “Thought we were going to be normal divorced sluts.” Sue dropped a hand around Kathy’s shoulders.

  Kathy frowned. “I’ll start being a slut tomorrow.”

  “So, becoming a slut is like starting a diet. It’s always going to start tomorrow.” Sue chuckled. “In that case, tomorrow I’m going to call that Dodd cop back and let him interrogate me. Maybe do a strip search. Who are you calling, Lacy?”

  Lacy knew that the Dodd cop Sue spoke of was Jason, the one who’d groped her last night. “No one.” She had a bad boy waiting for her at the house. Lacy stared down at her hands. Part of her wanted to tell Kathy that she should throw caution to the wind and take a chance on the plumber. But who the heck was she to offer advice like that? Oh, jeepers! What was she going to do when she got back to her house? Her vision suddenly became watery again.

  • • •

  When Jason didn’t show, Chase dialed his friend’s cell phone. No answer. He waited another fifteen minutes and then called again. This time, Jason picked up.

  “Dodd.”

  “It’s me. I thought you said—”

  “Can’t talk now,” Jason snapped. “I’ll call later.”

  Chase didn’t like his friend’s tone, but then again, if something was wrong, Jason would have told him. At least he hoped like hell that was the case.

  Feeling like a caged animal, he got up and paced. Needing to do something, he decided to cook.

  A few hours later, Chase had made pasta with chicken and wine sauce, and when Lacy didn’t show up he stored it for the next day. Then he pulled out the vanilla wafer box and snacked beside the fire he’d started in the fireplace. He wondered how late Lacy would stay out. He wondered if he should have tried to stop her. He went to the hall closet and pulled out the bedding. After shooing the animals off, he tucked the sheet into the couch. When she did get home, he wanted her to know that sleeping with him was her choice. Never mind that they’d bought two boxes of condoms. If she wanted him to stay on the couch, that was where he’d stay.

  As eager as he was to make love to her, only fools rushed in. Patience always won out. Eventually she’d give in. Or not. The “or not” burned in his gut.

  Chase slumped down on the sofa. Fabio and the two cats joined him. He stroked the red tabby and started the video for the fourth time. He’d been looking at Lacy’s movie selections when he’d stumbled across a tape that truly interested him. Written in black marker across the back was her name. Chase had stuck it in, hoping it was what he thought. He hadn’t been disappointed.

  Someone, probably Lacy’s mother, had had all the old home movies transferred onto a video, and for the last three hours Chase had gotten glimpses of Lacy’s past. The video started with a silent black and white tape of a three-day-old Lacy coming home from the hospital. There was one of her smearing baby food over her face. Following that segment was one of Lacy as a toddler carrying around another orange tabby. Chase laughed as Lacy’s diaper slipped down around her ankles and she simply walked out of it and continued on with the limp feline in her arms.

  Then the tape showed a young, teary-eyed Karina Callahan with a young Lacy in her arms, both of them dressed in black. When the camera turned to the casket with an American flag draped over it, Chase figured it was the funeral of Lacy’s father. From there, several of the segments didn’t make sense. They appeared to be at weddings, showing brief glimpses of Karina dressed to the nines, but Chase figured he must be wrong, because he’d counted up to as many as four of the events. Between some of the formal affairs, the video showed Lacy growing up. There was one of Lacy trying to ride a bike. She had fallen, and Chase’s chest actually ached when the camera showed her holding her arm and walking away from the camera, her lower lip trembling. The next clip showed Lacy wearing an arm cast, and Chase’s gut tightened.

  Time moved forward, the tape continued, and the Lacy on the screen was in high school. He saw her all decked out in her royal blue prom dress. Damn, she had been beautiful even then. But Chase didn’t care to see that the young man she was with seemed to think so too. The guy couldn’t keep his eyes off the front of her dress. And neither could Chase.

  By far, the most difficult segment to watch was of Lacy’s wedding. She looked absolutely gorgeous in her white wedding gown. And the love in her eyes when she looked at that asshole Peter made Chase see red. When the movie ended, he pushed rewind.

  Impatient, Chase pushed the orange cat from his lap. Standing, he hit pause. A smile crossed his lips when he realized he’d stopped the tape right when Lacy’s diaper had dropped. Walking to the kitchen, he grabbed the phone and dialed Jason’s cell number. This was the third time he’d tried to call.

  “Hello?” Jason answered in a hurry.

  “It’s me,” Chase said.

  “I’ll call you right back, Shelly!” The line went dead.

  Chase got an ugly feeling in his stomach. He paced around the living room for ten minutes. The phone rang. Chase started to pick it up but realized he couldn’t until he knew it was Jason. Lacy’s phone had rung constantly. Between her mother and Eric, Chase had gotten an earful.

  “Chase?” Jason’s voice echoed over the sound system and Chase hit the button to answer.

  “Yeah?” There was a pause. “What happened?” Chase insisted.

  “It’s Stokes,” Jason said. “He took a turn for the worse. The doctor has been called in. Sounds like they may have to take him back into the operating room.”

  “Did Zeke get to him?” Chase curled his hand into a fist, thinking of Stokes’s family.

  “No. We’ve had someone here the whole time. I’ve told them not to let Zeke go in by himself.” Another pause. “But there’s something else. Ze
ke is on to us. He was suggesting to the captain that I could be involved.”

  “Christ!” Chase snapped. “What’s the captain saying?”

  “You know the captain. He’s a straight shooter. He called me in and asked me right out.”

  “What did you tell him?” Chase asked.

  “I told him I didn’t think you were in on anything. Told him that if I were a betting man, I’d bet my left ball on Zeke being the one who’s dirty. Then I lied and said I hadn’t heard from you.”

  Chase closed his eyes and told Jason about Zeke showing up at Lacy’s. “I’m sorry for pulling you into all this, “he added. “Listen, watch your back. Zeke means business.”

  “I know. When this is over, you owe me a beer.”

  “Make that a six-pack,” Chase agreed.

  They continued talking. Jason told him he was looking into the old cases that Zeke had worked. Then Chase complained about hitting a mental brick wall when it came to Zeke’s reasons.

  “What do you think we should do next?” Chase ran a hand over his face. “Is it time I came in?”

  In the back of his mind, Chase thought of the possibility of actually going down for something he didn’t do. He thought about the possibility of being robbed of any real chance with Lacy. His gaze went back to the child on the screen, her bottom bare, her arms wrapped around a kitten, and his chest grew tight.

  He’d always believed that love grew out of time and respect. He’d dated Sarah several months before he’d been hit with it this hard. Then again, his time with Lacy had been so intense. Could this really be love? For just a second, thoughts of Lacy and Sarah in the same brain cells sent a thread of guilt needling through his chest.

  “Not yet,” Jason said. “Give it a few more days. I’ll either call or swing by to see you tomorrow. Gotta go.”

  Chase put the phone on the charger and walked back into the living room. He’d just sat down when he heard someone at the front door. The sound of the key being fit into the lock echoed in the silence, but with Lacy’s fake-poop key holder, which was totally unsafe, he couldn’t trust it would necessarily be her. He held his breath. Fabio dove off the sofa, barking and growling his way to the entry way.

  Chapter Twenty