Chapter Ten

Annie called Nicole at the office on Tuesday afternoon. “Guess where we’re all going this ladies’ night?”

“Please tell me there will be meat.”

Annie chuckled. “Oh, there’s meat all right, but not the kind you can eat, unless…never mind.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Paulina chose Body Language.”

“The strip club? Why would she want to go there?”

“I don’t know, maybe she needs some new clients.”

Nicole thought about what it would be like to watch girls dance who were almost young enough to be her daughter; girls with immobile breasts, hairless nether regions, and stomachs so flat you could bounce a quarter off them.

“This night is going to leave me feeling fat, ugly, and old,” she told Annie.

“Join the crowd. Hey, maybe afterwards we can watch reruns of The Golden Girls to make us feel better.”

“Have you ever been to a strip club?”

“No,” Annie said. “Have you?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I know Paulina has, and I’d be willing to bet my firstborn that Wanda has, so that leaves you and me strip-virgins. If you don’t mind, I’d rather we meet beforehand so we can walk in together.”

Nicole’s other line rang as Eric walked into her office carrying a stack of files.

“Sure. Call me,” she said, at the same moment that Annie’s muffled voice said, “My two o’clock just showed up. Call me.”

The office calmed down a little after five. Nicole wandered to the reception area and flopped down on the fire-engine-red couch. Her lower back was killing her. Too much sitting in one place all day. She needed a massage. The one thing she could honestly say in her ex’s favor was that he gave a great massage. He had wonderfully strong and capable hands that were able to get out all her knots and kinks. As soon as Stephen had figured out a rubdown was the equivalent of foreplay for her, she was on her stomach practically every night.

Pez jumped onto her and began licking her face. She sighed, looking into his bulging brown eyes. “I guess I’ll have to settle for dog kisses.”

When Eric came in and saw Pez, he gasped. “Pez, you know you’re not supposed to be on the couch.”

“Technically, he’s not on the couch. He’s on me.”

Eric snapped his fingers for Pez to get down, but Pez stood his ground, remaining on Nicole’s chest.

Eric looked horrified. “Pez, I’m going to count to three,” he threatened.

“Does that really work with him?” she asked. “It never did with Josh.”

Eric started to wring his hands, visibly upset. “He’s going through the terrible twos. I don’t know what to do with him.”

She sat up and placed Pez down on the floor.

Eric counted, “One, two…”

Pez went over to Eric’s feet and gazed up at him with a wrinkled brow that made him look permanently concerned for his welfare.

“That was a close one,” she said. “What do you usually do when you get to three?”

“I never have.”

Nicole stood, wiping dog fur from her black blouse. “Kids. They’re always testing your limits.”

“I should bring Pez to see my acupuncturist. Maybe she can straighten him out.”

“Don’t worry. It’s probably a phase that’ll be over soon. Although Josh’s terrible twos started when he was a year and a half and lasted until he was four.”

Eric’s eyes grew wide. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not.”

They shared a moment of silence as parents. She didn’t have to explain it to Eric. He was as much of a father to Pez as she was a mother to Josh. He knew.

“You look nice, by the way,” she told him.

“Thanks. I have another date with Mia, the woman I met online.”

“Good for you. Have fun.”

“What about you?” Eric asked. “Any plans tonight?”

“Actually, I’ve taken up scrapbooking,” she lied. “You wouldn’t believe how involved it is. Keeps me real busy.”

“I can imagine,” he said, scooping Pez up in his arms. He hesitated, searching Nicole’s face until she smiled. “Okay then. See you tomorrow.”

After Eric left she must have called every person she knew in the area and not one of them was home. Or they weren’t answering their phone. It was 6:15 on a Tuesday. Where was everyone? Even her Nana wasn’t at home. She was probably playing pool or golf or making pottery. It was pretty pathetic that her Nana had a more active social life than she did.

Nicole stayed at the office, because she couldn’t bear to go home to an empty house to read another novel or watch movies on Lifetime television. Her cleaning frenzy had produced a cleaner house than she had seen in years, and it continued to remain immaculate.

What had she done before Josh was born? What were her interests? She and Stephen weren’t always together every minute of the day, so what in the world did she do with her time? Photography became her passion after taking a class in college. So much so that Nicole had wanted to major in it until her type-A father threatened to stop paying for her education unless she chose something more practical.

She liked watching movies, but hadn’t stepped foot in a movie theater since she was pregnant with Josh. The thought of seeing a movie alone held no appeal. She used to sleep a lot, browse for hours in bookstores, frequent coffee houses back when you didn’t have to order drinks using special lingo. When did she stop going places? The closest she came to travel now was eating in an ethnic restaurant. No more foreign countries, Hawaiian beaches. No more sense of adventure.

All these years of mothering had made her forget what it was that made her tick. She refused to blame her son. She had chosen to give herself over to raising him. She was doing a damn good job too, but at what expense?

Wil hoped his new line of clothing would help women remember they were women first, mothers and wives, second. The only one Nicole identified with was mother. She had failed as wife, and woman was buried at the back of her closet, inside the box with all her lingerie.

Finally at 6:45, her friend Maureen, whom she hadn’t seen in ages, returned her call. Nicole invited herself over for a drink and left two hours later feeling worse than before she got there.

Maureen had been her roommate during their last two years at UCLA. They had both majored in business, and shared a fondness for Jell-O shots. Maureen had a mouth like a truck driver, and it had almost gotten them into more than a few bar fights. Fortunately, it was Nicole’s more diplomatic approach that usually saved them.

Maureen met Rob, who had made an embarrassing amount of money with the sale of a dot-com. She got married right out of college, popped out two kids soon after, and became domesticated, which at twenty-three, translated to boring. Almost immediately, they had nothing in common anymore.

She remembered trying to have conversations with Maureen back then, and before either of them was able to complete a sentence, they’d be interrupted by one of the babies. It would go something like this: Nicole would say “Hey, I met this great—”

“Wait, hang on, the baby just pulled the phone away from me. What did you say?”

“I said, I met this great guy last weekend—”

“Shh, don’t cry. What’s the matter, baby? Why are you crying?”

“His name is Brad and he’s—” she’d attempt over the deafening cries.

“Who? Shh, Shh, Shh.”

“This guy I met.” Now Nicole would be frustrated and realize Maureen hadn’t been listening to a word she’d said. “He produces porn and thinks I’d be great in one of his movies.”

“Shit! The baby just spit up all over me. I gotta go. We’ll talk later.”

They’d somehow managed to stay in touch all these years, probably in some strange homage to their history. Even though Maureen wouldn’t be one of the friends Nicole would call if she won a cruise and could take three girlfriends with her, she was genuinely glad to be seeing her after almost a year.

“I’m so glad you called,” Maureen’s husband said when he answered the door. “Maureen’s been in a bad way for some time now. Maybe you can shake her out of it. Between you and me, I think she’s going through the change. But she won’t admit her hormones are making her crazy.”

“I think she’s too young to be going through menopause, Rob.”

“Well then, convince her to get on some Prozac or something, because I can’t take her mood swings anymore.”

As soon as they got within earshot of Maureen, Rob bellowed, “Look who’s here. It’s Nicole!”

Maureen came over to embrace her. “Not only does he think I’m crazy, but deaf, too.”

“Oh my goodness,” Nicole said, holding Maureen at arm’s length. “How much weight have you lost?”

“Fifteen pounds.”

“Good for you.”

Maureen smiled proudly and grabbed a bottle of already opened white wine from the fridge. “We’re going to catch up in the backyard, Rob. Grab two wineglasses, Nic.”

“Good to see you again,” she told Rob, and followed Maureen out back.

Her backyard was the size of a city park, perfectly landscaped, complete with koi pond. Judging by her perfectly-manicured fingernails, she guessed Maureen didn’t get her hands in the dirt that often. She had to give her credit though, for creating a lovely sanctuary. Entire walls disappeared behind bushy magenta bougainvillea. The dark green leaves of banana trees were everywhere, while vibrant birds of paradise bordered the shell-shaped pool. The scent of plumeria permeated the warm evening air. This was about as close to a tropical vacation as Nicole was going to get anytime soon.

“So why does your husband think you’re crazy?” she asked, as Maureen handed her a glass of wine.

“Rob’s such a hairy ball sac. He keeps telling everyone I’m going through menopause and that I need hormones.”

“Are you?”

“I’m only forty, for chrissakes!”

Nicole took a sip of the wine and rolled it around on her tongue. “Then what’s wrong?”

“Men are always blaming our hormones for any problems. If it’s not PMS, it’s menopause. I told him the other day, it’s not P-M-S, Rob, it’s Y-O-U!”

Maureen stood and went over to a planter, reached inside and removed a pack of cigarettes. Nicole watched her light a cigarette and take a long, deep drag. “When did you start smoking again?”

She returned to her seat after making sure Rob was nowhere in sight. “About the time Scott’s college acceptances started rolling in. Rob doesn’t know, so I have to hide it from him.”

“That’s right. Scott’s off to college in the fall. Where’s he going?”

Maureen took two more long inhales, stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette and returned it to the pack. “NYU.”

“That’s great! NYU is an excellent school. How do you feel about him going so far away?”

It was a harmless question. Or so she thought. Maureen’s lips began to tremble, and her eyes filled with tears as she clenched and unclenched her fists.

“I’m sorry,” she cried, the tears really flowing now. “I do this every time.”

Nicole pulled her chair closer to Maureen. “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize to me.”

“This is why Rob thinks I’m going off the deep end. I hear Scott’s name and I burst into tears. But I can’t help it. He’s my baby.”

Nicole searched inside her purse for a tissue and handed one to Maureen. “Of course he is.”

Maureen took it and blew. “My whole life has been about taking care of my kids. Scott’s leaving and Abby will be gone in two years, and then what? My entire identity is gone. What will my purpose in life be?”

Nicole swallowed hard and tried to think of something reassuring to say. “Wife?”

This only made her cry harder.

“Are you kidding?” she sobbed. “Rob’s hardly ever around and when he is, he’s on the computer playing poker.”

That was the irony of marriage: you get married so you won’t be alone, and often wound up feeling more alone than you ever thought possible.

“The house is going to be so quiet without them,” she continued. “No more friends over, parties to plan, meals to cook. Wait until you go through it with Josh. It’ll kill you.” She downed the rest of her wine in one big gulp and refilled her glass.

“Josh is with his father in New York right now as we speak.”

“How are you doing with that?”

“Not so great, actually. It’s the first time we’ve been away from each other.”

“I guarantee he’s doing better than you are,” she said. “Everything’s a new experience for them. But for us? We’re stuck at home doing the same old shit, day in and day out.”

Nicole wanted to tell her that if she were stuck in Maureen’s home with her all-stainless-steel kitchen, marble countertops, and bathroom with built-in sauna and Jacuzzi bathtub, she wouldn’t be that miserable, but she knew the grass was always greener on the other side. When it came down to it, Maureen probably didn’t give a rat’s ass about any of the comforts she had. She just wanted her children home with her. For the rest of her life.

“How about starting a business from home?” she suggested. “That’s what you wanted to do when we were in college.”

She sighed. “Yeah, maybe.”

Nicole sipped her wine slowly, studying Maureen. Her weight loss had made her face look drawn. Small lines had begun to form around her mouth from smoking, and the crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes had deepened since she’d last seen her. They were both getting older, but Maureen was approaching that major life event every mother dreaded—the empty nest. Without a doubt, she too would be a complete wreck when her time came.

“Mom, where are you?” Maureen’s son, Scott called out.

The transformation in Maureen’s face was astounding. All at once her eyes lit up, her cheeks brightened and her expression read, My kids are the reason I’m alive.

“Out here, sweetie,” she said.

Scott appeared, along with three of his friends. “Oh, hey, Ms. Woods,” he said, giving her a quick hug.

“Congratulations on getting into NYU. It’s a great school.”

She slid a glance in Maureen’s direction, hoping the mere mention of NYU wouldn’t send her running for a Xanax, but Maureen was busy talking to Scott’s friends.

“Thanks,” he told her. “I can’t wait.” He turned to his mom. “We’re starving. Is there anything to eat?”

Maureen sprang out of her seat. “What would you like? I can make you whatever you want. Let’s all go into the kitchen.” There was sheer joy in her voice.

Nicole said her goodbyes to everyone except Rob, who was nowhere in sight, and promised Maureen she’d keep in better touch. Especially now, she decided, since Maureen was going to have such a rough road ahead of her.

She drove home thinking about how Maureen’s situation wasn’t so different from her own. Her life revolved around her son. She did everything with Josh in mind. He was her reason for being, maybe even a subconscious substitute for having a man in her life. As she’d discovered lately, she had no real interests anymore, so where did that leave her when he went off to college in ten years? Alone? Miserable? Lost?

When had her life become so unbalanced? So isolated? So passionless? She hadn’t gone out on one date since her divorce. Aside from Annie, she seldom spent time with friends. Salsa lessons had been the one thing she had done for herself, but they were over. Sure, she used the single mother excuse—no time, no energy, no sitter—but in the end, her passionless life had turned her into, as the poet Rumi described, a dead fish in the ocean.

By the time Nicole unlocked her door, she was crying. Huge, feeling-sorry-for-herself tears. She threw herself face-down on the couch and let it all out until she felt spent. She decided there was no need to fix her life that minute, but she definitely needed to make some alterations sometime soon, or she’d wind up like Maureen, trying to smoke and drink her loneliness away.

She was about to go up to bed when she heard a shuffling of papers outside the front door. She waited for a knock that never came, spied through the peephole, and saw Wil walking away. Her heart leapt at the sight of him. Nicole yanked open the door and saw the manila envelope he had left on her doorstep.

“Where are you going?” she called out.

He spun around, startled. “I didn’t want to wake you. Just wanted to drop off those papers you wanted ASAP.”

“Well, I’m up. Come in.”

He hesitated, looking extremely uncomfortable. “Probably not the best idea, Nicole.”

She was confused for a moment and then it hit her. He was keeping things professional between them, deciding not to push her. It was damn noble of him, but it wasn’t what she wanted anymore.

“Can you come in for just a minute?” she said. “I want to show you something.”

Again, Wil hesitated and glanced at his watch. “I have a business meeting.”

“At this time of night?”

“It’s when these guys do business,” he said with a shrug.

He had reduced her to begging. “Just for a second, please?”

“A second,” he said, coming in without closing the door behind him.

He was dressed to go out for the night, in jeans and a freshly pressed button-down shirt. His face was freshly shaven, and he smelled of soap and a hint of cologne. His scent alone was an aphrodisiac for her.

Wil checked his watch again. “You said you had something to show me?”

“I do.”

It was now or never.