CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Didi awoke the next morning to the screeching sound of “How Can I Miss You If You Won’t Go Away?” Poor Maisie went flying again as Didi scrambled out of bed to whack the radio.

She hadn’t slept well the night before, despite a long soak in the tub and an absorbing paperback featuring the adventures of an Episcopal priest. Jake and Kevin still tumbled around in her aching head. The last thing she wanted to do was get up and go to work. After the emotional wringer she’d gone through the past few days, the dark circles under her eyes were all too evident. Thank heavens for concealer and strong coffee.

Shuffling to her closet, she spotted what she’d been wearing the first time she’d met Jake. Oh, my gosh. Before she’d rushed to the vet, she’d tugged on sloppy sweats. Her hair had been up in a messy ponytail and her face devoid of makeup. She didn’t even want to think about her puffy, red-rimmed eyes, and to top it off, when she’d arrived home, her stomach had sunk when she’d noticed she had on one blue sock and one brown sock.

Thankfully, at the rally she’d been at least somewhat put together, even if dressing to impress a group of teenagers had been the furthest thing from her mind.

Searching her closet for something to wear, she was dismayed that the majority of her clothes were plain and boring. Dreary black, muted earth tones, drab grays, and the occasional subdued blue abounded, with nary a bright color in sight. Maybe Suzy would be available some night this week to go shopping with her. As usual, she was tight on money, but if she shopped with care, she was sure she could find something pretty, inexpensive, and colorful. She had a date on Friday night with someone other than Kevin. She wanted to shine or, at least glimmer.

Pulling out black pants yet again, a plain white blouse, and a black and white striped sweater, she held them up and examined herself in the mirror. Not great but okay. Digging into the back of her closet, she found a petal pink silk blouse her sister had given her for Christmas and slipped that on instead. Better. She coaxed some body into her hair and fastened in black and white hair clips. Instead of her usual work sneakers, the clean ones, she slipped on a pair of black ballet flats and splashed on her rarely used Irish cologne. Kevin hadn’t liked the scent, but she did.

Kevin had often intoned, “A good Christian girl should be demure and not call attention to herself.” A few months ago, she’d had on a new fuchsia twin-set when Kevin had come to pick her up for a date. His lifted eyebrows had implied her sweater was too tight or too bright or too something, and he’d left no doubt he’d prefer she change. She’d changed. Why had she let him have such power over her? For Pete’s sake, her ultra-conservative mother had given her that sweater. There was nothing provocative about it.

Yesterday, she’d read an article in a women’s Christian magazine concerning acknowledging positive traits, and she’d taken inventory. She had pretty, delicate wrists, and hadn’t she been told her smile lit up a room? Plus, her hands had beautifully shaped fingernails, and there was nothing wrong with her super cute ankles.

Her hair was another story—in need of some serious professional help. Her nail polish was chipped, scraggly eyebrows begged to be neatened, and rough heels screamed for a silky-soft moisturizing cream. She had until Friday to get herself ready. The prospect both energized and scared her.

More dressed up than usual for work, Didi cuddled Maisie close, plucked cat fur off her black pants, grabbed a pre-packed lunch, and headed out the door.

As she drove into the parking lot of Fast Forward, the women’s magazine where she’d worked for the past three years, she was pleased her co-worker, Kristin, pulled into the space next to hers. She and Kristin shared an office and had become good friends over the years. The atmosphere of the place was creative and fun though sometimes frantic. Getting a magazine out on time every month was a real adventure.

As Didi and Kristin entered their office together, Kristin asked, “Do you have any ideas ready for the meeting today? I haven’t had a moment to think of anything.”

Every Wednesday was Brainstorm Wednesday. The whole office gathered over brown bag lunches from eleven thirty a.m. until one p.m. Everyone was expected to participate in story development, and even the silliest ideas were kicked around. Each person presented one or two proposals, and “show and tell” props were encouraged—anything that would get the creative juices flowing. The weekly meetings were full of laughter.

“I have one thought but nothing earthshaking,” Didi replied. “I was planning on getting my ideas together before today, but I could only think of one thing.” She was lucky she still had her head on straight with the week she’d been through.

“You’re not telling, are you?”

“Nope. It’s a surprise.” Before she forgot, she transferred Miss Maisie’s brand-new toothbrush from her purse into her lunch bag to show at the meeting. “I’m shocked I remembered to pull my pants on this morning. Did you do anything fun lately?”

After a brief rundown of their respective weeks, and being careful to avoid mention of Kevin or Jake, Didi plunged right into work mode and opened her email. Invariably, her inbox overflowed, and it took a while to wade through the list. She opened and prioritized what was important, but one email from her friend Maria caught her eye. Comical cartoons of country stars accompanied the list of “Ten Worst Ever Country Song Titles.” Didi couldn’t help but snicker as she read the titles.

I’ve Been Roped and Throwed by Jesus in the Holy Ghost Corral
I Keep Forgettin’ I Forgot About You
I Liked You Better Before I Knew You So Well
I’m So Miserable Without You, It’s Like Having You Here 
If The Phone Don’t Ring, Baby, You’ll Know It’s Me 
If You Leave Me, Can I Come, Too?
Walk Out Backward Slowly So I’ll Think You’re Walking In
I’m Gettin’ Gray from Being Blue
You Done Tore Out My Heart and Stomped that Sucker Flat
I’ve Got Tears in My Ears from Lying on My Back in My Bed While I Cry Over You

After forwarding the entertaining list to several of her friends, she sifted through the remaining emails. As she paused to sip a steaming cup of Earl Grey, her friend Maria called. Didi was surprised it had taken this long for the questions to commence.

“Okay, so what’s up with you and Kevin? You weren’t sitting together in Sunday school, which I thought was odd, but when you weren’t together in church, I knew something was wrong. I planned to flag you down after the service, but you were nowhere to be found. Where in the world did you get to, and what’s going on with the two of you?”

Didi had been dreading the moment her friends would want an explanation. “Well, briefly, Kevin and I are obviously having some trouble. In fact, you could say we’ve broken up for good, although I don’t think he knows it yet.”

“Well, my goodness. That is news. Are you okay? What happened?”

“It’s sort of a long story, and I’d love to go into it now, but I’m buried in work.” An idea germinated. “Hey, Maria, are you busy on Saturday night?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“I’ve been considering inviting some friends to my place for a potluck. I’d love to have you over.” Didi dumped a pile of papers from her inbox onto the middle of her desk.

“Will we get to find out what’s going on with you and Kevin?”

Didi couldn’t help but smile. Maria was as sweet as creamed honey, but she was a bit of a gossip. “Sure. There’s a lot to tell, so I figure if I get several people together all at once, it will save me some time. All right?”

Maria laughed. “Oh, sure. Sounds like fun. What can I bring?”

Knowing her friend hated to cook, Didi suggested a vegetable tray. “Also, please don’t allude to the breakup. It’s not common knowledge yet.” Didi didn’t want any rumors running amok. “I could use your prayers, though. But this is a good thing, and I’m okay. In fact, I’m better than okay.”

“Well then, that’s all I need to know for now. You can count on me to pray, and I’ll keep my pie-hole shut. One thing, though.”

“What’s up?

Maria hesitated. “I didn’t know Kevin very well, but I was always a smidgen concerned that he wasn’t the right man for you. There was something…I don’t know, just something…amiss. My woman’s intuition I guess, but if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me.”

They hung up as Kristin tiptoed back in the office with her third cup of coffee. Compassion warmed her friend’s eyes. “I’m sorry to eavesdrop, Didi, but I heard the last part of that. I don’t want to pry, but I gather it’s off between you and Kevin?”

Didi warmed her hands on her teacup and gave her friend a half-smile. “Yep. Relationship’s dead as a dinosaur.”

“My goodness. What happened? Last week, you were showing me pictures of wedding dresses.”

Wincing, Didi bit her lip. “I guess I’d rather not get into it right now, if that’s okay.”

“Sure. Although I’ve never met him, I’m sure you’re hurting pretty badly. I’ll be as quiet as a summer breeze and let you work. Do you need to go home early? Is there anything I can do for you?”

She’d almost forgotten she had such good friends. “Thanks, Kristin, but I really am fine.” Didi rose to make a copy of an article and patted Kristin’s shoulder on the way out. Her friend was a genuine sweetie. Kristin wasn’t a believer, but most Christians could take a lesson from her.

When Didi was halfway out the door, she turned. “I’m beginning to think breaking up with Kevin might be the best thing that could have happened. By the way, are you busy on Saturday night?” She might as well invite the people that mattered to her.

“Well, no, I’m surprisingly dateless once again. Thank you for reminding me.” Kristin grinned. “I know it’s hard to fathom. What did you have in mind?”

Didi filled her in on Saturday night and suggested that Kristin bring her famous shrimp fried rice. Her Chinese specialty was always a hit at office parties. “And Saturday, I’ll enlighten everybody on the situation with Kevin. But don’t worry. I’m downright cheery.”

As she walked to the break room to get another cup of tea, Didi mulled over what Maria had said. How long had she thought that Kevin wasn’t the right person for her? Did other people think that way, too? Had they known something she didn’t? Why hadn’t someone told her? Now that was something to ponder.

At eleven twenty-five, she and Kristin hurried into the conference room to secure good seats. A huge oval table filled up most of the space in the room, and several of the chairs were already taken. Ms. Francine Faye Farnsworth, editor and chief of Fast Forward, sat at the head of the table. She had a thing for the letter “F” and demanded that each of the subsections of the magazine fall under an “F” category. Some of the standard departments were Fun, Fashion, Family, Food, Future, and Finances. When faced with what to name articles on the male gender, some bright soul had come up with the heading “Fellas.” Francine pronounced it “close enough.”

Weighing in at no more than ninety-five pounds and ensconced in her usual “business suit” of skinny jeans, stilettos, and oversized sweatshirt, Francine ran on sugar, transfat, and caffeine. With short, frizzy, auburn hair and funky wine-red glasses, Francine was long on activity and short on idleness. An aura of energy surrounded the sixty-six-year-old dynamo. Did she take the time to sleep at night?

The staff meeting started at eleven thirty on the dot. The boss began by giving an overview of the articles to discuss for the upcoming September and October issues.

“So, what exciting new ideas do we have for today?” Francine bit into a raspberry jelly doughnut and licked her powdered-sugar-coated lips.

Jillian from accounting leapt into the fray by placing a tennis racket on the table. “I thought if there was still room in the September issue, we could do a feature on that mega-hot British tennis player, Hugh Day-Beach. He’s sixteenth on the top players list, but he has the potential to go all the way to the finals in the U.S. Open. Plus, if he doesn’t win, he’s got an interesting story and a photogenic face.”

Each issue also featured a celebrity in a given field, even if that “celebrity” was a relative unknown. The cover of the current April issue showed an eighty-one-year-old astronomer from New Zealand who had discovered a new moon orbiting Jupiter. The front of the May issue featured a splashy photo of the female jockey who was a good bet to win the Kentucky Derby.

“Great idea.” Francine turned to her assistant. “Do we have the cover nailed down for October yet?”

As usual, Grant was taking copious notes on his cutting-edge laptop. “We’d tentatively decided on giving the cover to George, the largest dog ever verified by the Guinness Book of World Records. I’m sure you recall meeting the Great Dane measuring 7’3” from nose to tail.”

“Ah, yes. Dear, sweet George with paws as big as a catcher’s mitt. Let’s make it happen and firm up the October issue. Contact the art department. I’d love to do the cover in a muted autumn palette. The golds and browns will go very nicely with his harlequin coat.” Francine thrust out a sticky hand, palm up, and Grant slapped a napkin in it. She discreetly wiped a smudge of raspberry jelly from the corner of her mouth. “Please make a note to contact his owner regarding the change.” She turned toward Jillian and beamed at her. “Great idea. Who’s next?”

Several people at the table seized the moment, thoroughly debating scads of inventive ideas.

A brief silence fell with a thud. Margaret from the IT department stood up on timid feet. Shy and reserved, she’d only been with the magazine for a few months. No one knew quite what to make of her, with her long hair, long sleeves, long skirts, and perpetually long face. A miniature toothbrush soared through the air and landed on the pile of show and tell items. Silence stole over the assembly, and curious eyes turned to pay close attention as Margaret’s shaky voice began to speak.

“Um, I was wondering if we’ve ever…done an article…on pet dentistry? Last week, I took my Chihuahua, Paco, to the vet, and Dr. St. Clair said…well, he wanted to cement braces on his teeth. As you can imagine, I really wanted to help my three-pound puppy, because he has a terrible overbite. But, it was going to cost me over two thousand dollars, so I had to say no, and well, I was wondering if it was worth doing a story.”

You could have heard a gnat sneeze. Francine’s stare bounced from one stunned face to another, and then she burst out laughing. With that, the dam broke, and one person after another gave in to temptation. Margaret blushed crimson and crumpled into her chair with tears in her eyes. The poor kid was obviously mortified.

In between urges to giggle, waves of empathy stole over Didi. Leaning forward, she smiled encouragingly. “I know how you feel, Margaret. I had my cat Maisie at the vet last Friday and spent a great deal of money to get her teeth cleaned. My darling could have also gotten a fluoride treatment, had a cavity filled, and had her teeth whitened so she’d be spectacular in pictures. It’s amazing what vets can do and what you can pay for these days.”

Margaret’s head came up, and she gazed at Didi with gratitude. The new kid on the block glanced around furtively to take in the group. Everyone else was grinning at her in a friendly fashion, and she calmed and quit sniffling.

Francine shook her head and wiped tears from her eyes. “Thank you, Margaret, for making us all smile—and yes, pun intended. It’s a superb idea to do a piece on the latest in animal cosmetic medicine. Grant, would you please…?”

“Already have it down.” Her right-hand man continued to type nonstop. “I assume you want to push to get the piece in the October issue, perhaps to go with the George the Giant theme?”

“Brilliant as usual, Grant. That’s why we pay you the big bucks.”

Grant quit typing and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.

“Many of our readers are pet lovers,” continued Francine, “and we’ve been given a grand idea for a photo shoot. Anyone know where we can find a Chihuahua that wears braces?” Francine winked, and everyone broke down again at the comical image.

Didi was pleased that this time as the laughter rippled through the crowd, Margaret sat up straighter and shared in the joke.

Francine peeked at the clock. “On that positive note, I’m afraid we’ve run out of time for today. Please hold your ideas until next week, and thanks to all of you for coming.”

As the assembly filed out, Didi slipped Maisie’s new toothbrush away in her lunch bag. Any credit for the idea should belong solely to Paco’s person. As she sauntered out to the hall, Margaret waited for her.

“Thanks, Didi.” Bashful Margaret gave her a quick hug, flashed a smile, and fled back toward her office. Didi made a mental note to ask her along the next time a few of the girls went out to lunch.

That afternoon, an anonymous email went out to everyone who had attended the meeting. A grimacing Chihuahua with bright silver braces—unmistakably photoshopped—appeared in living color on everyone’s computer. An 8 x 10 glossy of the dentally-enhanced canine miraculously appeared on Margaret’s office door. Steve in the graphic arts department was the obvious culprit, but as there were no witnesses, the case lost steam due to lack of evidence.

The rest of the day flew by, and the clock struck five. What was Jake doing now? Was he thinking about her?

She used to hope that Kevin was thinking of her. Her heart hitched. Didi hadn’t heard from Kevin since seeing him at church on Sunday. Although she’d been avoiding a confrontation, the silence was ominous.