7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
“I’ll admit, he could have been kinder to you, but I’m sure he just had a difficult day,” Jane said, twisting her hair around her finger.
Elizabeth said to Jane wistfully, “I wish I had your rosy view of the world.”
E lizabeth didn’t sound wistful though. She sounded harsh. “Well, that burst of writing energy was short-lived. Thanks, Wentworth.” I grimaced and rose to stretch my glutes, which were stiff after sitting at my laptop for two hours straight while barely writing a word.
Before I could admit to myself that Austen’s captain didn’t bear the blame for my writer’s block, my phone buzzed with a text from Jennifer Weston, one of my best friends and close confidants. Our friendship, including Belinda, dated back to the cringeworthy teenage years, and I loved that we were all still close. Well, when they had time for me.
Jenn
Hey, so sorry, but I have to cancel on our lunch plans for today. Family stuff, so sorry!
Viviana
That’s OK. Can you chat on the phone for a bit? I’m having man troubles.
A half hour later, the phone rang. “Hi, good to hear from you! I wanted—”
“Shh, you need to be quiet, Tyler. Sofia has a headache!” Jenn hissed. Her 2-year-old protested in outrage as she said, “Hi, Viv, I’m sorry, it’s been a crazy weekend.”
“I can see that! I don’t know how you do it,” I admitted.
“It?”
“The whole mom thing.”
“Oh.” Jenn laughed. “Yeah, me neither.” After issuing another stern warning to her son, she resumed, “Sorry about the lunch. Sofia has this piano thing later, and Kieran was going to take her, but he’s apparently got this work thing that he failed to mention. I won’t bore you with the details.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I never get bored hearing about your perfect and beautiful little family,” I said with only a smidge of sarcasm.
“Yeah, right.” Jenn cackled. “I haven’t completely forgotten what it’s like to be single and childless and free and decidedly not interested in hearing about people’s children. I’ve become my old self’s worst nightmare. So, what’s this about man troubles? I hope it’s an exciting new romance because you know I have to experience great romantic moments vicariously through you, since I don’t even have time for rom-coms these days.”
“I wish I could say I really feel for you, Jenn, but you don’t have it so bad. You snagged the perfect husband!” I reminded her. “So it’s this guy I know through work—”
“Oh, an office romance! I love a good Jim and Pam story.”
“Not really anything like The Office . He works at a major publishing house in New York, and he’s way, way above me. I know him through Brandon Bolder, who’s apparently his close friend.”
“Oh, like a Mr. Darcy situation!”
“Exactly!” I was relieved to hear that my oldest friend was still as perceptive as ever when it came to my love life, despite having long since retired from dating life herself. In fact, it was thanks to my intervention that Jenn and Kieran found each other, an unlikely love match if there ever was one. Kieran was the ultimate jock in college, and Jenn hated breaking a sweat. In addition to excelling at sports, he was also smart and even bookish; she, on the other hand, hated school. She’d managed to finish a child psychology degree shortly before jumping headlong into the marriage-and-kids life. The only thing they had in common, at least outwardly, was their ridiculously good looks. She was tall, lean, and gorgeous, with long, flowy, ash-blonde hair that looked like she just stepped out of a haircare product ad. He had an athlete’s body while also sporting the adorably nerdy look at the same time. They were night and day, but somehow perfect for each other. Introducing them had been one of my greatest accomplishments. “I knew you’d understand, Jenn.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Jenn said, once again pausing to admonish her toddler, though I doubted he could hear his mother over his own antics.
“Well, he’s a jerk.”
“A jerk as in the Darcy type, who seems like a jerk but is actually an amazing guy, or a jerk as in, like, he’s just a jerk. Like Mr. Big?”
I gasped. “But we loved Mr. Big!”
“Yeah, we loved Big, and so did Carrie, but did he love us back? Let’s face it, even in the end, he was still a self-absorbed jerk. A hot one, but still a jerk.”
“I guess,” I mumbled, unwilling to admit that the Sex and the City character, who I sometimes saw as a modern-day Darcy, was simply a jerk. I was even less willing to admit that, perhaps, that type of man might have been appealing to me then and even now.
“So which is he?” Jenn probed. “He’s not Big, is he?”
I sighed. I still had no inkling of an answer to that question. “I am still trying to figure that out, so I need your help.”
“What does Jack think?”
“He … well, he isn’t a fan. But he doesn’t know Gregory that well.”
“Jack doesn’t approve? Interesting. I think I need to hear more.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say—”
Jenn raised her voice, clearly having lost her patience with her son. “OK, no more TV. I asked you to be quieter.” Once I heard Tyler start crying—well, more like wailing—I knew the phone conversation was essentially over.
“Sorry, Viv, it’s not a great time. Can we talk later? Lunch or something next Sunday?”
“Sure, I’ll talk to you later,” I mumbled, unable to conceal my disappointment. Of course, Jenn couldn’t help it, but still. Losing friends to parenthood was hard.
Especially when my own life is so, so far from being ready to settle down in a cozy little family phase .
Before I could process my dismay about the brush-off from my oldest friend, my phone buzzed. It was Annie asking me out to lunch with “the guys,” and I didn’t even have to think about my answer this time.
Viviana
No, I’m tired. Need me time. Going to nap.
Annie
Me time again? Must be serious.
Viviana
I’m really just tired.
Annie
Fine. Drinks tonight?
Viviana
Can’t. Family dinner.
Annie
Boo :(
Text me after you leave your parents’ house *wine emoji*
But Annie wouldn’t give up easily. So I switched my phone on silent and headed to my bedroom, succumbing to the strong urge to escape all my confusing feelings in a blissful afternoon nap.
“Lillian sends regrets, as usual,” my mother said, passing around cloth napkins.
“And wonders why we can’t host family dinners at family-friendly times,” my dad added, uncorking an aged wine and placing it on the table.
I sighed. It was on the tip of my tongue to remind them that my sister and her perfect little family took up plenty of their time already with research conferences and children’s recitals and parties and who knows what else.
Why couldn’t I have just this? A once-a-month adult dinner with my family? As my father returned to the kitchen, my eyes lazily swept the room and landed on Jack seated nearby. Well, Jack too. He might as well be family, as often as he joined us for dinner.
The door to the dining room swung open, and my father brought out the steaming pan of lasagna, placing it on the table near Jack, who smiled with anticipation. “I’ll never tired of your homemade pasta dishes, Mark. And Janet, your desserts—”
“Jack’s easy to please.” I smirked. “But he’s right that Dad’s pasta is the best, and everyone knows it. Including Dad.” After my father performed an elaborate bow that garnered chuckles around the table, he pulled out his chair and sat down.
We had scarcely taken a bite before my mother spoke up. “We have an announcement to make.”
I dropped my fork, vaguely noting the red sauce splattering on my white sleeve as my eyes flew up to my parents’ faces.
Please don’t let it be cancer. Or divorce. Or financial ruin. Or—
“Janet,” my dad said, “I can see by her face that she’s conjuring up all sorts of awful predictions, so let’s just come out with it.”
My mother nodded. “Viviana, dearest, it’s nothing like that. Your father and I have decided to spend next year abroad, renting a home in Italy.”
At my blank expression, she added, “Your father is set to publish his tenth book next year, which is of course a major accomplishment in literary fiction. And I’m turning 60 soon. I … I have considered retirement, but I’m not ready. Instead, I’ve gotten approval for an extended sabbatical. You and your sister are welcome to come vacation there and stay with us anytime, if you’d like. Maybe we could all plan a summer month together?”
“We’ve always wanted to do a long trip abroad,” my father chimed in. “I mean, we went on some trips when you kids were younger, but we couldn’t afford to go abroad for more than a weekend for business or research.”
My eyes slowly swung back and forth between my parents. This was … news. My brain was slow to catch up, so I said the first thing that came to mind. “Does Lil already know?” I sighed heavily. “Of course she does. Silly question.”
“Lillian is putting in long hours on a tough grant proposal, and I thought it might be a while before we could get the whole family together to discuss. So, yes, I mentioned it to her at lunch yesterday,” my mother said. Both my mom and sister were academics at the University of Minnesota, so naturally, they saw each other often. I tried not to be jealous; I tried to tell myself I wasn’t even the jealous type. But I could admit this: it bothered me that unlike Lillian, who’d successfully followed our mother’s path, I not only had not followed in anyone’s footsteps but also had failed to do anything else exciting career-wise. Still, I liked my life. Mostly. Freelance editing from home was a dream, right? Of course, once upon a time, my dream was to be like my father. To be an author. Write books. But that was forever ago. Dad was a unicorn; I wasn’t.
Jack—sensing I felt a bit lost at sea because, well, he knew me better than anyone—chose that moment to chime in. “Janet, Mark, how exciting for the two of you. Vivi, you look a little shell-shocked, but this is wonderful news, isn’t it? Maybe you could join them for a summer trip next year. You’ve always wanted to go to Italy.”
As I slowly turned to look at Jack, the brain fog began to clear. My mouth curved upward slightly at the corners as I nodded. “You’re right. Mom, Dad, we’ll miss you, but … this is great news. You’ll have to send me all the info about where you’ll be staying. I need photos!”
“Let’s eat, and then we’ll show you some photos online,” my mother suggested, picking up her utensils again.
I let out a long breath. I was excited. It was exciting. But something was … off. Something making me anxious. But what? Frowning, I noticed the reddish-orange stain on my sleeve but resumed eating.
An hour later, I’d eaten my fill and drunk probably more than my share. Everyone was excitedly browsing through online photos of the vacation home, which I had to admit boasted an amazing view.
Then it hit me.
If Lillian and I decided to accompany them for part of this dream vacation, I’d be going solo. The only one.
My parents had each other.
Lillian had her husband, her three children.
I had no partner, no children. Not even a pet. Just myself. Not even an important career that I could use as an excuse not to go. Or an excuse to be single.
“Vivi, what’s wrong?”
Of course, Jack would notice right away.
He put his hand on my forearm gently, but I moved away slightly. “Ah, nothing, just, I don’t know, maybe I ate too much.”
“Honey, we know you better than that,” my mother said. “That’s not your I-ate-too-much-lasagna face.”
Despite my inner turmoil, I almost laughed. When everyone seemed to be waiting for more of a response, I sighed. “Fine. I’m only saying this because I’m a little tipsy, probably, but I was just thinking about how I’d probably have to take this big family trip solo . You have Dad, Lil has her family, and I have no one, and that’s not likely to change in a year, let’s be realistic.” When my eyes rose from my lap, the three of them were staring at me. “I know, stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything. Ugh, how much wine did I have?”
My father chuckled. “Honey, you can always share anything with us, you know that. Wine or not. Feelings aren’t stupid. And whether to go or not is your choice. Lillian hasn’t committed one way or another yet either. But you know, or you should, that you aren’t any more or less valuable to us whether or not you are flying solo.”
“I mean, in theory, but …” I shrugged, trying to keep my expression neutral.
“Well, maybe if he’s not too booked at work, Jack could come as your plus one. I mean, Jack, you’re almost family anyway,” my mother said warmly, smiling at him.
Jack glanced at me with a slight smile. “Of course I would, if that would make Viviana happy.”
I glared at him and snapped, “Jack, be serious.”
His face shuttered, but before he could speak, my father started, “Viv, I don’t think—”
I stood up, raising a hand to silence him and anyone else who might speak more. “I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling well, and I really need to go home. Jack, can you drive? You are still sober, right?”
He nodded, with his brow furrowed as he stood and walked me out in silence.