Chapter 2
2
As Beth loaded canned beans on the shelf of the food bank, she saw an older woman hovering by the rice and pasta. Tentatively she reached for a box of spaghetti, only to pull her hand back as if she were afraid of doing something wrong.
A newbie, Beth thought, her chest tightening with sympathy. No doubt she was confused by the rules and a little ashamed to be needing the help. Beth quickly finished with the beans and walked over to greet the woman.
“Hi,” she said cheerfully. “Can I help you?”
The other woman ducked her head. “Um, thank you. I don’t know what I’m allowed to buy.” She flushed. “I shouldn’t even be here. It’s just with my limited income and—”
Beth lightly touched her shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re welcome here. Let me explain how this works.” She pointed to the red tag hanging from the woman’s cart. There was a big 1 on it.
“That’s your group number. Ones are generally a single person or a couple. Throughout the store, you’ll see signage telling you the quantity you’re allowed to take.” She pointed to the sign on the shelf in front of them.
“Group one is limited to one large bag of rice and two boxes of pasta.” Beth smiled at her. “We just got a huge shipment from our distributor. Take the pasta, please.”
The other woman managed a faint smile in return. “It’s just me at home. And my cat. I don’t need very much.”
“Still, we’re a good resource. Stock up. I saw some lovely blackberries in the produce section. Oh, and we have cat food and litter in the pet aisle. Meat and dairy are in the back. We’re low on cheese this week, but there’s lots of chicken.”
She looked at the woman. “It’s okay to be here. No one’s judging you. Honestly, I’m grateful every time I see a full cart of food. This is Malibu. No one should go hungry. We have a reputation.”
“Yes, people assume we’re all rich and famous.”
Beth chuckled. “I don’t need to be famous.”
The other woman laughed. “Me, either, but I wouldn’t say no to rich.” She nodded. “Thank you, dear. You’ve made me feel better.”
“Anytime. If this is going to be your regular shopping day, then you’ll see me next week. I’m here from two until six.”
The woman moved on, and Beth wheeled the empty boxes into the back of the store, where she quickly broke them down and put them in recycling.
She’d started volunteering at the food bank about three months ago, when her business had been closed for the remodel. She’d applied online, passed her background check and been assigned a “training buddy.” She remembered how nervous she’d been during her first session. Jana had immediately put her at ease, showing her what was expected and explaining how to deal with their clients.
The work itself was fairly basic. Beth stocked shelves, swept floors and helped out customers. She worked four hours a week and always left feeling better than when she’d arrived. Something she needed today, she thought grimly. In the past twenty-four hours, her emotions had been on a roller coaster. The shock of seeing the billboard and realizing she hadn’t done anything to have a personal life had quickly morphed to disbelief, then unexpected heartache, followed by an evening of binge-watching episodes of Friends and eating way more ice cream than was healthy. It seemed telling herself she didn’t care that Ian was getting married was a whole lot easier than actually not caring. A frustrating admission because she knew her disquiet had little to do with the man himself and everything to do with what she was and wasn’t doing for herself.
Her third hour into her shift, she spotted Jana loading butter into the cold case and headed over.
“Hi,” she said. “Are we still on for a quick dinner?”
Jana smiled at her. “Yes, please. If you have time.”
“Absolutely. See you at six.”
She returned to her job, happy their plans had worked out. In the past couple of months, she and Jana had started to become friends. At first they’d chatted on their way to their cars. Then they’d started going across the street to grab a quick coffee. A couple of weeks ago, Beth had offered to bring sandwiches so they could eat on the patio in back of the food bank.
She liked Jana and, given her recent revelation about her friendless state, was hoping they could start hanging out more.
Exactly at six, she walked to her car and took out the small picnic basket she’d brought with her. She met Jana on the back patio, where they settled at a table in the shade. Spring in Los Angeles was unpredictable. It could be foggy and sixty for days at a time or unseasonably warm, as it was now. When it was eighty this close to the ocean, it would be over a hundred inland.
But here on a hill, with an in-the-distance view of the ocean, a light breeze and seagulls strutting around, hoping to get a crumb or fallen chip, it was pleasant.
“Next time I need to bring dinner,” Jana told her. “It’s my turn.” She pressed a hand to her belly. “I missed lunch, and I’m starving.”
Beth waved away her comment. “Don’t be silly. I own a sandwich shop. This was easy. I pulled together a bunch of leftovers. It was nothing.”
Jana watched her unload the cooler. “Your ‘it was nothing’ is my gourmet feast.”
“Then you need to get out more,” Beth teased.
Beth set out cans of flavored water, bags of chips, a couple of cookies and two wraps. “Turkey, Brie, walnuts, lettuce, cucumber salsa and a dressing that is my own recipe.”
Jana groaned. “My idea of a sandwich is PB&J.”
“You have a little girl. Kids like familiar food.”
“Yes, and I lack culinary creativity. You’re a master at what you do.”
“Thanks. We actually have a PB&J menu at the shop where we do very interesting things with what should be a classic sandwich. We can grill it or add bacon or even pickles.”
Jana winced. “I get the bacon, but I’m not sure how I feel about pickles in the PB&J.”
“Yeah, not my favorite, either. Whenever we add menu items, we do several tastings, first with the staff, then with a few favorite and trusted customers. I’ll admit there were some faces about the pickles.”
Jana took a big bite of her wrap and groaned. “So good,” she mumbled, still chewing.
Beth let her eat before starting a conversation. She knew that Jana had gotten up early to get her daughter ready for preschool before heading off to community college for classes. After that she would have gone directly to her part-time job. From there, she’d come to the food bank for her weekly shift.
It was a grueling schedule that should have sounded off-putting, only Beth couldn’t help being a little envious. When she’d been married to Ian, having a kid hadn’t seemed like a priority—there was always going to be time. But since the divorce, she’d found herself wanting a family more and more. She didn’t regret not having kids with Ian, but she wished she’d had them with someone.
Unfortunately, remembering that brought yesterday’s billboard encounter right to the front of her mind and made her sigh.
Jana finished the first half of her wrap and wiped her fingers. “That was perfect. Thank you. I’m less starving and can be more civilized now. What’s going on with you?”
“The usual,” she said automatically, before unexpectedly blurting out, “My ex-husband is getting married.”
Jana drew her eyebrows together. “Does that upset you?”
“No,” she said, then paused. “Yes.” She shook her head. “I don’t care that he’s found someone. We’re done. It was just the shock of how I found out and realizing he’s got a personal life and I don’t.”
“How did you find out?” Jana asked. “Through mutual friends?”
“He proposed on a billboard.”
Jana’s surprise was almost comical. “As in ‘will you marry me’ up there for everyone to see?”
“I know, right? Worse, it was by the Costco. That’s romantic.” She considered the location. “I wonder if they met there. Then it would make sense.” She waved her hand. “Whatever the reason, what matters is I wasn’t expecting it, and for some reason, the information is unsettling.”
“Of course it is. Whether you care about him or not, who wants to see his proposal billboard?”
“Thanks. She said yes, by the way. I saw the pictures on Instagram.”
“So you’re torturing yourself,” Jana said lightly. “Maybe it’s time to let the Instagram connection go.”
“You’re right. It’s not I like check in on him. I was just curious this one time.” She sighed. “He looks happy, and she’s happy. There are pictures of his whole family. We used to be tight, back when we were married. They were nice. But it’s not as if they wanted to stay in touch with me after the divorce.”
She hoped she sounded matter-of-fact but had a bad feeling a note of pathetic had crept into her voice.
“I’m totally fine,” she added briskly. “Things are great with me.”
Jana had finished the other half of her wrap and reached for a bag of chips. “I say this with love, but that wasn’t convincing. If you’re totally over him, which I believe you are, then none of this is about him or the wedding. It’s about you and why it’s bugging you.”
Beth nibbled at her wrap. “It was the shock.” She hesitated. “I guess part of it was seeing him with our friends. They used to be our friends, but now they’re his and, I assume, hers.” Her voice trailed off.
Jana nodded. “I get it. I’m doing a thousand things all the time, and I still have moments when I feel lonely. It’s a thing. My life hasn’t exactly been conventional. Before I had Linnie, I moved around a lot. Since then I’ve been scrambling to learn how to be a mom and figure out what I want to do with my life. It doesn’t leave a lot of time for me.”
“You need a longer day,” Beth said. “Just thinking about your schedule exhausts me.”
“What about you?” Jana asked. She waved toward the food. “You’re a sandwich artist, and you love what you do, but from the little you’ve shared with me, you don’t have much of a personal life. You live with your aunt, which is nice. Multigenerational homes are the best. You hang out with your brother every couple of weeks. You volunteer here. But that’s not enough. You need to have things to look forward to. Friends. Possibly a man.”
Beth willed herself not to flush. If Jana, who was firmly in the new friend category, could figure all that out in a matter of seconds, how obvious were her issues? Was she secretly wearing a “pity me, I don’t have a life” sign?
“You’re right, of course,” she murmured. “Only now I feel broken.”
“Not broken. Not for either of us. Just a little misguided with our priorities. Seeing the billboard was a good thing. It allowed you to see what was bothering you in your life, and now you can fix it.”
She was being so nice, Beth thought, and immediately had the strangest urge to blurt out, “Will you be my best friend?” Only she thought that might be a little scary to say and to hear. But she liked Jana. They’d clicked from the start and had laughed their way through her training. Beth always looked forward to their quick dinners together.
“You’re right,” she said. “I need to make changes. The food bank is a start. I really like working here. It’s satisfying.”
“I agree. So, next up would be what? Dating?”
“I’m not the dating type.”
The response was automatic, mostly because she couldn’t imagine going out with someone—only where was that coming from? Why shouldn’t she be happy with someone? Her marriage to Ian had failed, but that was about them, not the institution. There were aspects to being married she’d really liked. Despite how she was currently living her life, she wasn’t by nature a solitary person.
“I don’t believe you.” Jana studied her. “You’re attractive, successful, smart and what? Thirty-five?”
“Thirty-eight, and I’m not smart. I could never do what you’re doing.”
“Medical billing? Yeah, you could. You’re an entrepreneur, so I’m not sure you’d want to, but you could.”
Despite her unease, Beth grinned. “No, go to college. I thought I would, a long time ago, but I’m not college material.”
Jana frowned. “Why would you say that? You run a business. The day I met you, you’d just finished a class to learn the new software system you were having installed. People you’d met there were texting you, asking you questions, and you weren’t the instructor.”
“I understood it more easily than some of the other people. The program is very close to the one I had before. I didn’t have their steep learning curve.”
Jana finished her chips. “I remain unconvinced. Whoever said you weren’t smart was wrong, and you need to get that voice out of your head.”
Beth responded with a smile, thinking that particular voice had only told her the truth to spare her pain. Rick had always looked out for her. He was three years her junior, and practically a genius. When they’d been younger, he’d been the one to help her with her homework. In fourth grade, he’d understood her middle school math better than she had. When she’d asked him about going to college, he’d gently pointed out there was no way she could make it. A good thing, because she loved owning the sandwich shop.
Thinking that reminded her of why she was upset. “You’re right about me not having something to look forward to,” she said slowly. “Emotionally, I’ve moved on from the divorce, but him getting married is a tangible demonstration of how over us he is. I guess I need something similar.”
“Without the billboard proposal?” Jana asked, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t want to judge.”
Beth laughed. “And yet you are. Don’t worry. I’m judging, too.” She lowered her voice. “It was right next to an ad for a personal injury attorney. Really? You know they came by later and took pictures. They’re going to have to edit them for sure.”
Jana grinned at her. “I kind of like your style.” She leaned forward. “Okay, just say the first thing that pops into your head. What have you always wanted to do but never let yourself?”
“Learn to ride a horse.”
Beth had no idea where the unexpected statement had come from, and she immediately tried to call it back. “No, that’s silly. There’s no purpose in horseback riding.”
“So? It sounds like fun. Why haven’t you done it before?”
An interesting question. Beth considered her answer. “I wanted to when I was a kid, but Mom never believed in doing normal things. She would have wanted me to learn bull riding instead. When I was an adult, there didn’t seem to be time or money. Once Ian and I were married, I guess I forgot I wanted to learn.” She paused. “I really don’t have an answer.”
“Maybe it’s something you should consider doing just for you.”
“Maybe.” Beth wasn’t sure she ever did anything just for herself.
“Was the divorce bad?” Jana asked. “I know sometimes they can be really hard to get through.”
Beth shook her head. “No. We were both reasonable.” She hesitated, not sure if she should say more. Except for her aunt, no one knew what had really happened at the end of her marriage.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Jana told her. “I wasn’t trying to pry.”
“Oh, I know that. It’s not you. I guess sometimes it’s hard for me to share personal stuff.” But she found herself wanting Jana to know. “It wasn’t the divorce itself that hurt so much. It was how we got to that place. Ian came to me and said he wasn’t happy. He didn’t know if he wanted to try to fix things or not. I had no idea he wasn’t okay with us, so I was in shock.” She shook her head. “Actually, I was scared. I didn’t want to lose him or us. I liked being married to him.”
“I’m sorry. What happened?”
“We agreed to do all the things. Counseling, long walks on the beach, writing in a gratitude journal.” She opened her bag of chips, but didn’t eat any as she remembered how she’d thrown herself into connecting with her husband.
“It was a tough couple of months, but I knew it would be worth it. We started having more sex and laughing together. It was working, or so I thought.”
Jana groaned. “Oh, no! He didn’t agree with you?”
“Nope. We met with our counselor to assess where we were. I went on and on about how wonderful everything was and how I was so much more in love with Ian than I’d ever been.” She drew in a breath and ignored the sense of having been a fool. “He said he hadn’t changed his mind. He was still unhappy, and he wanted a divorce. I moved out two days later.”
“I’m so sorry. No wonder his getting married is bothering you. How dare he be happy!”
Beth managed a smile. “I’m over him. It took a while. The remodel helped by being a really big distraction.” One she’d been grateful for. “I don’t think about him or us or want to go back.” She thought about what her friend had said. “But you’re right. I haven’t made much of a life for myself. Seeing the billboard was a wake-up call. I’ve made good changes in my business. Now it’s time to make a few changes for myself.”
“Absolutely.” Jana raised her can of flavored sparkling water, and they toasted. “Good for you. Think about the horse thing. Oh, and the next time a hunky guy asks you out, say yes.”
“There aren’t any hunky guys hanging around. But should one appear, I’ll consider it.” She smiled. “Okay, enough about my drama. How are you doing?”
Jana pressed her hands to her chest. “I’m loving Dex Thursday.”
“Excuse me? What’s a Dex Thursday?”
Jana laughed. “That’s right. You don’t know about my odd little family. Dex is my brother Teddy’s best friend. They’ve been finishing each other’s sentences since they were nine. Dex had some issues with his folks, so he moved in with us.” She frowned slightly. “I guess he was maybe fourteen when that happened. Anyway, he’s like another brother to me, and he’s an uncle to my brother’s kids and to Linnie.”
She took a bite of her cookie. “A few months after Teddy lost his wife, Dex started taking his kids to hang out at his place on Thursday nights. They order in and watch movies. It became a thing. Well, Linnie’s been seeing this and begging to go, but I thought she was too young. When she turned four, she announced she was more than ready to be with her cousins. Dex agreed, and now we have Dex Thursdays. He picks Linnie up from preschool, gets Teddy’s kids and does his thing.”
She glanced at her watch. “He has them home by seven thirty.”
Beth stared at her. “Wait a minute. You’re saying Thursday afternoon is the only day of the week you don’t have your daughter, and you’re using your free time to volunteer at the food bank?”
Jana looked surprised by the question. “I was volunteering before, but I had to arrange for childcare. This makes it easier.”
“You’re a better person than I am,” Beth murmured.
“Hardly. I have to volunteer. It’s kind of in my blood. My parents are currently in Africa with their church, building a school. It’s how Teddy and I were raised.” Jana waved her hand. “You’re making it more than it is. Besides, you’re a giver, too.”
“I volunteer four hours a week, and I’ve only been doing it a couple of months. That hardly makes me a giver.”
“No way. I don’t agree.” Jana’s voice was firm. “You brought me dinner. A couple of weeks ago, I mentioned how I went directly from my last class to my job and there wasn’t ever time to get lunch. You instantly wanted to feed me. You’re very much a giver—you simply show it differently.”
Beth squirmed at the praise. “It was a sandwich.”
“Technically, I believe it was a wrap, and it was delicious. You saw someone in need and you responded. You should give yourself a little credit.”
“Not something I’m comfortable doing,” she said before she could stop herself. “And here we are talking about me again. Your turn for a little psychoanalysis. Why do you deflect the conversation from yourself?”
She asked the question lightly, as much to tease as to seek information. She liked Jana and wanted to get to know her better.
“I’m a single mom who’s working part-time and going to college. I spend every second of every day scrambling. I find your life calm and serene.” Jana laughed. “Something I can only aspire to.”
Calm and serene? Did she really mean boring? Because that was how Beth was starting to feel about herself.
“Calm is overrated. Embrace the chaos.”
“I’m trying.” Jana drew in a breath. “Okay, I’m just going to say it. I haven’t told anyone yet, and I don’t know how I feel about it.”
Beth leaned forward. “Now I’m intrigued.”
“A guy at work asked me out, and I said yes.” Jana shook her head. “I don’t date. I had a really horrible breakup about a year ago. It was shattering. Before that, I was dealing with being a new mom and figuring that out. I want to do the right thing for my daughter. I want to be strong and a role model.”
Beth didn’t understand. “Why would you worry about that? Look at all that you’re doing. You’re admirable.”
“I’m not. I’ve screwed up a bunch. In the past—with guys. In high school, my teachers begged me to consider college. They wanted to help me get into a really great school, but I said no. I wanted to take a different path. So here I am, pushing thirty, living with my brother, working part-time, dealing with classes and my four-year-old. Sometimes I think I’ve done it all wrong.”
“You haven’t. I’ll remind you, I’m living with my aunt. And hey, you said multigenerational households were the best.”
“I was trying to make myself feel better.”
Beth had to admit she was a little relieved to find out Jana wasn’t perfect, but she didn’t like her friend having doubts.
“You deserve a little fun in your life. If you like the guy, go for it.” She paused. “By that I mean go out on the date. Not, you know, go for it in any other sense.”
Jana grinned. “You mean no sex on the first date? I agree.”
“You said you work with him? Is dating allowed?” Beth didn’t know the ins and outs of corporate policy when it came to dating, and she’d never had to deal with an interoffice romance at Surf Sandwiches.
“Oh, it’s not that. The derm office is in a medical building. The guy isn’t from the practice. He works in another one.” Her smile softened. “He’s sweet and funny. Very attractive. I told myself not to give in, but he said he thought I glowed.”
Beth felt a whisper of envy way deep down in her gut. No man had ever said that about her. “You absolutely have to go out with him.”
“That’s what I thought.” The smile returned. “He wears a suit. I’ve never dated a man who even owns a suit.”
“Ah, so he’s successful.”
“Very,” Jana said, her voice teasing. “Hmm, maybe I should embrace the whole ‘when in doubt, marry money’ thing.”
Beth grinned as she raised her can of sparkling water. “Absolutely. To the rich guy. May he fall madly in love with you.”