Chapter 5
The man behind the bar was young, and based on his English accent, I decided he was probably a backpacker who had come to town for the fruit-picking season. I was just glad he was someone I didn’t know.
I angled my chair, and through the mirror that ran the length of the back wall behind the bar, I saw the group of ladies seated in the red lounges in the far corner.
Five women were grouped there, and I recognized all of them. We’d all gone to school together. Vikki sat regal, like a lady at high tea. Her long blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders in a style that hadn’t changed in the twenty years I’d known her.
Nicole now had short dark hair, but her full bright, red lips hadn’t changed. She’d discovered the retro fashion style decades ago and had been embracing it ever since.
Alice had a young child on her knee, and as she hadn’t been pregnant when I left, I assumed the child must be about three years old. Tiffany also had her daughter with her, who I knew would be at least seven.
And then there was Chelsea-Lea. Aunty Ann had definitely played down the demise in Chelsea-Lea’s looks. Her hair, once smooth and golden, was now wild and frizzy, reminiscent of a bad 1980s perm, and the dark skunk-stripe through the middle part highlighted just how far she’d let herself go. Her skin was pale, and even from this distance, I spied red blotches on her face.
My martini arrived, and I sipped the liquid courage, slowly waiting for the perfect moment to approach my old friends.
It came barely two sips later when the group of girls burst out laughing. I turned and made a show of looking at who was having so much fun in the corner.
When Vikki caught my eye I waved, stood up, grabbed my martini, and headed in their direction.
As a whisper broke out between them, I stuck my chest out, sucked my tummy in, and strode across the wooden floor as if it were a Paris Fashion runway.
“Hello, ladies.” A couple of them had confused looks on their faces, maybe pretending not to know who I was, so I flicked my hair back as if doing a big reveal. “It’s me. Jane Nichols.”
Five sets of eyes flicked over my body. This moment had been nearly four years in the making, and every second was pure gold.
“Jane, how lovely to see you again.” Nicole was the first to stand. She stepped toward me, and we kissed each other’s cheeks.
Three of the other four women followed Nicole’s lead. Chelsea-Lea, however, continued to rock her baby in her arms, declining to stand. The child was dressed head to toe in shades of blue and had dark curly hair and chubby red cheeks. Her little boy looked nothing like her.
When the women sat again, I lowered my eyes to Chelsea-Lea. “You and Alexander must be so happy.”
Straight for the jugular.
The other four women all dropped their jaws to resemble clowns at a cheesy sideshow game.
Chelsea-Lea cleared her throat. “Xander and I broke up months ago.”
“Oh, I hadn’t heard. That’s a shame.” I loaded my words with sarcasm.
I bent over, getting a better look at the baby. “Wow, he looks so much like Alexander,” I said, even though the baby bore no resemblance to him at all.
Chelsea-Lea squirmed and clenched, then unclenched her jaw, and the other four women were a combination of bulging eyes and gaping mouths.
Enjoying Chelsea-Lea’s obvious discomfort, I sipped my martini and then smiled a cute, unassuming smile at the other ladies as I awaited her response.
“Xander isn’t the father.” Chelsea-Lea finally broke the silence.
“Oh, really? Who is?”
The rash on her neck multiplied before my eyes. “That’s none of your business.”
“You’re right!” I cocked my head. “Just like Alexander was none of your business when I was engaged to him.”
Chelsea-Lea shot me a death stare, then she handed her baby over to Nicole and launched to her feet. With her hands on her abundant hips, she squared off at me.
I casually sipped my cocktail, however, my insides curled as tight as a metal spring.
“Alexander never loved you.” She scrunched her face, making her even more unattractive.
I tilted my head, making a show of running my eyes over her plump body. “I know,” I said with the lack of indifference it deserved. “He never loved you either!”
She stepped toward me, and I held my palm in her face. “Before you think of doing anything stupid, I must warn you I’m a green belt in karate, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
The four ladies in the peanut gallery gasped.
Chelsea-Lea, however, took a tentative step forward, her jaw clenched. “You don’t belong here anymore.”
I nodded. “At least you and I agree on one thing.” I glanced around her. “Nice to see you again, ladies.”
With one final sip of my martini, I placed the glass down, then I calmly eyeballed Chelsea-Lea. “Love what you’ve done to yourself.”
She lashed out, her clenched fist aimed straight for my nose, but I gripped her hand in mine and bent it back until she fell to her knees, screaming.
Vikki and Nicole stood up, hands over their mouths.
As I held Chelsea-Lea at my feet, I bent over and looked right into the red spider veins in her eyes. “Slut.”
The other girls gasped, and I flung Chelsea-Lea’s hand aside.
I stood back, flicked my ponytail back over my shoulder, and with a broad smile, I nodded at my old friends. “Goodbye.”
I turned, and as my high heels tracked my departure across the wooden floor, their high-pitched chatter filled the room. I wiped my sweating palms down my thighs, and my heart pounded as I strode out of the Milk Bar Café.
But once I was outside, I smiled the beautiful, broad smile that came with sweet revenge.
“Jane!” A high-pitched voice sounded behind me, and I turned as Vikki scurried my way.
“What do you want, Vikki?”
“I . . . I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
I put my fists on my hips. “Oh? What for exactly? Fucking Alexander?” I didn’t normally say that word aloud, but once I watched her reaction, I was glad I had.
Her eyes darted about, and a flush of red blazed her cheeks. Finally, she shook her head. “Yes. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you for your apology. But don’t expect me to forgive you—what you did was despicable.”
“I know.” She lowered her eyes to the road. “I know.”
Capitalizing on her discomfort, I asked the burning question. “So, who is the father of the baby?”
Her eyes darted to mine. Small-town gossip was her specialty. “We don’t know. Even Chelsea-Lea doesn’t know. They have to do paternity tests to find out who’ll pay child support.”
I scrunched my nose, showing my disgust. “How many men?”
“Three. Two of them were married.”
I shook my head. “She doesn’t deserve to have friends.”
Vikki shrugged. “She’s better to have as my friend than my enemy.”
Maybe that was true, but it wasn’t something I could ever do. “That poor baby.”
Vikki sighed, and I took that as my cue to walk away.
“Jane,” she called from behind me, and I turned back to her. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you.” I spun on my heel, and the sweet revenge smile was back on my face, and remained there all the way up the main street.
Mom was loading the car with groceries as I arrived. “Oh, did you have a lovely time with Chelsea-Lea?”
I nodded. “It was interesting.”
As we drove home, Mom continued her monologue about what needed to be done for the party. We arrived and unpacked the groceries. Mom, Dad, and I spent the evening working through Mom’s abundant list of trivial things she wanted done. By the time I retired to my bedroom, I was exhausted.
Alone at last, I replayed in my mind the joy I’d felt over bringing Chelsea-Lea to her knees. I’d never intended our confrontation to end like that, but in hindsight, not only was it almost to be expected, given her hot-headedness, but it was also perfect.
I crawled under my covers, and deeply satisfied with my encounter with my ex-best friend, sleep came quickly.