Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
POLLY
To quote a great poet of yore, “The shit hath hitith the fan.”
Drags to Riches by Ann Richter
Narrated by Nikki Martin
B etween Ryla’s party, the interaction with my father, and hiring Jace, today couldn’t have been more surreal.
As I loaded the dishwasher, my mind kept replaying Jace’s Kent the Clown act. He was phenomenal. After a few minutes, he’d had everyone completely absorbed by his performance. I’d had a rare mental image of my mother at one point, as if she was standing and laughing alongside me, nudging me with her elbow, equally impressed.
“What’s that smile for?” Leah asked me, coming into the kitchen.
“Just the day. Thank you so much for helping. And staying overnight. I wish you’d let me pay you, you really don’t have to stay longer,” I told her as I placed the last of the dishes into the washer.
“You can pay me in books!” She turned on the faucet to rinse some dirty plates. “I saw the door to the basement was open and went down there. You must have had some rogue partygoers. I picked up this contraband.” Leah gestured to her hand where she was washing the remains of frosting from a plate. “I’d check the rest of the house just in case.”
“Little hoodlums,” I teased. “Hey, I have a meeting with your friend Rose next week.”
“Already?” Leah asked.
“Yep. I emailed the school district superintendent on Friday with more than a dozen questions. Rose was cc’d on the reply I got back from him. No less than half an hour later I got an email from Rose, herself. It was ten paragraphs long. We set up a meeting for Monday.” I eyed Leah with trepidation. “Her enthusiasm really jumped off the page.”
“That’s Rose for you. You’re gonna love her.” Leah rinsed a dishcloth in the sink. “You kind of disappeared for a little while there at the end. You seemed pretty frazzled when you came back. Everything alright?”
I shut the dishwasher and grabbed the dishrag from her to start wiping down the counters. I had yet to tell Leah about what happened with Jace and my father. “Oh, uh, yeah. I had to tell my father that I hired a nanny which was right after he offered me a mail-order nanny straight from the Tower of London. Words were exchanged.”
“What? You found a nanny! When? Who is it?” Leah asked excitedly.
“Oh, um. Yeah. It’s actually that guy who did the puppet show at the school. Jace Vargas? He was the clown today, too, if you can believe it.” I was too much of a chicken to look at her as I said it. Her answering silence was louder than anything she could shout.
“Did you just say Jace Vargas?” Leah took a step closer to me, pressing into my side.
“Yep!” I continued to avoid her eye contact as I wiped down the counter.
“How do you know Jace Vargas ?”
“Why do you keep saying his full name like that?” I played dumb, which was incredibly stupid of me. You don’t play dumb with Leah. She’s like a shark. Once there’s blood in the water, you get out of the water, fast, or prepare to be eaten.
She eyed me hard, crossing her arms.
I glanced toward the living room where our two youngest kids and Max were happily playing a video game; her husband and daughter had gone home when the party ended. Sighing, I grabbed a towel to dry my hands, knowing I needed to come clean about how I met Jace.
“Look, I didn’t say anything when we were at the puppet show, but I’d met Jace before. He’s been valeting my car at the country club when I had brunch with my father. When I was waiting for Ryla and Max at school this week, I ran into him again and we talked. Then he showed up as the clown today, but I had no idea it was him until I found him in my parents’ old bedroom.”
Leah’s jaw got progressively more slack as my story unfolded.
“Then my father walked in and saw Jace shirtless, and I panicked and shouted that Jace was our new nanny, and now, he’s our nanny.”
Once I was done speaking, she grabbed me by my shoulders and pushed me backward.
“What are you—” I started to ask as she shoved me into the kitchen pantry and shut the door. Crossing her arms, she stared me down from only three inches away.
“Why did you just shove me into the pantry?”
Leah didn’t seem to register my question, suspicion oozed out of her every pore. “Why was Jace shirtless?”
“I don’t know! I found him like that. I’m assuming it’s because his face paint gave him a flesh-eating bacteria,” I deflected.
Leah refused to be derailed. “Who talked to whom first?”
“Today?” I asked, confused.
“No, at the school,” Leah said impatiently, like I was the one not making sense here.
I crossed my arms. “I don’t remember. I think he did.”
“With or without the kids?”
“At first without the kids, then with the kids. He walked with Ryla when Max had a panic attack. He was really good with Ry—hey!” I sputtered as Leah reached out to grab my shoulders.
“Spill it.”
“There is nothing to spill! He was wheeling out his suitcases of puppets, and I talked to him for like five minutes. He was great with the kids and then we all walked out to the parking lot together. I really didn’t know he was the clown until after the party today. That’s it.”
“There’s really nothing going on?” Leah didn’t look convinced.
Scoffing, I shrugged out of her hold. “No!”
Leah raised one eyebrow. “Why didn’t you tell me about knowing him, then, if nothing is going on?”
It was a fair question, but I still looked to the side, adjusting an off center box of noodles to delay my answer. A part of me didn’t want to say anything because I knew she’d know, in that sneaky soothsayer way of hers, that I was attracted to Jace, even though I really didn’t want to be attracted to him. Even though I knew Leah had never given me a reason to think she’d judge me for being attracted to Jace, I still feared her response. Guilt battled with my fear of judgment, halting my explanation, making me open and close my mouth without words.
An understanding expression overcame Leah’s face as she took in my obvious emotional wreck of a state. “It’s ok that you didn’t tell me. I’m your best friend and as your best friend, I will continue to abide by the best friend code. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
“What’s the best friend code?”
“It’s the code wherein I know and accept you no matter what. Like, I know you grew up in an emotionally stunted state where your father held affection for ransom in exchange for appropriate behavior, making you hide your real feelings. It’s why you’re always apologizing, always wanting to give me things in exchange for my help. I know how hard it is for you to show your true self to people. Even to me.”
While Leah’s candor wasn’t atypical, the truth of her words knocked the metaphorical wind out of me. She was right. I’ve held people at arm’s length my entire life. I’d only started to find the courage to be myself in small ways these last few years, which made it all the more difficult to come home and be under my father’s thumb, yet again.
Yet, I never stopped to think what that must be like for Leah, feeling like I was holding her at arm’s length.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Leah.”
She knew what I was apologizing for. I was sorry I kept a part of myself locked away. I’m sorry I didn’t trust our friendship enough to tell her the truth.
No wonder I didn’t have any other friends.
“Please, I’m far from perfect. You still love me even when I forget to text you back for weeks. We’re friendship goals. Not perfect. Not neat and pretty. But the kind that’s real. The kind that shows up with a shovel if you need it, kind of friendship.”
“I don’t know what it is about you Green Valley people that keep threatening to kill for one another . . . but I’m kind of here for it.”
“You’re from here too, lest you forget. It’s our way of showing love.”
I quirked my lips to the side. “I love you, too. Can we get out of the pantry now?”
Leah shook her head, giving a high snickering laugh. “Dear, sweet, innocent Pollyanna.” I glowered at my least favorite nickname, putting my first and second name together—a fact Leah fully knew. “No. I didn’t only bring you in here to interrogate you. You haven’t lived in Green Valley since another lifetime ago, so I’m going to give you the tea, the gossip, and the dirty details.”
Leah was enjoying whatever this was way too much.
“Since all the Winston men went off the market years ago, Jace Vargas has become the town’s new Billy Winston.”
I furrowed my eyebrows. “Who’s Billy Winston?”
Leah waved her hand. “Never mind. My point is, Jace is the unicorn of all the young, single men in town. He’s a gentleman, great with kids of all ages, helps out his parents, and is easy on the eyes.”
I opened my mouth in disgust. “Are you telling me I hired the community bicycle to watch my kids?” I was more upset about this news than I had any right to be. I turned away, absently straightening cans of soup as Leah kept talking.
“Calm down. He doesn’t sleep around. I said he’s a unicorn, not a stud stallion. He’s like . . . the ungettable get. He’s always nice as can be to the kids at school and their parents, but when it comes to single women, particularly the single mommas in town, he’s friendly, but keeps his distance. He had to get permission to come and go through the back doors of school for a time because all the single moms would be out in the front of school, holding casserole dishes or baked goods, trying to get his number.”
Snorting, I looked back at Leah. “You must be joking. Single moms don’t have time for that. Speaking as one, we barely have time to cook for ourselves. We should be cooking food for each other, not for the single men in town.”
Leah laughed and started to straighten the pantry items with me. “I love you and can’t fault you there.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I work in a school. Gossip comes to me like osmosis.”
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me?”
She lowered her voice unnecessarily. We were in a pantry; our kids would never hear us. They have trouble hearing me when I’m standing directly beside them. “People are going to talk. Jace is nice, but he’s laid back. He’s never shown . . . preference, best I can tell.”
Well, color me offended.
“If people think I’m an ogre just because the town’s unicorn doesn’t want me, then good riddance! I’m not interested in a relationship, either. Ever again! I didn’t get divorced just to hitch my wagon to another dead horse.”
I was panting by the time I was done.
Leah burst out laughing, knocking her elbow into mine. “You are on fire today. I love you and how smart you are, but sometimes you can be really obtuse.”
“Maybe I think you’re obtuse,” I retorted in a Ryla-like manner.
“People are going to assume something is going on between you two, not think you’re an ogre. That’s what I’m saying. You’re an insanely attractive, single mother. And he’s going to be living here?—”
"Mooooommmmmaaaa! Where are you? ”
Leah popped her head out of the pantry door. “It’s mine,” she called out.
As she was walking away, I whisper shouted after her. “If you think that the entire town is going to think that there’s something happening between us, just because I hired him to watch my kids . . .”
Leah was no longer in the kitchen.
“. . . then I feel sad for the town!” I finished, whisper shouting to myself.
The thought that Jace would be interested in me—a thirty-eight-year-old, divorced, single mother—was laughable. Which made my reaction to him all the more ridiculous. Take today for instance. He had a red rash all over his face and my body still wanted to mount him like a gazelle in the middle of mating season in the savanna. Sure, he’d been shirtless, but that was no excuse. It made me no different than the single mothers who preyed upon him at the school, like some sort of she-cougar.
Maybe Jace being the kid’s nanny will be for the best. It sets a clear and definite boundary. Like with a patient’s parent, I can notice if they are attractive but never be tempted to pursue anything.
Giving myself a firm nod, I realized I could do this. Attraction was a mere biological response, and I was an expert in controlling my reactions, even if my desires were in direct opposition. Hell, I majored in that. A pure, involuntary, biologically programmed response had nothing on me.
I had my books to keep me warm and satisfied. And I got the job done, every single time.
Take that, National Geographic.