Twenty-Three #2
“Penny, is everything okay?” Valerie’s heart skipped a beat because why would Penny call unless someone was hurt? Or maybe it wasn’t bad. Perhaps she wanted to chat. That meant she liked Valerie. She sat up a bit straighter in the seat.
“Yes, yes, I called to confirm your mother’s phone number since you didn’t give it to me.
No one is answering the one I found, nor is anyone at her school office.
Rather unprofessional. Roger is being tedious about this whole thing but a good mother-to-mother chat will clear up any bad air.
As the family matriarch, it’s my job to do it. ”
Valerie sat in horror as Penny read out her mother’s unlisted number. This was a disaster. Nico pulled off to the side of the road and they stared at each other over the outstretched phone.
Hang up, he mouthed.
She’ll call back, replied Valerie silently.
“Valerie, is that correct?”
She tried to buy some time. “That’s so funny! People always get that number wrong.”
“Then what’s the correct number?”
More dual wide-eyed stares were shared across the car.
“Valerie? Surely you know your own mother’s phone number.”
“Well, we usually text,” said Valerie weakly. Nico closed his eyes.
“I see. Then look it up. And give me the number. Or perhaps I should try your father?”
Valerie was helpless in the face of a direct request. She gave Penny a number.
“Thank you.”
Penny hung up and Nico stared at her. “Was that actually your mom’s number?” he asked.
“No.” She was dialing frantically. “It’s Ruth’s. My old boss.”
“What?”
Luckily, Ruth answered on the second ring. “Ruth Leacock.”
“It’s Valerie. I need a Rule Eight.”
“Hit me,” said Ruth.
“First, I’m sorry.”
“Get to the point. Rule Eight means time is of the essence.”
“Penny Badgerton-Willis will be calling you because she thinks you’re my mother. The reason she thinks that is because she has my mother’s actual number and I lied and said it was wrong because I don’t want them to talk. I gave her your number instead.”
“I understand,” said Ruth, eternally unflappable.
“She’s going to ask about me, and possibly about my adoption. She’s going to ask you to come to the Mariposas so she can get to know you better, since she thinks you’re my adopted mother. I mean, not you. My mom. Who she will believe is you.”
“Continue.”
“I need you to pretend to be my mother and refuse in a devastatingly polite way that will stop her from trying to contact my family again and also continue her belief I was adopted. I was not.”
“Is that it?”
“As background, my parents are long divorced and never talk. Mom’s new husband is Matt. My father is Scott, in case it comes up. My fake biological father is Roger Badgerton, Penny’s youngest brother. This is all confidential.”
“What’s my name as your mother?”
“God, sorry. Anna Peng. You are Chinese.”
“Then I should avoid a video call. Do I have an accent?”
“No, you were born here.”
A faint beep came through the line. “It looks like that might be her now,” said Ruth. “I’ll call you back.”
Ruth disconnected and Valerie dropped her arm down, aching from holding the phone between them. She felt sick. Nico stared at her. “Rule Eight?”
“Ruth built her events business on what she calls her rules for success. Rule Eight is Take control to do what needs to be done, even if someone will be mad.” She groaned. “I thought Roger talked to Penny.”
“He did.” Nico drummed his fingers on the door. “What if she calls your father as well?”
Valerie rubbed her eyes, knowing she was further smearing the residue of yesterday’s waterproof mascara. “I suppose we deepen the web of lies.”
“What are you going to tell him?”
Valerie stared out the bug-splattered window at the cars whizzing by on the two-lane road. “Aliens are calling to subvert his brain-wave patterns and to stay away from all communication devices?”
“Or we say that your email was hacked, and to ignore any requests, especially if the person says they know you. You planted the scammer seed after Penny first suggested this, right?”
Valerie looked impressed. “I did. I like it. My grandmother nearly got caught by some online scammers, so he was already on alert for that. I can tell him to delete them right away without reading.”
Her father wasn’t answering, so Valerie left a message for him and one for her stepmother, then did the same for her mother and stepfather.
She handed the phone back with a huge sigh of relief. “Done.”
Ruth called back a minute later. “That was a very entitled woman, and I have extremely entitled clientele. She had the nerve to question me. Me!”
“I believe it.”
“I said I had no need to get to know her and furthermore did not plan to explain myself to a stranger. Also that I hoped she treated my lovely daughter with a modicum more respect than she was showing me.”
“What did she say?” asked Valerie as Nico’s shoulders shook in silent laughter.
“All she said, was, ‘I’m Penny Badgerton-Willis,’ as if that was a reason. What is the matter with people?”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not going to ask what’s going on, although I do wish to hear this story one day. I’ll tell you if she calls again, but I don’t think she will.” Ruth sounded satisfied.
“I appreciate this.”
Ruth paused. “You never called a Rule Eight when you were working for me,” she said. “I’m glad to see you do it.”
Valerie whoofed out her breath once she was off the call. “Ruth saved the day.”
Nico held up his phone. “Roger said that Penny walked by, furious. He’s going to talk to her again when she calms down.”
He started the car and they drove for a few minutes, reveling in the feeling of having dodged a Penny-shaped bullet. Then Nico said, “What did Ruth mean by never calling a Rule Eight?”
“She always said I needed to learn to stand up for myself when I thought things were going bad. That’s part of Rule Eight—having the confidence to say No, that’s not how things should be and to take action.”
“Ah.”
“I nearly called one,” she said. “It was a wedding and a groomsman was drunk. Like, really bad. Turns out he’d been in love with the bride for years. I was scared of confronting him or doing anything and Ruth was busy.”
“What happened?”
“It got super chaotic and when Ruth saw what was going on, she took charge. Stopped everything and told the groom. Put the guy into a room away from the wedding and had someone watch him. She asked me later what happened and why I didn’t call it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
She sighed, remembering how she felt. “I was worried about freaking out the bride, who was already close to a panic attack. I didn’t want people mad at me so I tried to fix it myself by talking to the guy.”
“That’s reasonable.” He reached out to hold Valerie’s hand, and squeezed it gently. “You did it today, though,” he pointed out.
“I did.”
“How did it feel?”
“Good.” She reconsidered. “I mean stressful as hell, but yeah. I made the call.”
She lifted her free hand and he slapped it in a high five.
“You don’t mess with Ruth,” she said.
“Or you.” He lifted her hand and kissed the palm.
Valerie looked at him in surprise. He’d said it with such admiration that her breath caught. “Thanks.”
Still holding hands, they drove down the long straight road, back to the heart of Badgertonia.