Chapter 22
Lizanne
The toy store was three blocks from the house.
Pat had suggested it because it was small and independent, which usually meant fewer photographers than the big chains.
That had sounded right at eight in the morning.
By the time they walked in, Lizanne was already second-guessing the bear display and standing in front of a wall of stuffed animals like she was trying to defuse a bomb.
“You’re doing it again,” Pat said.
“I’m looking.”
“You’ve been looking at the same bear for four minutes.”
“They’re all different.”
Pat looked at the bears. They were not different. “Lizanne. It’s a birthday party for a six-year-old. Pick a soft one and let’s go.”
“I want to get it right.”
“I know you do.”
“She already has Biscuit. She doesn’t need another big animal. But something too small looks like I didn’t think about it. And if I overthink it, then it becomes—”
“The diamond necklace situation,” Pat said.
Lizanne straightened her back. “That was a reasonable idea.”
“It was a D-pendant in diamonds for a child who can’t tie her own shoes yet.”
“It was tasteful.”
Pat dipped her head to one side. Lizanne’s cheeks burned. She should have known buying a diamond necklace for Daisy would be a mistake. Thank goodness she had shown her the next necklace beforehand. Lizanne had sent it back to the store the following day.
“Rose’s exact words were—”
“I know what Rose’s words were.” Lizanne moved to the next shelf. “The point is I didn’t know it was too much. I genuinely didn’t know. That’s the problem. I don’t know what kids want. I don’t have a way to gauge it, and I don’t want to get it wrong and have Daisy think I didn’t care.”
Pat was quiet for a second. Then: “Is something going on with you and Rose?”
Lizanne picked up a small brown bear with a yellow ribbon. “Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since the wedding. Mostly.” She set the bear down and picked up another. “She’s been staying over. After Daisy’s asleep, she comes across the grounds. Since her brother stays in the pool house too, its not an issue.”
“And?”
“And I think it’s turning into something.” She said it to the shelf. “I don’t want to mess that up either.”
Pat took the bear from her, looked at it, and handed it back. “You won’t.”
“I forced her into this.”
“You’ve both made plenty of choices since then that had nothing to do with force.”
“I know. I just—” Lizanne set the bear down. “I want to get it right. The bear, the party, whatever this is with Rose. I want it all to be right, and I know that isn’t always my specialty.”
A young sales assistant appeared at Lizanne’s elbow. She looked at the shelf they’d been staring at.
She immediately picked up a cream-colored bear with a soft knitted sweater.
“This one,” she said. “The sweater comes off and goes back on. That’s a big deal for six-year-olds. They like things they can do themselves.”
Lizanne looked at it. It was simple and well-made. The face was sweet without being annoying.
“We’ll take it,” Pat said.
Outside, two photographers were already on the sidewalk across the street. Lizanne saw them first, which gave her three seconds to fix her face before the first lens came up.
“I wanted this to be private,” she said, keeping her pace steady.
“There’s always someone watching,” Pat said.
“I know. I don’t have to like it.”
They got in the car. The photographers got what they wanted—two shots of Lizanne Connors leaving a toy store with a small bag. The internet would do whatever it did with that, and Lizanne decided she wasn’t going to read it.
Pat’s phone rang before they’d gone a block. She listened, said almost nothing, and hung up. Lizanne knew it was the network.
“The wedding episode aired last night,” Pat said. “Highest ratings for a premiere in four years.”
Lizanne looked out at the street.
“They’re asking about Christmas,” Pat continued. “They want a full episode. The decorating, the whole thing. If you can get Rose’s mom to bake cookies, that would be nice too.”
“I have barely spoken to the woman. And I don’t even celebrate Christmas.”
“You do now.”
“Tell them I’ll talk to Rose.” Lizanne watched a woman struggle with a stroller on the curb. “We haven’t even done Thanksgiving.”
“They know. They’re letting Thanksgiving go because of Daisy’s birthday. Christmas is the trade-off.” Pat made a note on her tablet. “You’re doing the birthday on Black Friday, right?”
“Yes. And we’re doing Thanksgiving food at the party anyway.”
Pat nodded, then she pursed her lips. “Say, something else they keep asking me about. What about Daisy’s dad? Any chance he’d make a sudden appearance?”
“No. No way. He took off when she was a little kid. I mean, a baby. Rose hardly ever talks about him other than to say he was a mistake who left her with a mountain of debt.”
“Which is paid off now, thanks to the show.”
Lizanne sighed. “I suppose so. But don’t give me a lecture about how me pressuring her ended up working out to her advantage.”
“Alright then. I’ll just think it.” Pat smiled and played on her tablet instead.
“Uh oh.”
Lizanne looked over. “Oh, oh what? You can’t just oh oh all over my car and not follow up. What?”
Pat held up her phone.
“I’m literally driving.”
“Fine. It’s GTC news. The gossip rag? Headline reads: TRINA HOLMES AND MARCUS LANCE: IT’S OVER.
At the next light, which could not come fast enough, Lizanne snatched the tablet.
There was a photo of Trina in the airport, alone.
Looking miserable. She didn’t even know what to name the mix of feelings that came over her.
Her Gilden Duchess writers would have called that a tempest of feelings.
In the here and now, it was more a tornado.
“When did this happen?” Lizanne asked. She would have read the article, but the light had turned green.
“Last week, apparently. He was in Milan. Someone caught him with another woman and Trina caught him. She flew out to surprise him, apparently.” Pat put the tablet away. “Sources say it’s done.”
Lizanne sat with that. She thought about Trina in the kitchen on that last morning, the smell of her perfume, the way she’d said I’m falling in love with him.
Trina had broken her heart. No…she’d broken the illusion of their life together.
In hindsight, she had made room to let something potentially real come in.
In a way, she felt bad for her. She hadn’t expected that, but she did.
It lasted until she remembered watching that video on her phone and seeing Trina look into the camera like the wedding was just an old chore.
Her hands curled tighter around the wheel as anger surged through her.
“I’m fine,” Lizanne said, before Pat could ask.
“Okay,” Pat said.
When they got back to the house, Pat got into her own car and drove away while Lizanne stood in the driveway with the toy store bag, the afternoon light coming through the trees and the house quiet in front of her.
Then she heard Daisy.
It wasn’t a cry—it was the high, loud pitch of a kid who was happy and wanted everyone to know it. Lizanne followed the noise around the side of the house to the pool.
Rose was in the water up to her waist. Daisy was in front of her in a yellow swimsuit and arm floats, her face set in a look of pure determination. She was splashing her legs in a way that wasn’t quite kicking yet, but she was trying.
Daisy saw Lizanne first. She waved, nearly tipped over, and Rose caught her.
“Come swim!” Daisy shouted.
Lizanne walked to the edge. “You’re learning?”
“Mom is teaching me. You can help.” Daisy looked at her very seriously. “My friend Alfredo has two daddies and they both taught him. So I think it’s right that I have two mommies to teach me.”
The pool went quiet aside from the occasional splash. A bird flew through the trees at the end of the yard.
Lizanne looked at Rose. Rose met her gaze, her hands still holding Daisy, and her expression was completely open. Would Rose correct her? Tell her that Lizanne was not her mother and would never be?
She didn’t. Instead, she smiled.
“I could use some help teaching her.”
“Be right there,” Lizanne said and hurried to get her swimsuit. How odd it was that in the space of half an hour, her old life had tried to haunt her but failed. And her new life lay right in front of her. Just waiting for her to take the next step.