A Year of Second Chances. Buffy Andrews
had opted to attend the same college as Mike and I, and eating at the inn following the graduation ceremony was something each of us had done.
“Where are you?” Tory asked. “Sounds like traffic in the background.”
“I just walked out of a Fitness Fanatic.”
Tory coughed. “What? You were in a gym?”
“Yep. Just joined.”
“But why? I mean, I thought you didn’t like working out.”
“I don’t, but I hate gaining weight more. Long story short, I decided to make some changes in my life. One of which is to get fit.”
“That’s great, Mom. But why the sudden urge to change your life?”
“Lots of reasons. Mostly because I found a bucket list of sorts while helping Grandma and Grandpa pack that I wrote when I was seventeen. I guess looking at all those teenage dreams scribbled on a white napkin taken from a dispenser at the local pizza shop got me thinking about my life.”
“Don’t tell me you’re having a midlife crisis,” Tory said. “Jackie’s dad had one of those and ended up with a broken collarbone after buying a motorcycle.”
I laughed. “I’m not going to do anything as dangerous as that. Maybe run a marathon, but that’s hardly riding a motorcycle.”
“Run? You’re going to run? A marathon?”
“Yeah! Why not?”
“Uh. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you run. Well, maybe when David and I were really little and in trouble. Maybe then you ran to grab us and put us in a time-out. But not run as in arms pumping, feet digging.”
I buckled my seatbelt. “Well, I guess you will now.”
“Does David know?”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll call him as soon as you get off the phone with me.”
Tory laughed. “So is everything set for next weekend on your end?”
“Yes. I’m picking up David at the airport Friday morning and we should be at the university by late afternoon. Your dad is driving up separately, but we’re all staying at the same hotel.”
“Sounds good.”
“Did you buy your graduation gown at the bookstore?”
“Not yet, but I will tomorrow.”
“Tory, you’re such a procrastinator. I would’ve had that hanging in my closet months ago.”
“Why? It would just take up space, and I hardly have enough closet space as it is.”
“Ugh. You’re impossible. It’s not like it’s a puffy winter coat.”
“Oh Mom, stop worrying. If worse comes to worst, I’ll borrow Jackie’s sister’s. She has one since she graduated last year.”
Before hanging up, I reminded Tory to call her grandmother and pulled out of the parking lot onto the highway. I could’ve started my workout right away, but I’d opted to return tomorrow afternoon. I figured the gym wouldn’t be full on a Sunday and Renee had agreed to meet me. Besides, I had to go to the store and buy carrots, celery and a cartload of other good-for-you food. I was determined that, in addition to exercise, I was going to start eating right, too.
I didn’t think I’d ever spent so much time in the produce department at the grocery store. I bought cucumbers, peppers, carrots, tomatoes, strawberries, blueberries and raspberries. I even bought heads of romaine lettuce to chop up for salads instead of buying it prepackaged. Yep! I was turning a new leaf. No pun intended.
“Scarlett?”
I turned round to see my ex carrying a shopping basket. Dressed in jeans and a white button down, he looked handsome, and I wished he didn’t.
I hate men. They get up, throw on a pair of jeans and a tee, run their fingers through their hair and look as if they could pose for the cover of a Harlequin romance. They don’t have to work nearly as hard as women do to look great.
I should’ve known I’d run into someone I knew at the grocery store. It always happens. I plan to get in and get out without being noticed, but I always seem to run into someone when I look my worst. Not only was I not wearing any make-up, but I’d woke up with two zits standing like sentinels on either side of my mouth. Ugh! What forty-nine-year-old still gets pimples? Me! That’s who. I was pretty sure these were stress-related. I was having issues with two co-workers not completing their assignments on time, so I named the pimples after them! Doris and Chuck.
As Mike neared, I smelled his cologne, a scent I’d purchased for him years ago and that he obviously still liked. I waved. “Hi, Mike.”
He glanced at my grocery cart. “I don’t remember you liking vegetables so much.”
I shrugged. “Well, yeah. I didn’t, but I’m trying to make some changes.”
He nodded. “I talked to David and he said you’re picking him up at the airport. Are you sure you don’t want me to?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”
He nodded. “I also talked to Tory and she said she made dinner reservations at the inn.”
“Are you bringing Kelsey?”
Mike shook his head. “I don’t think so. Tory’s never been crazy about her and I thought we’d keep this just family.”
Kelsey had been Mike’s girlfriend for several months. She was seventeen years younger and very needy. Tory called her a “trophy girlfriend” whose biggest concern was what color to tell her technician to paint her nails.
“I’m sure Tory will appreciate that. It’s been a long time since she’s had her dad to herself.”
Mike huffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I rolled my eyes. “Why do you have to take everything so personally? I’m simply saying it’s been a long time since you and Tory shared daddy/daughter time.”
“That’s because every time she comes home she’s with you.”
“Really Mike? Do you really want to go there? She’s with me because there’s been a revolving door of women parading in and out of your condo for the past five years.”
He shook his finger at me. “Well, there wouldn’t be if you wouldn’t have left me.”
“And I wouldn’t have left you if you wouldn’t have fucked your secretary.”
I was a little too loud and an older woman pushing her cart past us turned around and glared at me.
I sighed. “Look, no more fighting. Did you rent the truck for next weekend?”
“Yes. We should be all set to move Tory to New York.”
I felt tears pool in my eyes and nodded. Mike reached out and patted my shoulder. “Look, Scarlett, sorry for arguing. I’ll see you next weekend.”
I waited until he walked away to let the tears flow. I felt stupid standing in the middle of the produce department, bananas on one side and onions on the other, crying. I pulled a tissue out of my purse and blew my nose. A woman who looked to be about my mom’s age noticed and wheeled her cart over. “Everything okay, sweetie?”
I nodded. “The onions get me every time.”
I managed to make it the rest of the way through the store and avoid Mike. I hated that he always looked so good, not a hair out of place. I hated that he always seemed to see me at my worst. Fat clothes, no make-up and bed head. And I hated that I cared he always saw me at my worst. Just once I wanted to feel sexy and beautiful and have him look at me with longing and regret. I wanted him to think, Wow, I really did have a beautiful wife. I screwed