It’s not something I’m proud of. We always teach Bobby not to give up. And the commenter made a good point. Why should people take cooking lessons from a cooking school dropout?
Anyway, I deleted all the negative comments.
To take my mind off the whole thing, I went to visit Maria at Helena’s. I figured it must get boring for her in the middle of the afternoon. Also, I had an ulterior motive: I wanted to use her discount. There’s a silk scarf that I’ve been admiring at the store for ages, but I just can’t justify how much it costs. I’ll never hear the end of it from Elliot. But with her discount, maybe it will be okay.
I feel intimidated the second I walk into Helena’s, like I always do. It’s strange because Maria herself is not intimidating. But this store is. It’s bright and shiny, with handbags and scarves and shoes and perfumes on little shelves along the walls. The clothing is in the back, and I’m scared to even look at the prices.
My YouTube channel is doing well. It’s made me a minor local celebrity. But I’m not making the sort of money from it where I could drop a couple of grand on clothing. Maybe someday, but not yet.
The store is nearly empty, as I predicted, and Maria is sitting quietly at the desk in the back. The door jingles as it closes, and I notice that a man is standing next to the door wearing a uniform. He’s also built like a linebacker. Security. I guess they need it in a place like this.
“April!” Maria looks thrilled to see me. “What are you doing here?”
“Shopping.” I join her at the desk and rest my purse on top of it. “Also, I thought I’d keep you company. The boys are playing soccer.”
Maria beams. “I know! It’s so cute.”
“Sean is so good with the boys.” I try to keep the jealousy out of my voice. Her husband is not only really sexy, but he’s also a great dad. I definitely wouldn’t say that first part though. “I’m surprised you don’t have half a dozen kids.”
“Actually,” she says quietly, “I can’t have kids.”
I look at her in surprise. “Did something happen with Owen’s birth?”
She hesitates a moment, then shakes her head. “I’m not Owen’s birth mother. His biological mother… died several years ago. He doesn’t even remember her. I adopted him after Sean and I got married.”
“Oh.” The questions swirl around my brain. I had no idea Maria wasn’t Owen’s biological mother. I wonder how Sean’s first wife died, but I can’t ask that. She must’ve been very young though—it was undoubtedly something tragic. “You and Owen look alike.”
She beams. “Thanks. People say that a lot.” She raises her eyebrows at me. “How about you? Are you one and done?”
I toy with the chain around my neck. “Um, not exactly.” I haven’t talked to anyone around here about our fertility problems, but something about Maria makes me feel like I can open up to her. “Elliot wants another baby, but no luck so far. So…”
“I’m sorry! That’s so frustrating. Have you done IVF?”
“No, nothing like that.” God, I can’t even imagine being shot up with hormones. The thought of it makes me ill—I’m afraid of needles. “But we’re off birth-control and… you know, crossing our fingers every month.”
Maria reaches out and pats my hand. “For some people, it can take time. But I’m sure it will happen! You had Bobby, after all. So everything must be working all right.”
“Yes. That’s true.” I sigh. “It’s just that… I know how badly Elliot wants another child. I feel like… I’m letting him down.”
“April, don’t be silly!” She reaches out and squeezes my hand in hers. Her palm is warm and dry. “I’m sure Elliot loves you no matter what. And worst comes to worst, there are tons of fertility treatments out there.”
“Yes, I know…” And now I’m tearing up. “Sorry…”
“Don’t apologize!” She squeezes my hand again. “Do you need a tissue?”
“No, I’ve got one…”
As I rummage around in my purse, looking for a tissue, I hear the jingling of the bell at the door to the store. A customer.
“Do you need to go help her?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Let her browse a bit first.”
I turn to look at the girl who has entered the store. She’s maybe in her early twenties with white-blonde hair and puffy, sexy lips. She looks very familiar. I keep getting this feeling about people—that they look familiar to me. It scares me a bit, considering my mother has early-onset Alzheimer’s. Am I losing my mind? Is this why I can’t remember anyone?
Oh God, that is not a thought I need to be having right now.
She’s looking at one of the Prada purses. She seems awfully young to be able to afford such a nice purse. I wonder if she has a sugar daddy looking out for her. She can’t possibly think she could shoplift with that big guy at the front.
And then it hits me who she is.
“Maria!” I hiss. “That girl…”
Maria frowns and leans in close to me. “You know her?”
“No, but…” I look back at the girl, just to be sure. Yes, I’m sure. “Do you remember Carrie, from soccer practice?”
She nods.
“That’s the babysitter! That’s the one who stole her husband.”
Maria’s lips form an “oh.” She cocks her head to the side. “Poor Carrie! I can’t even imagine how I would feel if some twenty-one-year-old babysitter stole Sean away from me.”
“I know…”
I wonder if Maria gets jealous about Sean. He does seem incredibly loyal to her. But she must realize how attractive he is. And, if I’m being completely honest, he’s far more attractive than she is. I wonder if she could have landed a guy like him if he wasn’t a single dad.
Then I feel guilty for those thoughts. Maria may not be beautiful, but she’s a lovely person. I’m sure Sean likes her for her inner beauty.
Maria chews on her lower lip, watching the babysitter browse the purses. “Maybe I should throw her out.”
“And miss out on the huge commission? Please. You don’t want to have a Pretty Woman ‘Big mistake’ moment, do you?”
“I don’t care about that. Look at her—she’s probably not going to buy anything anyway.” She narrows her eyes. “But it’s not enough, you know?”
“Well, what else could we do?”
A slow smile spreads across her face. “Watch this.”
I watch the whole thing. Maria picks up a necklace from one of the displays, then she goes over to the babysitter, and sweetly asks if there’s anything she needs. The babysitter shakes her head no. And as Maria walks away, she silently drops the necklace into the babysitter’s purse.
Then she returns to the desk, smiling like nothing happened.
“Oh my God,” I breathe. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“And it’s about to get better. Just watch.”
She’s right. A minute later, the babysitter attempts to leave the store. The overhead alarm goes off like there was a break-in at the prison. The bodybuilder pops into action, stepping in front of the door to the store and grabbing the babysitter roughly by the arm.