Fat Chance (33 page)

Waiting for Janet to pick up the call, I listen to the ringing on the line, propping my feet on the edge of my desk. Micah and I are on lunch break, and he's gone off to chat with his girlfriend, so this is a perfect time to invite Janet to meet Drew. If she ever answers.

"Hey, you!" Janet suddenly exclaims, breezing through the door of my office.

"Well, I was just calling you," I say, dropping my feet and walking over to hug her.

"I know," she laughs, waving her phone at me. My face smiles out from the screen, though the ringing has been silenced. "I wanted to surprise you," she says.

Slipping her giant shoulder bag from her arm and placing it on my desk, she begins pulling out little packages from a little burger diner down the street. Reaching out one dainty ankle, she draws a chair closer and sits down. "I brought lunch for my kid," she says with a grin.

"Thanks!" I exclaim, pulling my own chair around the side of the desk to sit with her.

"Well, I wanted to ask about how things are going, and I know you've been busy with Drew, so I thought I'd come catch you here when you have some down time for lunch."

"Things are good," I say, ripping the paper from a straw and popping it through the top of a cup she hands me. "Really good."

"Rick came to my house," she says, opening a straw for herself. "He said he talked to you."

"He did," I say, smiling. "I think he was afraid to, but he happened to see Drew and me at the mall and he came up, asking me to talk."

"Oh, he didn't mention Drew. Were they okay, meeting like that?"

"I thought so," I answer, nodding. "Drew went walking so that Rick and I could talk, and it went well. Drew came back as we were finishing up, and they shook hands before Rick left."

"I see. And how are you and Rick now?"

"I think a little better," I answer, accepting the carton of tater tots Janet pushes across to me. Dunking one into a puddle of ketchup, I watch Janet, waiting to see if she will tell me how her visit with Rick went.

"That's good, he seemed a lot more peaceful when I saw him," she says, unwrapping a burger. "He said he felt better, after talking to you. You gave him your therapist's number?"

"I did. I just mentioned something about my therapist being able to help me get over stuff, and I guess he didn't know I'd been seeing someone. Rick said he'd been thinking of seeing someone himself, so I gave him a card for Dr. Caswell."

"That's nice of you, Cass," Janet says, gesturing with her Styrofoam cup. "Do you think he'll call?"

"I have no idea," I say, shrugging.

"Okay," she says, swallowing a bite from her burger. "Tell me about the man. You've been seeing him for some time now, haven't you?"

"Yeah, he's been staying with me since he was shot, kind of, um, recuperating. He should be back to work soon though."

"And how are things going with him?" Janet asks, choosing to ignore the fact that I've obviously been sleeping with Drew.

"Things are good. I want you guys to meet," I say, popping another tater tot into my mouth.

"Well that's good," she laughs. "Are you serious, then?"

"I think so," I say. "We'll just see how things go, I guess."

"So when do I meet him?" she asks, waiting while I chew a bite from my own burger.

"He wants you to come with us to this little fondue place that he likes," I say after taking a drink to rinse my mouth. "Maybe this weekend if you can come up again that soon?"

"Oh, I'll be there," she says, laughing.

We chat a while longer, sharing our lunch, and all too soon, Micah taps on the door of my office. "Ready to get back to the grind soon?" he asks, grinning.

"Absolutely. Give me a few more minutes," I answer, swallowing the last bite of my burger as Janet finishes packing the garbage into a paper sack. She drops it into my garbage can, while Micah leans on the wall in the hallway.

"Call me with the details," she says. "And if there's anything special I'm supposed to wear or bring."

"I will," I assure her, leaning in to give her a farewell hug. "I should be able to call tonight, once I get home and talk to Drew about when he goes back to work and stuff."

"That's fine," she says, her eyes sparkling as she looks into my face. "You're happy with him, aren't you?"

"I am," I say, smiling. "I really am."

"Well, I can't wait to see," she giggles, and then she's gone.

Watching Janet drive up, I stand and wait by the door of the restaurant to meet her. Drew has gone inside already to secure our table, and of course, to order drinks and appetizers. She exits her car looking nervous, walking to the door with her cell phone in her hand, but her face lights up when she sees me. Giving a little squeak of surprise, she quickens her pace and comes to me, smiling.

"I was just wondering how I was going to find the two of you in this big place!" she exclaims, and I laugh, because the atmosphere inside is such that it feels like a very tiny and intimate place.

"Well, I will be your guide, then."

Janet pats the fabric of her dress, drawn close to her slender waist by a wide black belt. "Is this fine?" she asks.

"Of course, you look great!" I answer. "Drew is inside already; I told him what you like to drink, so he's ordering drinks and some food, waiting for us. We didn't want you to have to come in and find us."

"Oh, the poor guy, I bet he looks lonely in there at a table all by himself."

"Either that, or he looks really odd sitting there, obviously a man, with my purple purse and coat sitting beside him," I laugh.

Janet giggles, amused as always by my joking nature. "Well, maybe they'll just think he's got multiple personalities then, what with all the drinks and everything."

"When we go in, maybe we'll wait for the server to come, and then start calling him Helga to see what he does," I laugh, knowing I wouldn't embarrass Drew that way, but still terribly amused by the idea.

"Let's hope he doesn't pick up your purse and go along with it," Janet laughs, following me through the doors and toward our table.

"Imagine the look on the waitress!" I whisper, drawing close to the table and easing down next to Drew. Janet slips into the booth across from us, laughing to herself at the confused look Drew gives us.

"Imagine the waitress, what?" he asks, sending Janet into a fit of helpless giggles.

"Helga," she manages, between bursts of laughter.

Drew looks over at me, and I feign confusion, but he's not buying it. "What have you said to her?" he says, lowering his voice and trying to sound stern.

"I'll have to tell you later," I whisper, watching the waitress as she makes her way to our table.

Janet is already buried in a menu, and we ask for a few minutes to confer, but end up ordering the same things we'd ordered on our first date there.

"So, Andrew," Janet says, giving him her most stern motherly look, resolutely ignoring me as I snort with laughter. Drew looks over at me, his eyes twinkling with laughter, but he arranges his face to look appropriately sheepish, before he turns back to Janet.

"Yes, ma'am?" he asks, leaning back and folding his hands tamely in his lap.

"I don't know how to do this whole thing," Janet says, blushing. "My husband would have given you the third degree, if he were here. Cass is rather important to our family."

"She has grown rather important to mine already, also," he says, and Janet smiles.

"But, let me help you," he continues. "I'm an officer for the city; I've been on the job since I was about twenty. This is my first job, though I've moved up a bit, and I love it as much as I ever did, war stories and all. I come from a big family with five children, three boys and two girls, and I'm right in the middle."

"Wow, that is a big family, now isn't it? What are their names?" Janet asks, folding her hands under chin and leaning forward to pay attention. Smiling to myself, I sit back quietly and watch.

"Well, the oldest is my sister Cameron, followed closely by my brother Michael. Then there's me, my sister Harmony, and the youngest brother, Evan. My parents have known each other since they were children themselves, so it's a pretty close bunch."

"And how do they all feel about my girl, here?" Janet asks. I fill with silent embarrassment, because Drew knows the question behind the question. Any other man might think she was only asking if his family likes me, but as we met through therapy, Drew is well aware that what she's really asking is if his family will mistreat me or reject me because of my less-than-perfect past.

"They love her," Drew answers, his face and tone perfectly calm. His intent is to answer both the spoken question and the unspoken one, and I can tell by the way Janet relaxes, that he has succeeded. "My parents adore her, and my sisters both ask about her often. My brothers both tell me to be careful or they'll steal her," he says, breaking into a laugh.

"Well, I can't say I've ever met a woman who didn't like to be adored," Janet says, winking at me. "And how do you feel about her?" I feel my eyes grow large, begging silently for Janet to stop asking questions like that. And as my face heats with embarrassment, Drew settles his arm heavily around my shoulders.

"I adore her too," he says, and Janet smiles.

The rest of dinner passes peacefully, and we laugh together, sharing our meal companionably. By the end of the evening, Janet and Drew are like old pals, making jokes and small talk as if they've known each other all their lives.

And me? I'm just thrilled. Finally, it looks like my life is going where I've always wanted it to go.

"What is her problem?" Drew asks, dropping my keys on the chair by the door. We've just come home from a light jog; as we walked together, sweating and panting through the doors of the stairwell, we passed my grouchy neighbor, Estelle.

"Well, I never!" she'd exclaimed, her hand to her heaving bosom. She'd looked us over, her face turning ever more crimson, and then slammed the door to her apartment with a resounding thud.

"I don't know, maybe she thinks we're living in sin or something," I laugh. "You know, I bet she's utterly scandalized by our wanton behavior."

"Oh no!" Drew exclaims, throwing himself dramatically against the wall. "Whatever will we do? How will we stop the tongues from wagging?"

"Oh, my God, Drew, I bet I know what she was thinking," I mutter, dropping into a dining room chair. "Oh that poor woman."

"What?"

"Well, here come two people, a girl and a guy, sweating and heaving and laughing, out of a stairwell? Somehow, I doubt her first guess would be that we've gone running."

Drew watches me for a moment, realization slowly dawning on his face, slowly breaking into laughter. His lip trembles slightly, and then he's grinning; soon he's roaring outright, bending at the waist with one forearm braced against the wall, the other clutching his middle because sometimes it still hurts him to laugh.

"What a perverted old lady," he gasps, trying to get his laughter under control. "She really thinks that?"

"Probably. Didn't you see her face?"