Once Upon a Project (41 page)

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Authors: Bettye Griffin

BOOK: Once Upon a Project
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“Well,
that
was a lucky break,” Micheline said now. “I'm sure you were only too glad to offer comfort and a shoulder to cry on to the boss during his time of trouble. And look what ended up happening,” she concluded brightly.
It was all Suzanne could do not to smash Micheline's face into the bowl of cheese dip she'd just refilled. Micheline had her figured like a chess move. She knew how Suzanne had schemed to land Brad and was making fun of her.
Suzanne managed to control her temper and get to her point. “Well, it all happened a long time ago. We've been married sixteen years,” she said, her voice steady with pride.
“Sixteen! My, my. How old are your children, Suzanne?”
“Our son is fifteen and our daughter is thirteen.”
“Wow. They're almost grown up. When you said you were a stay at home mom, I imagined your kids were much younger. It's been what, eight or ten years since they started school?”
Once more Suzanne's hackles were raised. Micheline was getting bolder. She'd practically come out and called her a lazybones for staying home while her children were teenagers. Suzanne straightened her spine, her shoulders back and chest out.
If it's war she wants, it's war she'll get.
“It's true they're older, but there's still plenty to do. My son plays basketball, and my daughter and I go to most of his games in the afternoons. And I like to be there to watch my daughter run track. Besides, with me being home and then knowing I'll be home after they get out of school, there's no hanky-panky with friends of the opposite sex. Teenagers can get into all kinds of trouble when they're not supervised.” She smiled and smugly said, “But of course, you have to be a mother to understand that.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” Micheline clapped her palms against her hips after setting down more dishes from the refrigerator. “That's everything. Can you help me carry these to the table, Suzanne?”
“Sure. That's why I'm here.” She sounded as cheerful as she felt.
She'd just put her hostess in her place.
Chapter 2
“N
ice couple, huh?” Brad remarked as he climbed behind the wheel of the Cadillac SRX he'd downsized to after turning in his massive, gas-guzzling Escalade.
“Charming.” Suzanne had to fight to keep the sarcasm she felt out of her voice. All the bad vibes she initially detected from Micheline Trent came back after their encounter in the kitchen, and this time they were there to stay. No one in attendance was as happy as Suzanne when the game ended and they could leave. As uncomfortable as she felt around Brad's first wife Lisa Canfield, Suzanne would have preferred to have spent the evening with her and Darrell than with that slinky bitch, Micheline. At least Lisa only spoke to Brad in English . . . and she didn't flirt with him at all. “Uh . . . is this your first time meeting Micheline?”
“No, I've met her a couple of times before. She comes to the club and meets Errol for dinner. Sometimes she plays.”
Suzanne's acknowledgment came out as a grunt. Another reason for her to dislike Micheline. She played golf, a sport Brad was crazy about that Suzanne had no interest in.
“Errol talks about her all the time,” Brad continued. “He's crazy about her. They've only been married a few years. You know how it is.”
She looked at him sharply. Was he saying that love diminished after a few years? They'd been married a long time now. Yes, they'd been under some strain lately, but surely he loved her as much now as he did in those early days . . . didn't he?
Suzanne's annoyance toward Micheline Trent transformed into cold fear for her own future. If Brad got tired of her, what on earth would she do? She was past forty. Brad would soon be fifty, but age didn't matter for men, unless, of course, they were fat, ugly, and poor, none of which applied to him.
Once more she remembered how Micheline bent over Brad and how his gaze lingered on her cleavage. She wasn't sure if Micheline was up to something or not, but she decided to nip it in the bud and send a clear signal that Brad was off limits.
She was silent for a few moments as she thought of how she could accomplish that. “Brad,” she finally said, “I was thinking it might be a nice idea to celebrate your fiftieth birthday with a really nice party. What do you think?”
“Sounds good to me. Are you sure you wouldn't rather take a vacation somewhere, maybe a cruise? Your mother can take care of the kids while we're away.”
The thought of romance on the high seas held plenty of appeal and would probably help them strengthen their somewhat shaky bond, but she also wanted to get the point across to Micheline Trent that she and Brad had not only a happy marriage, but a strong one, and to tell her to butt out. A party, on the other hand, held at their home with Micheline present, would do the trick. Suzanne would make it the party to end all parties. “No, I think I'd rather do the party,” she said after a few moments thought. “Maybe we can go up to Vermont this summer.” What she and Brad really needed was time alone, not to be on a cruise ship with hundreds of other people, even if Brad had a tendency to spend much of his time fishing when they were up in New England.
“All right, a party it is,” Brad said. “Be sure to invite the Trents.”
“I wouldn't dream of overlooking them,” she replied sweetly.
“It's probably just as well we don't ask your mother for any favors, baby sitting or otherwise.” Brad grunted.
Suzanne tensed her shoulders. He'd complained about her mother on the way over. Was he about to start in on her again? She vowed to stay cool and just let him blow off steam. She couldn't really blame him for being frustrated about her mother always being late with her rent, but it was her mother. What was she supposed to do?
“It's probably better if we don't ask her for any favors if I end up not renewing her lease,” he remarked.
She gasped. Venting was one thing. Putting her mother out was something else. “Well, that's a little extreme, don't you think?”
“She's been late with the rent four times in the last six months, Suzanne. The terms of her lease say I don't have to offer her a renewal if she's late more than three times.”
Suzanne looked straight ahead at the curving roadway and tried to convince herself that he was bluffing. He wouldn't actually evict her family. This had been a source of contention between she and Brad for months now. She thought if she just rode it out it would go away, but it seemed to be getting worse. “I'd really like to stay out of this, Brad.”
“I'm sorry I even rented to her,” he muttered.
“You know, Brad, Mom's been working all the overtime she can get.”
“Suzanne, your mother knew how much the rent was when she signed the lease. If it was too much for her, she shouldn't have agreed to take the house. She could have stayed in that apartment she had; it was less money.”
He had a point, and she knew it, but to agree would be disloyal to her mother. “That apartment was a dump. You don't realize how hard it is for her, Brad. I think only Matthew is giving her any money for household expenses.” Suzanne hoped she could evoke sympathy from him, but his next words told her he remained unmoved.
“That's ridiculous. Your mother has three grown children living under her roof, and they all work. If she declines to accept any money from them, she'll have to make up the shortfall herself and not complain that it's too much.”
“Come on, Brad. Kenya only makes a little past minimum wage. And Derrick works for you. You
know
how little he earns.”
“Matthew is a medical records clerk, Suzanne. He probably makes only a little more than I pay Derrick to run my Subway franchise. The difference is that Matthew is trying to help your mother out, while Derrick only thinks of Derrick.”
“That's not fair, Brad,” Suzanne said defensively. “Derrick has a child to support. Matthew doesn't.”
“I don't believe for one minute that Derrick is supporting his daughter. Matthew is looking toward the future, but I think Derrick looks upon managing a sandwich shop as a career.”
She knew he was probably right. Matthew, who used to be every bit as much of a freeloader as Derrick, had developed ambition, while Derrick had not. But it was her entire family's future that she was worried about. She decided to ask him straight out his intention as he turned the corner onto their cul-de-sac. “Brad, are you going to evict my mother?”
He sighed. “I guess that's really not necessary. But the late fees will continue to accumulate every time she's late.”
“Doesn't that seem a little heartless, Brad? I mean, she
is
my mother.”
“Suzanne, you'll recall how reluctant I was to let her rent the house in the first place. I warned her then that the agent would enforce every term of the lease, and that if she didn't have the full amount of the rent in by the first of the month she'd have to pay a fifty-dollar fine, plus ten more dollars each day until she paid it. She said it would be no problem.
You
said it would be no problem.”
Suzanne did remember, but she could hardly admit it. Instead she recalled her mother pleading with her to get Brad to stop the late charges. She'd tried to get her mother to understand that they had a contract with the property managers, and that they were the ones who imposed and pocketed the late fees, not she and Brad. But her mother wasn't having it and insisted that Brad could stop it if he wanted to.
“And now that there's a problem you want me to forget about having warned her and just look the other way,” Brad pointed out as he activated the remote control for the garage door, then brought the truck to a stop next to the sports car parked inside. “This is precisely why you should never rent to family. So maybe you need to talk to her about getting some money out of Derrick and Kenya to help her get the rent paid on time.”
She stared straight ahead. Maybe that's what she did need to do. Not only did she have to get the message across to Micheline Trent to lay off Brad, she also had to get her mother to start paying her rent on the first of every month.
Her nice, easy life was suddenly becoming a lot more complicated.
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Copyright © 2008 by Bettye Griffin
 
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-1673-1
 
 

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