Shoe Addicts Anonymous (25 page)

“Don’t make this about you,” Deena said with what sounded like true hatred in her voice.

“I’m
not
!” Joss objected. “Jeez, don’t you think it would be easier for me to just cut my ties and run? If I didn’t genuinely care about your sons, and want the best for them, there’s no way I would ask you to let me keep seeing them now and then.”

“Meaning you think you’re the best?” Deena asked, as haughty as the Queen of Sheba.

“Meaning, I think anyone who has cared for them should stay in their lives, at least on the outskirts, so they don’t think people leave because of
them
.” Joss was hot with anger. “It’s not about me, but it’s also
not about you
. Or at least it shouldn’t be.”

“Just go.” Deena waved her away. “I’m going to call my husband and tell him we need to replace you right away. Thanks a lot, Jocelyn, thanks a lot.”

Joss swallowed. She wasn’t used to this kind of scene. “Listen, I really think we need to put the boys first, so if I pick them up—”

“I said
go
!” Deena screeched. “And I mean go
now
or I will call the police, I swear I will.” She leveled a steely gaze on her. “Collect your things and get out of the house. I don’t want to see you again.”

“But—today?”

“Now!”

Crap. Where would she go? What was she going to do?

What difference did it make? Anywhere but here would be better.

“You have
one hour,
” Deena went on. “Whatever’s left then goes to charity. Or, better still, the trash.”

Only Deena Oliver would think the trash was a preferable place for the clothes than charity. It was tempting to tell her just how
enormously
she fell short of her husband’s needs.

But as angry as she was, Joss couldn’t form the words.

Instead, a lump formed in her throat. This was so ugly, because this woman was the mother of two boys Joss had cared for. One that she had really grown attached to. “Can I at least say
good-bye
to the boys? I don’t want them to think I totally abandoned them.”

“Again, it’s all about you, isn’t it?” Deena snapped.

“No, I want them to know I care about them. For
their
sake.” Joss looked at the ugly sneer on Deena’s face and thought if Deena’s society friends could see her now, they wouldn’t think very highly of her. “It’s
important
that they know the people in their lives care about them, even though I’ll be leaving.” She hated to plead for any more time in the house, but she felt strongly about it. “Please, Mrs. Oliver.”

Deena stood up, her toes wedged in hot pink foam toe separators, and hobbled over to Joss. She was shorter than Joss, but her presence was enormous. “Listen, missy. I told you to get out of the house. If you don’t do so within the hour, I’m calling the police. Is that clear enough for you?”

“Perfectly.” Joss nodded, and swallowed the lump in her throat. There was no way she was going to let Mrs. Oliver see one more shred of emotion from her.

She turned and walked from the room as calmly and coolly as she could. As soon as she was out of Mrs. Oliver’s sight, she rushed upstairs to call Sandra and see if she could pick her up and give her a place to stay for a night or two.

It took only a short while for her to collect all her things. Hoping that Deena wouldn’t get curious and come looking for her, she went to the computer room and signed on.

Working quickly, and glancing nervously over her shoulder every few words, she typed a note for the boys.

She pushed the
SEND
button and hurried down the stairs, hoping to escape without any further attention from Deena.

She should have known better.

“Stop!” Deena yelled. She was standing a few feet from the front door, still barefoot, but she’d removed the foam pedicure pad.

“I’m finished packing.” Joss lifted her bag. “I’ll be out of your hair now.” She started toward the door, but Deena stepped in her way.

A tremor of fear crossed Joss’s chest. Scenes from bad horror movies flashed through her mind in rapid succession.

“Is it a raise you want?” Deena asked.

Considering the fact that Joss had been half-afraid that Deena was going to pull out a knife and hack her to death, it took a moment for the question to sink in. “A
raise
? What do you mean?”

“I
mean
is it more money you’re after? Is that what this game is about?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand. What game?”

“This quitting game. You’re not
really
going, are you?”

That was it, Deena had popped her clutch. Joss looked at the bag in her hand. “Yeah, I really am.”

“I’ll raise your salary by ten percent.”

“What?”

“Okay, twenty. Plus,” Deena eyes flashed a little wildly while she thought, “I’ll throw in holiday bonuses. Big ones.”

“Well, that’s really…generous…of you.” And really weird. Really, really weird. “But I just don’t think this is going to work out.”

Deena shifted her weight from one side to the other, looking for all the world like a sullen teenager. “What, do you want me to beg or something?”

This was surreal. “No.”

“Fine.
Please
don’t go. There. Satisfied?”

“Mrs. Oliver, I don’t want you to beg. This just isn’t working out.”

Deena’s face went pale. It looked as if she was realizing for the first time that everything Joss had been saying was true and that she really was leaving.

Only someone like Deena would look at quitting as a viable way to request a raise.

“I can’t do this alone,” Deena said, so quietly she was practically whispering. “I can’t deal with the kids.”

Guilt shrouded Joss, and for one wild moment she thought about staying so she could protect the boys from this crackpot. But she couldn’t. There was no protecting them from Deena. Or Kurt, for that matter. “They’re good boys,” Joss said. “Especially Bart. Colin needs a little more discipline.” That was an understatement. “But they both have so much potential.”

“I can’t do it!” Deena’s voice was approaching hysteria. “Don’t leave! You’re the only person who’s ever stayed longer than three weeks! I thought we had an understanding.”

“I’m sorry,” Joss said. This was really getting uncomfortable. “It’s not working out.”

“I’ll raise your salary by fifty percent!”

“No, thanks.” She had to get out of here. This was just too weird. “I’ve got to go, Mrs. Oliver—”

“I don’t know what to do with the boys! Wait!”

There was no way she was waiting. She turned and hurried out of the house, with Deena’s voice still echoing behind her. “No! Joss, don’t go!”

“I’ve got a date tonight,” Sandra said, taking one of Joss’s suitcases out of the back of her car. “But I can cancel it if you want me to stay in with you.”

“Oh, no, don’t be silly!” Joss was so grateful to Sandra she had almost cried three times on the drive to Adams Morgan. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to call the agency and see if they have anyone else they can send me to interview with. A lot of people want you to start right away, you know.”

They hauled the bags up the steps of Sandra’s building and a guy who was coming out the front door rushed over to Sandra and took the suitcase out of her hand.

“Let me help you with that, Sandy.” He was nice-looking. Late twenties probably. A little short, brown hair parted conservatively on the side, and big blue eyes that kept his face from being ordinary. But he looked at Sandra as if she were a goddess.

“Thanks, Carl, but I’ve got it.” She gestured at Joss. “By the way, Carl, this is my friend Joss. She’s going to be staying with me for a while.”

“Oh. Nice to meet you.” He put out a hand. It was warm and soft. “Carl Abramson. I live upstairs from Sandy.”

“Very nice to meet you.” Joss looked to Sandra for some indication that she was interested in him, too, but she looked positively oblivious. “I hope to see you around.”

He nodded. “You gals sure you don’t need some help?”

Sandra shook her head. “We’ve got it. But thanks anyway.”

“Uh, listen. Sandy.” He moved closer to Sandra and spoke in a lower voice, looking so self-conscious, he was practically circling his toe on the ground in front of him. “I was wondering if you might be free to go to the movies some time this weekend.”

She looked surprised. “Carl, that is so nice of you. And I’d love to”—he looked hopeful for a moment—“but my boyfriend might get jealous. I’m really sorry.”

“Oh, that’s okay. Can’t blame a guy for trying. I should have known you had a boyfriend.”

Sandra flushed as she smiled and said, “Thanks, Carl.”

He gave her one last lingering look, then went on down the sidewalk.

“Wow,” Joss whispered. “He’s got it bad for you.”

“You think?” Sandra looked after him. “It’s funny, I had a crush on him when he first moved in a few months ago, but I was never brave enough to talk to him. Now that I’m not trying to work up the nerve, he’s suddenly talking to me all the time.”

“Poor guy. He looked brokenhearted.”

Sandra snorted. “I doubt that. Come on. Let’s get going.”

When they got to the door to her apartment, Sandra turned to Joss and said, “You know, I’ve been thinking. Forgive me if I’m out of line, but maybe you don’t want to be a full-time nanny anymore.”

Joss laughed. “Well, I don’t! Nothing out of line about that. But it’s the only job I can think of that will give me room and board and a salary at the last minute like this.”

Sandra frowned. “I’ve got an extra room, you know. If you want to apply for something else, you can stay here as long as you need to.”

Joss was touched. “Gosh, I appreciate that, but I don’t want to impose.”

“Actually, I think I’d really like having you around. I’ve been alone in this cave for a long time.” Sandra laughed. “On top of that, I have a vested interest in keeping you around for the shoe business. We need you to be available. You’re the only one who can do any sort of Web design.”

Joss felt her face grow warm. “I
would
like to pursue that. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“Then it’s settled. You’re staying here. Maybe you’ll get some part-time work doing Web design around town, but the rest of your time is ours.” She put out her hand. “Deal?”

Joss had never felt so happy in her life. “Deal.” She shook Sandra’s hand.

“And with that,” Sandra said. “I have to go. I’m late. Wish me luck. I think tonight might be
the night
for Mike and me.”

The night?
Oh, no. “I really am in the way,” Joss said. “I could go out, maybe to Lorna’s when she gets home from work—”

Sandra put a hand up. “Don’t worry about it. Mike’s got a place. Just wish me luck.”

Joss still worried that she was in Sandra’s way, but she wasn’t going to argue. “Good luck!”

“Debbie’s coming tonight,” Mike said, watching Sandra over drinks at the Zebra Room later that evening.

He mentioned Debbie every single time they got together. Tonight he hadn’t even waited three minutes. Was he trying to tell her something? She had to ask. The old Sandra would have been too timid, but the new Sandra was direct. To the point.

Confident. Sort of.

“Mike, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that.”

“About Debbie?” He looked like he knew this was coming. Like he’d been waiting for it.

“Yes. I can’t help but notice that you keep mentioning Debbie in a really pointed way. Are you trying to tell me something?”

His face fell into a puzzled expression. “I’m…not sure what you mean?”

Confident.

Bold.

Straightforward.

“Are you and Debbie involved?”

“Are we—?” He looked like he’d just missed the bottom step. “What do you mean are
we
involved?”

“I mean is she your girlfriend? Is that why you keep mentioning her this way?”

His face was positively closing in on itself at this point. If he wasn’t careful, it might snap right off.

“No…Debbie’s not my girlfriend.” Then—this was the worst part—he added in what he must have thought was a reassuring voice, “I thought
you
might hit it off with her.”

“Me?”
Like a
Titanic
victim clawing at the last few feet of the boat before giving in to the reality of the cold water, Sandra half wondered if he meant he was just one of those guys who wanted to see his girlfriend with another woman.

But she knew he wasn’t.

He was one of those guys who
didn’t
want his
boyfriend
to be with another woman.