The Break-Up Diet: A Memoir (29 page)

I shrugged. What could I say? Kevin had insisted, “It's not you, it's me.” That cliché sounded like an easy way out. But I guess any break-up line sounds lame when you are on the receiving end whether the reason is true or not.

A serious expression crossed Steven's face. “I've been thinking about something important and I want to hear your thoughts about it. I don't want you to answer right away. I want you to think about it,” he said.

“Okay, so what is it?”

“Would you ever consider quitting your job at the club to pursue your writing fulltime?” He studied my face closely for the answer.

I laughed. What was there to consider? “I don't need to think about it. Of course, I would,” I said. “But I don't exactly have that luxury.”

“What if you did?” He stared at me unblinking.

“Well, if I won the lottery tomorrow,” I smiled and continued with the fantasy, “I'd find a way to invest it, so I could live off the interest. I'd quit the club, and work on finishing my book.”

“So, money is your only obstacle?” he asked.

“I can't afford not to work. The bills won't pay for themselves while I'm playing the starving writer. If it were just me, it'd be okay, but I have Josh.”

“How long do you think it would take you to finish?” he asked.

That was a good question. I couldn't even fathom what it would be like to have one day melding into the next with nothing to do but write. “Maybe three or four months.” It was the best guess I could make for a hypothetical daydream.

Steven nodded slowly and took another sip of his espresso.

in-n-out double-double means i love you

New Year's Eve
Tuesday, December 31

Steven guided his Suburban into a shopping center parking lot toward an In-N-Out Burger drive-thru. “Did you want something?” he asked, scanning the menu marquee.

I checked the clock on the dash. We still had three hours before we were due at Valerie's for her first annual New Year's Eve Pajama Party. Josh rode his bike over early to help set up the decorations, so all we needed to do was shower, change, and show up.

“Is this all right, or did you want something else?” Steven hesitated before pulling forward to order.

“No, this is great. I'll have a grilled cheese, no onions, and a chocolate shake.” I unclipped the seatbelt and shifted to tuck my legs under me.

The lot was nearly full and a long line stretched out behind us. After we collected our food, Steven pulled around to a parking spot.

He lifted his double meat, double cheese hamburger out of the cardboard car box and took a bite. I pulled the wrapper off the top of my straw and lifted the chocolate shake to my lips. I took a long, hard draw on the straw and thought my head would cave in.

Steven laughed when he saw the way my eyes bugged out. “Thick shake, huh?”

“Very.” I pinched the collapsed straw to reshape it.

We ate intently, people-watching through the windshield. I followed Steven's gaze and saw a family with children eating at the stone patio benches. One little boy stuffed his mouth full of french fries. His sister swiped a fry from his cardboard box and before she could eat it, he snatched it back.

I watched Steven watch the children. There was no way I could mistake his expression for anything other than longing.

He noticed me studying him and turned his attention to his vanilla shake. “Kids are great,” he said, shifting position in the seat.

Steven pulled the lid off his cup and stirred the fluffy whiteness with the straw before lifting it to his lips. He looked at me over the top of the cup. “Do you ever think you might want more?”

My eyes lingered on the family. If I had another child, this time, it would be different; I wouldn't be doing it alone. From everything I had learned about Steven, and seeing the way he interacted with Josh, I knew he would make a loving and devoted father. I looked across the interior of the SUV. Steven's eyes were so blue and so warm; I could've swum in them forever.

“With you I would,” I said quietly.

Steven leaned across the console between our seats and cupped my face, pulling me into a deep kiss. He whispered against my lips, “I'm in-love with you and I would love to have a child with you someday.”

After a lingering kiss, I looked into his eyes. “I love you too.” A smile pulled at my lips. “I was planning to tell you at midnight tonight, but you beat me to it.”

“At midnight on New Year's Eve?” he asked with a smile.

“Well, it's better than doing it at a fast-food burger place. How cheesy is that?” I said.

hindsight is 20/20

New Year's
Day Wednesday, January 1

“Oh m'god! You'll never guess who's on TV right now!” Valerie emitted a ten-decibel squeal.

I pulled my cell phone away from my ear and thumbed the volume button all the way down.

“Turn on Channel 13. I'm watching
EX-treme Dating
and you're never going to guess—oh shit, you don't have regular TV do you?” Valerie snorted into the phone, an incredulous laugh gone wrong.

“Remember that guy, Tyler, the musician-singer guy? He's on TeeeeVeeee! And he's on a date with this total slut.”

I set down the umpteenth box I had moved from one side of the garage to the other. Brushing my hair out of my face, I cradled the phone on my shoulder and surveyed the mess.

Josh tried to help, but succeeded in making more of a mess by opening all the boxes to see what was inside. I finally sent him off to dig through the treasures hidden in the back of his closet.

It always gets messier before it gets cleaner. I repeated it a few times in my head, trying to keep from getting too overwhelmed by the project.

“Didn't you hear me?” Valerie practically screamed. “That guy you dated last summer is on this dating show I'm watching right now. You've got to come over and check this out. It's hilarious. He's making an ass out of himself.”

“He is an ass,” I said.

I took a break from my New Year's cleaning frenzy and parked myself on an old, tottering kitchen stool in the middle of the garage. “So, what does she look like?”

“You wouldn't believe it. First, they were in a hot tub and she wore a thong. And I didn't know Tyler had a tattoo on his back.”

“It's amazing what you can learn from Reality TV,” I said.

“No way! Now she's wearing a little schoolgirl skirt with her ass hanging out. You've got to get over here. Oh m'god! You're not going to believe what he said.” Valerie choked on her laughter and coughed in my ear for nearly a full minute.

When she finally recovered, Valerie told me that at the end of the show, the girl said Tyler was boring and he quipped that her wrapper was better than her candy.

Okay, so maybe he was witty, but he had toenails that looked like peeling tree bark, he stood me up on my birthday, and I'm really glad he never saw me naked.

scooby snacks

Saturday, January 11

High Tea at the Ritz?

When Bonita organized the event to celebrate her friend Susan's birthday, I thought she was kidding.

“Are you sure they'll let us in without a pocket Chihuahua, pearls, and a stuck-up attitude?”

“It's not like that. It'll be fun,” Bonita said.

When we met in the hotel lobby, we shared hugs all around. Susan tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder and whispered, “I've never been here before, it's beautiful.”

Valerie, Bonita, Susan, and I sat down at our table to a panoramic view of the ocean. Set up on craggy cliffs, the Ritz Carlton Laguna Niguel occupied some prime real estate. There weren't any pampered, blue-haired crones like I expected, so I relaxed into my brocade chair.

The server set delicate teacups and saucers for each of us. I ordered the cinnamon spice tea.

Bonita sipped her tea. “You should try the black currant, it's delicious.”

We played musical teacups as we taste tested each other's selections. Nothing like a little backwash among friends.

When the server brought the silver tray tower of finger sandwiches with smoked salmon, caviar, cream cheese, cucumber and completely unidentifiable lumps of mushy stuff, we descended on it like attorneys at a car wreck.

Within minutes, the silver reflected our hungry faces.

“If this is all we get, I'm going to starve to death.” Valerie licked her finger and dabbed at a stray crumb.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just add some flies around your mouth and I'll call Sally Struthers to set up a telethon.”

Bonita slid back her chair and tiptoed to the waiter's station. “You don't mind if we just borrow this…” She smiled at a barely post-pubescent busboy and trailed her hand down the length of his arm as she reached for another tray. She returned to the table with the tower of munchies and a satisfied smirk.

After the feeding frenzy subsided, a waiter approached the table. He placed a small dessert plate in front of Susan, tucking a card under the edge.

Four forks dove into the gooey chocolate and caramel torte.

Susan pulled the card from the envelope, read it, and looked across the table at me. She held up the card. “Steven picked up the tab for our High Tea.” She turned the card to read the script aloud, “It says, ‘Happy Birthday, Susan. I hope you ladies have a wonderful lunch. The check has been taken care of. Enjoy your day together.’”

Valerie snorted. “Can you believe him? I'm sorry Annette, but Steven is just not normal. He's too nice.” She leaned forward on the table with her elbows. “There's got to be something wrong with him that he's trying to hide.”

“Why can't it be that he's just a thoughtful and sincere guy?” I said.

“Nobody is that perfect,” Bonita said, shaking her head.

Susan sipped her tea. “If there are guys like that out there, I've never met one.”

“He's the type of guy that the neighbors say to the reporters, ‘He seemed so nice, I never would've expected he had forty-three dismembered bodies buried under his house.’” Valerie's look dared me to disagree.

“That's ridiculous. You just can't handle the fact that I found a true prince,” I said. “You don't want to admit that the possibility even exists.”

“I'm a realist. I'm just saying that there's probably something major about him that you don't know. For all you know, he could be a Danish spy,” Valerie said.

My laugh came out as half cough, half choke. “Give me a break. There's nothing wrong with him. He's just a great guy.”

“If he's so great, then why would he want to go out with you?” Valerie ticked the tip of each finger. “You don't own anything. You don't have a career. You already have a kid. And you have a ton of issues.” She let her hand drop. “If he's so great, he could have anyone. Why choose you?”

Valerie stated all the points I was sure the others were thinking. Hell, I'd wondered the same thing myself.

“It must be for the blowjobs,” I said.

Bonita and Susan laughed.

“It couldn't be anything else,” Valerie said.

my pumpkin turns into a carriage

Saturday, January 18

The marine layer swirled a soft mist around us as we walked. Buddy and Nina ran ahead with Josh. They dodged the incoming tide and stirred the damp sand in the wake of their race. Soon we were alone on the empty stretch of beach.

Steven reached for me and gently squeezed my cold fingers between the warm cushions of his hand. He pulled me into an embrace and looked up into the sky.

“Too bad we can't see the stars tonight,” he said.

I closed my eyes, rested my cheek against his chest, and listened to the rhythm of the churning waves.

“That's okay, I love the beach at night. And I love you. On the beach. At night.” I stood on tiptoe to kiss him.

“I've been thinking.” Steven pulled back to look into my eyes. “Remember when I asked you if you'd ever quit the club to write fulltime?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, if you're serious about becoming a writer, I think you should quit.”

A heavy sigh pressed from my chest. “That's a nice idea, but I thought we already went over all that.” I squirmed in his embrace.

He just didn't get it. It wasn't as easy as he made it sound. I couldn't just quit. The magazine guy had folded when he couldn't attract any advertising. And freelance writing was so muse-killing, I'd only half-heartedly pursued new contracts. The club was my main source of income.

I pulled away and took his hand. The tide crept farther up the beach and we moved to avoid soaking our shoes.