By Friday Finola couldn’t stand her own company anymore. The disastrous conversation with Nigel had meant a sleepless night. She was tired, heartsick, emotionally battered and mentally lost. She needed to be around people who cared about her. She needed sympathy and hugs.
Based on the text loop with her mother and her sisters, she knew everyone would be at her mom’s house after work today to come up with a plan to go through the house, sorting years’ worth of memories and junk so the place could be sold.
Finola didn’t want to feel this awful, she thought as she drove from Sherman Oaks to Burbank. She didn’t want to be in pain or face the humiliation. She wanted her old life back with her great husband and her plan to get pregnant. Why couldn’t she have that?
“I can’t have that because my jerk of a husband can’t keep his dick in his pants,” she yelled while she waited at a stoplight. “Damn you, Nigel!”
She ranted the entire drive, then pulled up in front of the house where she’d spent much of her childhood. Zennie’s and Ali’s cars were already in the driveway. The whole gang was there.
Finola paused before getting out of her car. She had to be strong. She had to hold herself together. It was one thing to get some sympathy, it was another to scare her family with her overwhelming sadness and anger. She could lose it, but only if she stayed on this side of normal.
She let herself inside and listened to the sound of voices coming from the kitchen. No doubt they were having an organizational meeting before they got to work. After dropping her bag on the small table by the front door, she called out, “Hi, everyone. It’s me.”
“What?” Mary Jo cried. “Finola, darling, is that really you?”
All three of them hurried through the living room. Ali reached her first and hugged her.
“What are you doing here?” Ali asked. “I thought you were in Hawaii until tomorrow night. Did I have that wrong? I’m so happy to see you. Did you have an amazing time?”
Her mother pushed Ali aside and reached for Finola. “You’re not tan at all. Good girl. You’re using sunscreen. When did you get back?”
Zennie simply waved. “Hey.”
“Hey, back.”
Finola looked at the three members of her family. She knew she could trust them with her broken heart, that they would be there for her and take care of her. She let her grip on her self-control slip a little and tears instantly filled her eyes.
“Nigel left me.”
“What? No!”
“That’s impossible. He adores you.”
“Are you okay? What happened?”
The questions flew around her. Finola covered her face with her hands and started to sob. She was led through the house to the kitchen where someone helped her into a chair. A box of tissues appeared in front of her. Mary Jo and Ali sat on either side of her while Zennie boiled water for tea. Her mother kept rubbing her back.
“Tell us what happened,” she said, her voice gentle. “Once we know what’s wrong, we can help you fix it.”
“There’s nothing to fix.” Finola grabbed a handful of tissues. After wiping her face, she blew her nose. “You can’t tell anyone. No one can know. I mean it. You can’t tell anyone, no matter what. If this gets out, I’ll be ruined.”
It was going to get out, she thought grimly. It was just a matter of time.
“Of course we won’t say anything,” Ali assured her. “But, Finola, Nigel couldn’t have left you. He loves you. We can all see it, every time he looks at you.”
“I wish that were true, but it’s not. He’s having an affair.”
“With who?” her mother asked. “What bitch did this? Was it someone at his office? It’s always the young receptionist.”
“Mom, don’t,” Zennie said from the stove.
“You don’t know it wasn’t her.”
“You don’t know it was.”
Finola took Ali’s hand and laced their fingers together. She and her sister had always been close. Ali would give her strength.
“He told me last Friday, right before the show.”
“I knew it!” her mother crowed. “You said it was food poisoning but I knew you were off for another reason.”
Finola told them what had happened. She started with Nigel’s blunt declaration and ended with Nigel’s visit the previous day.
“They’ve gone to Chile to ski,” she said, still crying. “I don’t think he’s coming back. I think it’s over.”
“It’s not over,” Ali said soothingly. “I can’t believe he would do this. Maybe he hit his head or something because we all know he loves you.”
“I’m never getting grandchildren,” Mary Jo complained.
“Mom!” Ali and Zennie said together.
“You’re not helping,” Zennie added, setting a mug of tea in front of Finola.
“I wish he’d hit his head, but he hasn’t,” she said, releasing Ali and taking the mug in both hands. “He says it’s my fault he cheated.”
“What? No.” Zennie sat down across from her. “That’s crazy. You’re way too good to him. You spoil him.”
“It’s important to spoil a man,” her mom said, looking pointedly at Zennie. “Something you would know if you ever stayed in a relationship more than fifteen minutes.”
Finola sniffed. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Zennie said, glaring at their mother. “Clark and I broke up, but we were hardly dating. It’s no big deal.”
Mary Jo sighed. “What a horrible week. First Zennie, then Finola, then—” She jumped, as if someone had kicked her.
“Not now,” Ali said quickly, glaring at her mother. “This is more important.”
Finola knew there was something going on, but honestly, she just couldn’t find it in herself to care about anything but her own pain.
California Girls
Susan Mallery's books
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