California Girls

“What do you mean, why it happened? Why did Nigel cheat? I have no idea. Why did he choose that bimbo child? Because he could. Because she’s young and beautiful. Did he think about me even once? Did he think about us or our marriage or what’s going to happen when it all hits the fan? I doubt it. I had nothing to do with what happened. I’m his wife. I have loved him and taken care of him.” She shifted the phone to her other ear. “I wanted us to get pregnant while we were in Hawaii. Now that’s never going to happen.”

Her stepfather sighed. “You need to ask why. Why did he do this? Why now? Why with her? And how much of it is your fault?”

“What?” She glared at the phone. “My fault? Mine? Are you insane? It’s not my fault. I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve been right here, living our life, while he’s been off fucking who knows who. He told me right before the show. Did Mom mention that? He told me five goddamn minutes before I was going to face his mistress on live television. I don’t care why he did it. I just want him punished.”

And back, a voice in her head whispered. Despite everything, she also wanted him back.

“No breakup is just one person’s fault,” Bill said quietly. “Very few are even eighty-twenty. There’s always shared blame.”

She felt fury rise up inside of her. “How nice. When did you get this insight? What is your blame in your failed marriage?”

“I knew from the start Mary Jo didn’t love me the way I loved her. I knew she thought she was trading her dreams for someone safe. I could never make your mother’s dreams come true, but I married her anyway. The real problems started when I stopped trying to make them come true. The work was too hard and I checked out emotionally a long time before we split up. That’s on me.”

She hadn’t expected her stepfather to be so honest. “Mom doesn’t make it easy all the time.”

“No, she doesn’t, but then neither do I. I don’t regret marrying her and I’m not saying we should have stayed together. But I will accept my share of the responsibility.”

“Neither of you cheated. You can’t know what that’s like.”

“You’re right, I can’t. But I do know that cheating is only part of it. The big question is still why, and until you can answer that, you’ll never be able to move on.” He coughed. “I’m sorry you’re going through this, I truly am. But how I feel isn’t important. Your feelings are the ones that matter. As long as you’re a victim, you’re losing.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Maybe not, Finola, but it’s true. You think about what I said. I’ll check in with you in a couple of weeks.”

Before she could agree or scream or tell him he was wrong, he’d hung up on her.

Finola stood, her phone clutched in her hand. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she screamed into the empty room. “You’re wrong about all of it.”

She raced up to the second floor. Fury gave her energy. Instead of showering, she simply scrubbed off her studio makeup and put on normal makeup, then fluffed and sprayed her hair. She went into her closet and changed into a cobalt blue suit with a patterned silk shell. She hesitated over her shoes before choosing a pair of nude high heels. One killer bag and simple jewelry later, she was ready to leave.

As she drove to Pacoima, Finola did her best to not think about her stepfather. Screw him, she thought bitterly. It was easy to give advice when you didn’t know what you were talking about. He’d never cared about her, anyway. He’d been all about Zennie. She was his favorite. The tomboy to replace the son he never had. Zennie, Zennie, Zennie.

She made her way through the valley, heading northeast. This time of day there was no point in even attempting the freeway. Besides, surface streets were more direct.

The monthly meetings were held at the recreation center and the group helped fourteen-to-eighteen-year-old girls stay focused to achieve their dreams. Finola had been offered a position on the board more than once, but she’d always refused. She hadn’t wanted the commitment. What she did instead was visit a few times a year and spend time with the girls. She talked about the business and how to succeed. She also gave practical advice on how to act in an interview, whether for a job or an internship. She talked about the importance of communication skills, and how you should look people in the eye when you spoke.

Finola pulled into the recreation center parking lot. She was a little early, but knew several of the girls would already be there. They were eager for the information, determined to better themselves. They looked up to Finola, used her as a role model. Last June she’d done a whole segment about the organization on her show and how they were helping local girls.

Finola turned off her car engine and took several deep breaths. She was fine, she told herself. She was going to march in there and share her knowledge. She would be helpful and funny and show the girls that someone believed in them.

Not enough to be on the board, a vile voice whispered in her ear. Oooh, you did a segment on your show. That’s amazing. You go, girl. You’re really giving back now. Better be careful or you’ll burn yourself out.

“No,” Finola whispered. “It’s not like that. I’m a good person. I am.”

She was, she repeated silently, then wondered if she was. Or if the rest of her life was exactly like her marriage—a complete and total fraud.

*

Ali sat on her sofa—the one piece of furniture she was keeping, no matter what—and took stock of her most pressing life issues. She supposed the biggest problem was she had nowhere to live and, thanks to what was still owed on various items for the wedding, she was dealing with crushing credit card debt. She was also feeling oddly uncomfortable about her sister.

Finola had been surprisingly difficult the other night. Ali tried to tell herself it was because her sister had her own pain with Nigel and the affair and all that, but jeez, did she have to accuse Ali of falling for Daniel? That was ridiculous. The man had been a saint and she was grateful, nothing more.

But Finola wouldn’t understand that and now Ali was left feeling kind of icky about something she hadn’t done, which could be really awkward, considering Daniel was due to arrive in about five seconds.