Chasing Rainbows A Novel

SIXTEEN


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Much as I would never admit this to David, I looked forward to my afternoons at the skating rink.

There was something about the hustle and bustle of the daily practices and skating lessons that made me smile. Not to mention the fact I’d convinced myself shivering in the freezing cold environment burned extra calories.

On this particular day, I’d been assigned the task of running the snack bar, a job I actually enjoyed because it gave me a chance to interact with everyone at the rink.

Also, I’d discovered I could skim a jumbo chocolate chip cookie or two off the top each day, unbeknownst to David. I’d convinced myself my actions fell more into the quality assurance camp than into outright thievery.

Quite honestly, I couldn’t help myself.

Willpower had never been one of my strengths. The summer between my sophomore and junior years of college, I’d managed a Candy Kitchen in Bethany Beach, Delaware.

The store had featured a make-your-own sundae bar, homemade chocolates...and fudge.

I’d packed on fifteen extra pounds before the end of June.

When I drove home for my birthday, the first words out of my mother’s mouth fell short of anything warm and fuzzy.

She’d thrown open the front door, watched me scramble out of my glow-in-the-dark-yellow Chevette, and frowned. “You’ve got thighs.”

Sadly, those same thighs had been with me ever since.

Back at the rink, the team mothers tended to congregate inside the shelter of the snack bar seating area, clutching their coffees or teas or sugar-free hot chocolates.

An oh-so-trendy hockey mom sporting flawless makeup and chunky blond highlights ordered a decaf mocha latte. Was she kidding?

I blinked my focus out of the past and into the present, poured a cup of coffee, dumped in some hot chocolate and handed the mocha latte back to the woman. She studied the cup suspiciously, but didn’t say a word.

During a lull in the snacking activity, I stood at the counter, resting my chin on my fists, staring at a team of teenaged boys running through ice hockey drills.

I squinted when I spotted Ashley standing at the railing, deep in conversation with a boy who stood a half-foot taller than she did.

I’d cracked a smile and had begun formulating my plan to tease her, when Ashley gave the kid a shove. Hard.

Then she spun dramatically on one heel and stomped in my direction.

Obviously not the young love encounter I’d imagined.

“He’s a Neanderthal,” Ashley said with a dramatic roll of her eyebrow-less eyes as she breezed behind the counter and poured a tall cup of hot chocolate.

I blinked. “Big word, Ash.”

She scowled at me. “He is a Neanderthal, Aunt Bernie. Their mascot.” Her tone dripped with impatience. “They’re called the Ice Men.”

I bit down on my lip to keep from snickering. Somehow I was fairly certain laughter in any form would not be appreciated.

“Interesting.” I nodded, doing my best to shake the sudden mental picture of a team of fur-draped cavemen taking to the ice.

“...and then he said, ‘Nice eyebrows.’”

Ashley gestured grandly and I did my best to focus on her words, hoping I hadn’t missed anything vital during the moment my imagination had taken over.

“So I said, ‘nice eyebrows,’ too.” She nodded, pointing to the bald area above her eyes. “I mean he does have nice eyebrows. His costume brows are pasted on, sure, but they’re very authentic looking.”

I nodded, working hard to project how seriously I was listening to her.

“He and his buddies all started laughing--” she patted her chest “--at me.” She blinked back sudden moisture and all humorous thoughts fled my brain. “Then I remembered I don’t have any eyebrows.”

Ashley dropped her gaze to the carpet and I reached out to squeeze her shoulder.

“They’re jerks, honey. Immature jerks.”

“But that’s just it, Aunt Bernie.” She lifted her watery gaze to mine.

My head was swimming at this point. Obviously I’d lost the ability to follow teenage thought processes a long time ago. “What?”

“He’s not a jerk. He’s really cool, and I thought maybe he liked me.”

I winced on her behalf, feeling her pain, but before I could say another word, she spun on one heel and breezed out of the snack bar, Styrofoam cup in hand.

“Ashley,” I called after her.

To my surprise, she slowed to a stop and turned to face me.

I closed the gap between us and tipped up her chin with my fingertips. I studied the expanse of smooth skin above her now tear-filled eyes. The faintest trace of brows had returned, and a sudden thought popped into my head.

“Let’s go to the bathroom.” I grabbed her hand and steered her toward the restrooms.

“I don’t have to go to the--”

“Yes, you do.” I nodded, unwilling to take no for an answer.

A few minutes later we stood side by side, studying my work in the scratched and blurry mirror.

“Don’t I look like an old lady?” she asked, leaning forward to study the pale brows I’d drawn on with my eyeliner.

I shook my head no, while thinking that yes, she might resemble some washed-up star of film and stage, but at least we were on to something here.

With the help of the right tools--and makeup kiosk employees, heaven help me--we could manage a temporary fix while we waited for the Ashley’s real brows to return to full strength.

I sank my teeth into my new mission and grinned at Ashley’s reflection in the mirror. “How do you feel about a trip to the mall after work?”

o0o

Ashley and I parked at the entrance closest to the costume store in the mall for two reasons.

The spot was the farthest away from the coffee shop where the security force hung out, and the costume store offered the perfect opportunity to hide my identity before I took Ashley to face Brittany and Tiffany of Rediscover You fame.

I’d assigned Ashley the task of picking out a pair of funky glasses for me while I lovingly stroked the synthetic locks of a hot pink wig.

“Subtle, Aunt Bernie. Real subtle.”

I didn’t bother glancing at Ashley as she sidled up next to me. I could sense her eye roll, there was no need to see it.

“What?” My voice climbed an octave or two. “Too over the top?”

When she snapped her tongue, she sounded just like her mother, and I smiled.

No matter how hard we women tried to become anything but, when all was said and done, we were our mothers. In most cases, this was a good thing.

I smiled at Ashley and she narrowed her browless gaze at me.

In Ashley’s case this was a very good thing. Mothers didn’t come any better than Diane…when she wasn’t scouring clearance racks.

Diane.

I swallowed and dug around in my purse for my cell phone. She’d kill me. Ashley and I hadn’t even told David where we were going when we left the rink. As far as he knew, I was taking Ashley home and nothing more.

Diane was right. I had a whole lot to learn about the parenting life.

I frowned when Diane’s ring clicked immediately into voice mail.

The woman felt as strongly about her cell phone as she felt about discount designer purses, so I found it difficult to believe she’d turned off her phone. Maybe the battery had run down and she hadn’t noticed.

I left a message, snapped my phone shut and shrugged. “Not answering, but at least she’ll know where you are.”

Ashley gave a dismissive shrug of her own and lifted my hand from the wig. She tipped her chin toward my head and grinned.

“Don’t you think your haircut is disguise enough?”

My haircut.

The kid had a point.

The last time the Rediscover You dynamic duo had seen me, I’d sported my typical wild tangle of curls. They’d never recognize me in my prepubescent-boy pixie cut.

I couldn’t help but notice the twinkle in Ashley’s eyes. I hadn’t seen her this happy since I’d witnessed her inhaling a can of peas. I couldn’t help but feel a bit suspicious.

“What?” I asked.

Her smile widened and I was struck once again by how quickly she was growing up.

She held out her hand, handing me a pair of deep red librarian glasses.

“Oh.” I reached for the frames, slipped them on and squatted down to study my reflection in the small mirror anchored to the counter.

If I didn’t know me, I’d think I looked...cool.

“What do you think?” I straightened the frames and waited for Ashley’s answer.

“I think they’ll never know what hit them.” She grasped my elbow and squinted, the corners of her eyes turning serious. “Thanks for doing this, Aunt Bernie.”

My heart squeezed a bit. “Anything for you, Ash. Anything.”

And I meant it.

At that moment, studying the light and hope and gratitude in Ashley’s eyes, I realized I loved this kid as if she were my own.

I threw my arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight against my side. “I love you, sweetie.”

“Aunt Bernie.” She drew my name out into about fifteen syllables. “Someone might see us.”

I bit my lip and laughed. “Duly noted.” I waved the glasses in front of her nose. “Let’s pay for these and go get you some proper eyebrows.”

o0o

Things at the Rediscover You counter went fairly well, if I do say so myself. I was in rare form. That’s to say, I bit my lip whenever one of the makeup twins said something that made my teeth hurt, which was often.

Ashley, on the other hand, handled Brittany and Tiffany like a pro. Based on some of the high school girls I’d seen at the rink, I’d imagine she had a lot of experience dealing with the perfect girls of her generation, and I used the term loosely.

Brittany and Tiffany, as we’d established the day of the first Rediscover You encounter, viewed themselves as beyond perfect. Theirs was a perfection to outshine all others, making them eligible for the ultimate in perfection recognition.

They’d been chosen to teach. In their case, the art of makeup.

I gave myself a mental slap. I needed to let go of the past and move beyond my first impression of these girls.

They were being lovely with Ashley and based on Ashley’s smile--and perfectly natural-looking brows--she had become one very satisfied customer.

By the time I paid for Ashley’s supplies, I’d convinced myself I might have been wrong about the dynamic duo. As Ashley turned for the smoothie stand and I tucked my wallet back into my purse, I almost felt friendly toward Brittany and Tiffany.

Until one of them spoke.

Loudly.

“Excuse me.”

I pivoted, plastering on my best smile.

Tiffany waggled a finger in my direction. “You know, you need to actually use the recovery cream in order for it to work.”

I bit down on my lip and sucked air through my teeth, trying to summon up every ounce of restraint I could.

Brittany wrinkled her nose and nodded. “And red is so not your color. Who picked out those glasses?”

Ashley grabbed my elbow at the precise moment I stepped toward the kiosk counter.

I held my ground, looking from Brittany and Tiffany’s sneers to Ashley’s pleading expression then back again.

In the end, I chose Ashley. How could I not?

“Thanks for stopping me,” I muttered as we put space between us and the kiosk from hell.

“Thank you, Aunt Bernie.” Ashley stopped for a second, gracing me with a smile that lit her every feature, including her new brows. “You’re the best.”

You’re the best. I grinned to myself.

The kid might be a bit biased and blinded by kiosk shopping, but her words were exactly what I needed to shove the Rediscover You twins out of my mind once and for all.

o0o

I dropped Ashley at her house, surprised to find no cars in the driveway. Best I could figure, David had stayed late at the rink and Diane had found a clearance rack...or two...or three.

I waited until Ashley gave me the all-clear wave from inside the front door before I headed home.

The message light on my machine greeted me, blinking its silent plea. Press me. Press me. Press me.

So I did.

David’s words spilled out of my machine, tight and emotional. At just six months pregnant, Diane had started bleeding.

He’d met her at Cooper Hospital and she’d been admitted to Maternal ICU.

The gravity of his words hit home just as the phone rang.

The message cut off as I answered the incoming call.

“Aunt Bernie.” Ashley started talking before I could fully press the phone to my ear, let alone speak. “It’s mom. I--”

“I’ll be there in five minutes, honey.” I focused on using my most soothing tone of voice, even though my insides had gone into full-out panic. “She’ll be all right. You’ll see.”

And as I shot Poindexter an apologetic look and raced for the front door, I could only pray the words I’d spoken were true.

o0o

“There are moments when everything goes well; don’t be frightened, it won’t last.”

–Jules Renard