The B Girls

Actions And Reactions





"You can't just take off. What about the kid's activities? Dinner? Dry cleaning? You're being selfish."

Mae winced. Was she being selfish? Maybe she should stay home. Lucy would be okay with Jane for company.

But dammit, she didn't want to stay home. She wanted to take some time for herself, do something spontaneous and unscheduled. She could practically hear Jane's voice in her head telling her to grow a backbone.

"You are a very intelligent man and we have two very intelligent kids. They aren't helpless toddlers for heaven's sake and neither are you. I'm sure the three of you will survive without me for a few days."

Chip pulled himself up to his full height like a dog bristling to show dominance. "I shouldn't have to get by and neither should the kids. You're staying home."

Mae sucked in a shocked breath and froze, her mind reeling. How had she spent the past sixteen years ignoring the fact that Chip was a bully?

The answer was obvious--Chip was usually more subtle about his bullying and she was afraid to rock the boat. Afraid of losing her place in the world of respectability.

This time, she wasn't giving in.

Mae put on her best all-purpose polite and happy face. "You have the rest of the day to figure out what has to be done tomorrow and you can take it one day at a time after that. Lucy's been a good friend to me and she's asked for a little support. I'm asking for yours."

"You're putting that red-headed bohemian above your own family?" Chip said.

"No. I'm helping a friend and trusting that you are competent enough to take care of the family," Mae said.

"You might not like what happens if we find out we can get along just fine without you."

Mae dug her fingernails into her palms, using the pain to fend off tears. "I'm going to pretend you aren't acting like a jerk and I hope you do some thinking of your own the next few days. I'll have my phone if you need me."



###



Jane figured there wasn't any point in putting off the inevitable. She called her voice mail as soon as she put her overnight bag on the kitchen table.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

She sighed at the sound of Norm Bankstone's voice. Her boss Norm. He sounded angry. Big surprise. After asking what was wrong with her, he requested she return his call.

There were three more messages from Norm. In the final message, he gave up on her returning his phone call and said he would see her in the office early Monday morning.

The rest of the messages were routine calls from clients.

No personal calls.

Because--aside from Mae and Lucy--she had no personal life.

She was consumed with her career. With her image of herself as a strong independent woman who didn't need anyone--meaning a man--to make her life complete.

So, why had she endangered her career with that little stunt yesterday?

She scrolled to Norm's number and hit the call button.

"Norman Bankstone."

"Norm--"

"Jane? Please tell me you've had a nervous breakdown or developed an addiction to oxycontin so I can tell the client you're in a mental institution."

"Stress. I think it's stress." Seemed as good an excuse as any.

"Stress? You expect me to tell a man who's worth a few hundred thousand dollars a year in business that you turned into a foul-mouthed shrew because of stress?"

Jane had intended to play the humble penitent. To throw herself on the mercy of the court of Norm. Right up until the word shrew came out of his mouth. She didn't do humble well. "Tell him whatever you want. If you're not going to fire me, I'm taking a month off."

"You're fired."

Jane pushed the button to end the call without replying.

"It's official," she said, peering into her tank of very expensive--and very beautiful--saltwater fish, "I've just flushed fifteen years of work down the toilet."

The fish weren't impressed. Little did they know, fish food would be the first thing to be sacrificed to the budget gods if she didn't find a new job. Herbie, Gracie and their little friends just might wind up in some doctor's reception room.

She made a note to call the fish sitter tomorrow.



###



Within five minutes of Jane and Mae leaving, Lucy's bag was packed and sitting by the front door.

She didn't have anyone to answer to and she didn't worry about her wardrobe while she packed. Her idea of casual wear consisted of jeans, the odd pair of khaki shorts and whatever shirt came to hand.

She went back upstairs to a spare bedroom she'd turned into a serene, uncluttered space for meditation, lit a candle and lowered herself into a half-lotus.

This is what she should have done yesterday instead of shooting up the fish or drinking that awful boxed wine. Which probably said something profound about the state of her spiritual life.

She focused on the candle flame and started counting her breaths. She only made it to three before her mind started to skitter and jump around. Divorce. How is Ryan doing at school? Has he eaten anything except pizza? What lawyer is Gary planning to hire? What mystery could Belle be talking about?

Lucy shook her head in disgust. Classic case of monkey mind.

She focused on the candle again and started counting.

When she got to five, the doorbell gonged through the house.

Dammit!

She unfolded herself and went to see who felt the need to ring on a Sunday.



###



Lucy looked through the peephole in her front door at the stranger standing on her porch. The man was decently dressed but for the first time in her life, Lucy was hesitant to open her door.

The reality of living in this big house alone smacked her in the face and she realized if he were some sort of nutcase, she was screwed.

The man glanced from side to side, no doubt checking to see if there was any movement inside. He knocked again.

Lucy told herself to stop being ridiculous, turned the deadbolt and opened the door with a polite smile pasted on her face. "Yes?"

The man didn't smile back.

Before Lucy could think better of things and close the door in his face, he asked, "Lucy Deen?"

"Yes."

"I have delivery for you," he said and held out a thick legal sized envelope she hadn't noticed.

She took the envelope and now the man smiled. "Have a nice day." He turned and left without waiting for a response.

Lucy closed and locked the door before opening the envelope. Just like in the movies, she found herself staring at a set of legal documents stapled to a piece of blue card stock.

"Petition for Divorce," she read and blinked in disbelief.

Gary walked out yesterday and had her served with divorce papers today? Sunday? Who the hell has legal papers served up on a Sunday afternoon?

Apparently a man who'd been planning his departure for some time. A man who was hoping to keep her off balance and vulnerable to whatever dirty tricks he and his lawyer were planning.

Whatever hurt still lingered after Gary walked out yesterday burned away in white hot anger at the utter contempt he'd just demonstrated for her, their marriage and her feelings.

Lucy vowed to find the most vicious lawyer in all of Metro Atlanta.

Gary Deen had just made a huge mistake.