“I have my ways.” I’d seen her staring longingly at her friend Sarah’s pair last week and had made a mental note. I know Rachel would probably kill me later for spoiling them, but it made me feel so good to see Sophie smile that it would be worth her wrath.
“Dad! Check these out!” she calls out to John as he passes by on his way to the kitchen, Charlotte in his arms. I smile. He looks good holding that baby.
“Nice,” he replies as he raises his eyebrow at me. “Mom sure has been doing a lot of shopping lately.” He eyes the Gucci bag on my shoulder.
“This was a gift from Casey,” I remind him.
“Ah yes, that’s right,” he says. “What was the damage today?”
“Not too bad,” I say defensively, not wanting to have this discussion in front of Sophie. I wasn’t used to being questioned about how I spend my money. “Sophie, why don’t you take these up to Audrey’s room?” I take the bags off the table and hand them to her. After she’s gone, I turn back to John. “You only get one first date. I thought it would be nice to make it special for her.”
“She has a huge closet full of clothes! Did she really need something new?”
“Jesus, it’s just one outfit.”
“And the boots for Sophie.”
“Yes,” I sigh. “Those too. It’s not a big deal.”
“You know I don’t like to micromanage your spending. But you know our situation. You can’t just buy whatever you want, whenever you want.”
Their situation? Rachel and I never talked money and I had always assumed that they lived comfortably.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I just wanted to make them happy. Did you see the smile on Sophie’s face?”
He softens and hugs me. “I know. Putting a smile on her face is a very difficult thing to do these days! We just need to make sure we live within our means. The pharmaceutical industry is so unstable right now that we can’t go crazy.”
Unstable? Don’t people always need drugs? Rachel had never mentioned anything about John’s job and that it might be in jeopardy. He’s been at the same company for over a decade and I had always thought of him as untouchable.
Despite my better instincts, I relax into his arms, feeling his chiseled chest press against mine, breathing in the faint smell of his aftershave. Guilt sweeps over me immediately, but I tell myself I’m just playing the role of loving wife.
The doorbell rings later that evening and I think I may be even more excited than Audrey. I rush to the door, my fingers shaking, and open it to discover a ridiculously good-looking seventeen-year-old wearing a letterman jacket. I peer past him to see a shiny black Land Rover in the driveway. Wow, go, Audrey. Didn’t know you had it in you, girl! I try my best to squelch my cougar instincts.
“Mrs. Cole?” he asks. “I’m Chris McNies and I’m here to see Audrey. Is she available?”
Manners too.
“Yes, come in,” I stammer as John walks up behind me.
“You must be Mr. Cole,” he says as he holds out his hand for John to shake.
“Have a seat.” John attempts to sound gruff but I can tell he’s crushing on this guy too. “I want to have a quick chat with you.”
Ah, yes, the chat was basically John’s premeditated speech he’d warned me he’d be giving Chris about not speeding, drinking, or having sex with our daughter tonight. I stay back in the kitchen with Charlotte to avoid the awkward moment.
They walk out a few minutes later, Chris with a slight smirk on his face and John clearly relieved. John nods at me as a sign that Chris agreed to all his ground rules. “Audrey!” John calls. “Chris is here!”
Audrey appears at the top of the stairs looking stunning. Her hair, usually wavy, now hanging straight, her skin dewy and eyes sparkling with first-date anticipation. I quickly pull out my phone and snap a picture for Rachel. As I gaze at the photo, I wonder, when did Audrey become a woman? I’m sad that the real Rachel is missing this moment. I get a lump in my throat as I think of her, on location, in New York with Charlie, no doubt eating at all my favorite New York haunts, living my life. But as Audrey hugs me tightly before waltzing out the door with Mr. Perfect, I wonder if it’s the life I want anymore.
John shuts the door and peers through the window to watch them leave. “Nice guy,” he says. “He better not break her heart.”
“I know,” I say, and try not to think about the smug look on his face I caught earlier. I sit down on Rachel and John’s worn couch, admiring its comfort and making a vow to myself to get rid of my own uncomfortable furniture the moment I get back home. “Thanks for letting her go. Potential broken heart or not, it’s time to let her grow up.”
He sinks into the couch next to me. “True. It’s just so hard. I had to stop myself from jumping in the car and following them.” He laughs, but I know he’s serious.
I touch his arm. “She’s a smart girl, she’ll be fine.”