Pride And Pregnancy. Karen Templeton
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I think of…whatever you said.”
“Yeah,” Jo said. “Me, too. Their Yo-Ho-Ho Mocha Rum Truffle cheesecake…”
“Oh! And their Everlasting Latte Cinnamon Swirl sorbet…”
Stupid names. Fabulous stuff. Holy moly was right.
“Hot and filthy rich,” Joanna cackled. “And single, you say?”
“Don’t go there.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You, on the other hand, have an unattached, lonely, rich hottie living on the other side of your west wall. A single, lonely, rich hottie with a direct link to the best ice cream in the entire freaking world.”
Rolling her eyes, Karleen climbed off the bike and grabbed the phone from its stand, walking out to her kitchen for some water. “Why do you assume he’s lonely?”
“I can see it in his eyes in the photo.” Which, coming from anybody else, would have sounded weird as hell. But Jo was like that. And besides, much as it pained Karleen to admit it, she’d seen it, too. Up close and personal. “For God’s sake, Karleen, pay attention! Ice cream! Sex! Money! Ice cream!”
She had to laugh. “I got it, Jo. I’m not interested.”
“Are you insane? I’m interested, and if I were any more happily married my brain would explode. Maybe you better check your pulse, make sure you’re still alive.”
Karleen released a long, weary breath. “And you do know you are beating a very dead horse, right?”
After a pause, Jo said, “You never used to be like this.”
“I think that’s the point, honey,” she said softly. “And yes, I’m very aware of how attractive he is. And nice. And he’s got two adorable little boys. But his expression when he first saw me far outweighed whatever hormones were playing dodgeball between us—”
“There were hormones playing dodgeball?” Jo said on a squeak, and Karleen rolled her eyes.
“Jo. Even if I was thinking about followin’ through, these lashes do not flutter at someone who looks at me the way Troy Lindquist did. You could practically see the ‘trailer trash’ lightbulb go on over his head.”
“Karleen. Blond hair and a Texas accent do not trailer trash make.”
“The boob job comes pretty damn close.”
“Then half of L.A.’s trailer trash, too. And would you stop beating yourself up over that? You were thrilled when Nate gave them to you for your birthday.”
“Uh-huh. Until I realized what’s gonna happen at some point when they’ll have to come out and I’m gonna end up with a pair of deflated balloons on my chest. I’ll be regretting them for the rest of my life. Just like my marriages.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” Jo said in a voice Karleen had heard far too often since the first day in seventh grade when they’d sat next to each other in Social Studies, and for some bizarre reason the daughter of a hotshot attorney and one of Albuquerque’s most successful car dealers had taken a liking to a little hick from Flyspeck, Texas. “Dammit, Kar—you’re smart, you’ve got your own business, you don’t owe anybody anything. So your marriages didn’t work out. It happens.”
“Three times?”
“So you’ve had more practice than most people. Big whoop. But if being alone is what you really want, hey…go for it—”
Karleen’s call waiting beeped in her ear. “Sorry, I’m waiting on a client’s call, I need to take this. I’ll talk to you later, honey, okay?”
At that point, she almost didn’t care who was calling. That is, until she heard “Leenie? Is that you?” on the other end of the line.
A fireball exploded in the pit of Karleen’s stomach. The phone pressed against her ear, she wobbled out to the family room, dropping onto the worn Southwest pastel sofa. Well-meaning friends, rich hunky neighbors, all forgotten in an instant. Not even the glass menagerie sparkling on the windowsill—usually a surefire defense against the doldrums—could withstand the all-too-familiar tsunami of irritation and guilt.
“Aunt Inky?”
“Well, who else would it be, baby? Shew, what a relief, I was afraid you might’ve changed your phone number or somethin’!”
Definitely an oversight on her part. Karleen resisted the impulse to ask her mother’s younger sister what she wanted. Because she only ever surfaced when she did want something. “Well. This is a surprise.”
“I know, I’ve been real bad about keepin’in touch. And it would’ve been hard for you to contact me, since I’ve been doing so much, um, traveling and all.”
“Uh-huh.” Inky didn’t sound drunk, for once. But then, it was only ten o’clock in the morning. The slurring wasn’t usually noticeable until mid-afternoon. “So where are you now?”
“Lubbock. Been here for a couple months now. It’s okay, I guess. God knows I’ve lived in worse places.” A pause. “You take up with anybody new yet?”
Karleen shut her eyes. “No, Aunt Inky. I told you, I prefer being alone.”
“What fun is that?”
“It’s not fun I’m after, it’s peace. You should try it sometime.”
“Well, each to his own, I suppose,” her aunt said. “You doing okay, then? Money-wise, I mean?”
Ah. Karleen had wondered how long it would take. “I get by.”
“Well, that’s good. You always were a smart little thing, though—sure as heck a lot smarter than your mama or me—so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You still livin’ in the same place, that house with all the trees around it?”
Ice immediately doused the fire in her belly. And oh, she was tempted to lie. If not to pack her bags and make a run for it. Except Inky was the only family she had left, for one thing. And for another, Karleen was done running, done believing that whatever she needed was always right over the horizon.
“Yes, I’m still here.” She hesitated, then added, “It’s all I’ve got, really,” even if that was stretching the truth a little.
Sure enough, Inky came back with a soft “Then I don’t suppose you could spare a couple hundred dollars? Just a loan, you understand. To tide me over until I get back on my feet.”
Karleen nearly laughed, even as she again resisted temptation, this time to point out to her aunt that if she spent less time in a horizontal position—either in the company of men of dubious character or out cold from cheap booze—she might actually stay on her feet for more than five minutes. But it wasn’t like Karleen had a whole lot of room to talk, so who was she to judge? And anyway, it had been nearly a year this time, so maybe this really was an emergency.
“I guess I can manage a couple hundred. As long as you pay it back,” she added, because she wanted her aunt to at least think about it.
“Of course, baby! Let me give you my address, I’m stayin’ with a friend right now—” oh, brother “—but I should be here for a while….”
Karleen scribbled the address on a notepad lying on the coffee table. “Okay, I’ll send a check for two hundred dollars in the next mail—”
“Could you make that a money order, baby? And if you could see clear to maybe make that two-fifty, or even three, I’d really appreciate it.”
Karleen sighed. But, she thought after she hung up, at least her aunt hadn’t asked to come stay with her.
A thought that made her feel prickly all over, like the time she’d lifted up a piece of wood in the backyard after a rainstorm and a million great big old waterbugs had scurried out from under it. Even though it had been probably