One True Love?. Stephanie Doyle
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there was my plaque for employee of the month,” Corinne added with her tongue in her cheek.
“Yes, of course,” her mother agreed.
Corinne could almost hear her mother struggling to recall what it was that she did for a living.
“Darling?”
“Yes, Mother?” Corinne knew what was coming.
“What exactly do you do for a living?”
She was twenty-seven and had been working as a financial controller for the same company for the last six years. However, her mother chose to block such horribly dull thoughts as finance from her mind. So, each time Corinne mentioned her work, Grace would always have to ask the inevitable.
“I’m a controller, Mother.”
“Oh, yes.” Her mother sighed, even though Corinne knew she had no clue as to what that meant. “And do you still live in that…state?”
“Obviously, since I’m the one who answered the phone.”
“Don’t get fresh with me, young lady.”
“Haddonfield is a nice town. And New Jersey is a fine state, Mother. It has mountains and beaches…”
“Please,” her mother interrupted. “New Jersey is just that damn place right after you leave New York and are on your way to Hollywood. Anyway, the reason I called was to have you call your sister and tell her she must go to that damn festival.”
“I can’t call her. I’m about to leave for my vacation.”
“Vacation!” her mother exclaimed, as if Corinne had somehow said the word hell instead. “Weatherbys don’t take vacations.”
They had had this argument before. “Most Weather-bys get three months off in between movies or productions. I have to go to work every day. I need a vacation.”
A huge sigh, then, “Where are you going?”
“The Bahamas. Paradise Island.”
“Dear, couldn’t you have done better than that? Why, I can rattle off the top of my head at least fifteen more suitable islands.”
“Paradise Island is in my budget, Mother.” Budget was another word she knew her mother detested. Every once in a while Corinne liked to throw it into the conversation just to rile her. She could almost see Grace shuddering on the other end of the phone.
“At least tell me you’re going with that nice man…what was his name? Brendan?”
Yet another reason why Brendan and she were destined to be together. Her mother loved Brendan. The one time Grace had managed to set foot in New Jersey, Brendan and Matthew had been helping Corinne move into her new condo. Her mother had practically recoiled at seeing Matthew, big and sweaty, wearing tattered jeans and a torn cotton T-shirt. There was such plainness about him, she’d told Corinne later.
But Brendan had made a big fuss over her mother, referred to her as Corinne’s sister, then went on to list a few movies she’d starred in. Her mother had practically drooled over him.
It was that much harder to tell her mother that Brendan wasn’t coming with her. “Not this time, Mother. He has to work.”
Work on becoming an unattached man, that is.
“Well, you have a lovely time. And you’ll call me when you return?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Damn, I hate good-byes.”
“I’ll call in two weeks.” Corinne hung up the phone. “Or in two years,” she muttered after she was sure the connection was broken. Sometimes her mother could be very draining, to say the least. Not that she didn’t love the woman with all her heart, her father, too, it was just that they lived such a different life and believed in such different things that Corinne was never too sure how she came from them.
For one thing, the whole family mocked her idea of one true love. To them it was as foreign as domestic champagne. It was common knowledge that both her mother and her father slept with every leading person they ever starred with. Her mother could list ten true loves alone, and while her father’s memory wasn’t as good these days, given time he could list a handful as well. The only thing that had kept the family together was the fact that her mother and father had starred together in so many movies.
No sir, not for her. Myra had just broken off her fourth engagement. And her brother, Jeffrey, was working on his third wife. Corinne wanted something different for her life. She wanted stability. After all, she wasn’t the most stable of women, so it stood to reason that she could only successfully fall in love with one man once. That man was Brendan. Now if only he would come around to her way of thinking, they would be a perfect match.
Even her family liked him. And Brendan liked the fact that he knew someone with “famous” connections. When they married, her parents would throw her a gala wedding to rival Myra’s first wedding. Or almost-wedding. That particular fiancé she had left literally standing at the altar.
Regardless, she and Brendan would live happily ever after. Corinne was sure of it. If not, if she couldn’t straighten his arrow, well then she was just going to have to deal with being single for the rest of her days, because she wasn’t going through this agony again for anyone. And she highly doubted, anyway, that there was anyone else out there waiting for her.
Brendan was her mate. Her future. The other half of her soul. Without him she would live like old Miss Havisham of Charles Dickens fame. Alone. In a decrepit wedding dress and a room full of spiders. Forever.
Well, maybe not spiders. She didn’t like them so much.
Ding-dong.
The doorbell startled Corinne out of her musings. That’s strange. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Instantly, her heart began to race. What if it was Brendan, she thought as she skipped through the house to her front door.
What if he had come to his senses? What if he was ready to give up all the other women so that he could be with her forever?
What if it was just Darla?
Corinne’s face fell and her shoulders slumped when she opened the door to find Darla on the other side of it. “Oh, it’s you.”
“And hello to you, too,” Darla greeted her with a sarcastic tone. “I figured you might be down so I brought some comfort food.” She lifted the brown bag she carried in her hand.
“What is it?” Corinne asked.
“Brownies and vodka.”
“Okay.” Corinne took the bag and wandered back to the kitchen. “Only one brownie for me though. I’ve got to get this body into a bathing suit in less than forty-eight hours.”
“Fine by me.” Darla never had any problems with finishing off brownies. She made her way to the over-stuffed couch in the living room and sat down. “So Matthew told me that you told Brendan that if he doesn’t give up the other women that it’s really going to be over between you two. Is that true? This isn’t just a ploy to get him to straighten up?”
“Matthew has a big mouth,” Corinne said, returning from the kitchen with a tray of brownies, two martini glasses and a bottle of Cosmopolitan mix. She set the tray down on the coffee table, splashed the mix into the two glasses, then topped them with the vodka that Darla had brought. She handed a glass to Darla and lifted her own.
“Here’s to a successful plan.”
“Here’s to your vacation,” Darla said.
“Here’s to my showing Brendan how much he’ll miss me.”
“Here’s to looking good in your bathing suit,” Darla said instead.
Corinne lowered her glass. “I’m not sensing I have your full support of my plan.”
Instead