Hidden Summit
Page 33
“Sushi?” Leslie asked.
“We just started eating sushi. It’s wonderful. Don’t you think?”
She just shook her head. “Be sure to tell Allison I’m not upset or anything—I’m very happy in my new life. I just want to…check in with her. Tell her I have a baby gift. And it’s girl stuff—not for Greg! I won’t take much of her time.”
But when Leslie got to Grants Pass, what her mother had arranged for her came as quite the surprise. “Well, she wasn’t very receptive to this idea, nor was she impressed by the baby gift. Do you actually have one?”
“Not yet, but I can get one on my way to see her.”
“I bought you one to give her. I had it gift wrapped. And to be classy, I also bought a gift for the mother—some lotions.”
“You are the best,” Leslie said.
“What’s bothering you?”
“I’m not sure. I’m afraid there’s a part of me that still loves Greg. I hate that, but…”
“Phhhttt,” Candace said, giving her hand an impatient wave. “I saw that godlike man in your house. And I got to know him a little. Funny, smart, attentive… You can’t be pining for Greg!”
“Okay,” Leslie said, “this time are you telling the truth? Or in ten years are you going to tell me you never liked Conner in the first place?”
“Absolutely not! At least not unless he screws up and hurts my little girl. Now, hurry and put on some fresh makeup. Look your best. You’re meeting Allison at Premier Nails on Nineteenth. She’s getting a mani-pedi at noon.”
“No way,” Leslie said.
“That or nothing, honey. She wasn’t exactly easy to persuade. She said she has nothing to say to you. She was rather bitchy.”
“What’s up with that?” Leslie asked her mother. “She won! How can she be mad at me?”
“I’m sure by the time we get to sushi, we’ll have at least some of the answers. Now get going!” Candace looked her over. “Don’t you have something nicer than jeans to wear?”
“I have a fresher pair of jeans, but that’s it.”
“Well,” Candace said. “Whatever.”
The nail salon was crowded, it being Saturday. The owner immediately asked if he could help her, and she shook her head. She lifted the gift bag. “I’m just here to see someone.” And she craned her neck, trying to spot Allison.
Fortunately she was in the back of the room, sitting in a large, leather chair that reclined slightly, soaking her feet in the pedi whirlpool tub. Her eyes were closed—ah, clearly unstressed about this meeting. And her pregnant belly was huge. She wore a red sundress with spaghetti straps and some kind of pattern in blue and green—very bright. Her thick blond hair was pulled back and held with a headband, as though she might be getting a facial today, as well.
Leslie approached warily. “Allison?” she said softly.
Her eyes opened lazily. “Oh. It’s you.”
“I brought you something,” Leslie said, holding out the bag.
“You can put it right there,” she said, pointing to the floor. “Right beside my purse and shoes.”
Leslie put down the gift bag and looked around uncomfortably. “I was hoping we could talk. Maybe privately.”
“Unfortunately I don’t have time for a private meeting today, Leslie. You can pull up a chair and state your business or forget about it. This is just about the only time I have for myself all week. This is it. Take it or leave it.”
“It’s personal,” Leslie tried.
“Then speak a bit softly if you like. I assume it has to do with Greg.”
Leslie tilted her head. This wasn’t like Allison. She was usually much more pleasant. Not warm, certainly, but at least polite. Leslie looked around for a chair; there were only little ones on rollers, the kind the manicurist used to be seated at the client’s feet. She shrugged and pulled one over to the pedi tub, sitting at Allison’s feet. Like one of her subjects.
“Well,” she began. “I’m tired of telling your husband I don’t want to be friends. We’ve been divorced for two years and—”
“Not my husband much longer,” Allison said coolly. “I filed for divorce a month ago.”
Leslie’s mouth fell open, and she stared at Allison in shock; Allison returned the stare with cold eyes. “But you’re having a baby!” Leslie said.
Allison rolled her eyes. Right at that moment a young Vietnamese woman pushed a low chair on wheels over to the pedi tub and pulled on her latex gloves. She gently lifted one of Allison’s feet out of the tub and began to remove the polish.
“Please,” Allison said, not in the least intimidated by their audience. “I don’t need Greg to have a baby. He’s pretty useless anyway. What does he do? He does nothing but schmooze and network and try to impress people. Sometimes I wonder if he even has an office—it seems all his work is done on the golf course or at lunch and dinner meetings. It didn’t take me too long to get bored with playing on the Greg Adams team.”
“But, Allison, you haven’t been married all that long!” Leslie said.
“Long enough, in my estimation. I have a very busy practice. I don’t have time for more than one baby.”
“But, Allison,” she said, lowering her voice. “I thought the two of you were madly in love.”
Allison just shrugged. “I thought we wanted the same things. When I first met him, he was all about forming a power couple. His ambition was tantalizing. He put a very good face on it. I admit, I got a little hooked.”
“When did the two of you meet?” Les asked. “I don’t think I ever heard that story....”
Allison sought the answer in the ceiling tiles. “Hmm. I think it was at an investment seminar. He was talking with a couple of my partners about tax shelters and limited partnerships, and I asked him if I could buy him a drink to learn more about it. He was more than willing. And willing and willing. I thought he had a lot of money. I thought we were headed in the same direction. He said you were holding him back.”
“Me?”
“Uh-huh. It took me a while to figure out—he wanted me to play second chair. He wasn’t really interested in playing Bill and Hillary. He wanted to play George and Laura.” She made a little face. “I could go along with that as long as we were perfectly clear—I’m George. Greg just isn’t smart enough to take the lead.”
“And his money?”
Allison laughed. “Leslie, he doesn’t have any money. He spends money, he doesn’t save or invest, not exactly a big earner, either. Big talker, though. Thank God I kept our finances separate and wrote us a pre-nup.”
Leslie started to wonder if she’d ever be able to close her mouth again. “I’m not really hearing this.”
“You can have him back,” Allison said.
“I don’t want him back! But don’t you love him?”
“I suppose I did. For a while. He does seem to know how to treat a woman. Most of the time.”
Leslie frowned. “Most of the time?”
“He’s chivalrous. Amusing. He does things like bring flowers. Loved the engagement ring—I think I’ll go ahead and have the stone reset.” Then she leaned closer and whispered. “He does have that little bedroom issue.”
“Bedroom issue?” Leslie asked.
Allison leaned back again and ran her hand over her big belly. “Not exactly reliable in the erection department. You know what I mean?”
Leslie tilted her head and affected a perplexed expression. “I have no idea what you mean. Of all Greg’s shortcomings, that certainly wasn’t one of them. At least with me. In any case, it seems to have worked well for you—” she nodded toward Allison’s belly “—at least once.” She stopped herself just short of claiming Greg was a stallion. Leslie stood up from her little chair. Now she could look down at Allison. “So—what tipped you over the edge?”
“I decided to run for City Council. He informed me, in that extremely polite and superior way of his, that he would run first, and then, if I was still interested, I could file the paperwork for my own campaign. I told him to go to hell. It pretty much deteriorated from there.”
“Oh, my. And are you? Running for City Council?”
She nodded. “The baby’s due next month. The primary is in the fall.”
“Well, then. Best of luck.” She nodded to the gift bag. “Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?”
“Girl. Thank heavens. I don’t imagine Greg will take much interest.”
“Best of luck, Allison. I hope it all goes well…the delivery and everything.”
“Sure. Right.”
Leslie just looked into those icy blue eyes for a second, and without really meaning to, she uttered, “Poor Greg.”
“Poor Greg?” Allison repeated. “He’s a loser! Poor Greg?”
“He’s a lot of things, true. You’re right—he’s pretty self-centered. He’s also kind. There’s not an ounce of malice in him. I can’t say that about you.”
“Hit the road, Leslie. You’ve wasted enough of my time.”
Leslie left feeling as though she’d just had an out-of-body experience. And yet—she suddenly felt she understood everything. First of all—Allison had gone after him. He’d been what she wanted at the time. And while Greg was always looking for someone to promote him, Allison was undoubtedly every bit as inclined. She’d wanted Greg because she’d thought he’d be good arm candy. And she was also cruel. Cold and very, very calculating.
And where did that leave Leslie and what she’d experienced in her marriage and in her divorce? Well, it was pretty simple and awfully sad.
“I think I was a pleaser,” she told her parents with a shrug. “As annoyed as I could get with Greg, I never wanted any trouble. I just wanted a happy home. I wanted to laugh and relax and have harmony. I didn’t care if Greg wanted to be the mayor, if that made him happy. That Allison,” she said with a shake of her head. “Boy, she’s cold. I wouldn’t want to tangle with her. But if you ever have to go to court—you should hire her. Not a lot of emotion there.”
“Seemed like she adored him and he adored her,” Candace said.
“Birds of a feather,” Robert said. “I almost feel sorry for Greg.”
“Well, I do feel sorry for him,” Leslie said. “He’s always had these grandiose ambitions and this truly inflated image of himself and yet…he’s so totally alone. He has no one to believe in him. Even when we were married, I did what he asked me to do—wrote letters for him, took messages, kept his calendar. But I did all that to keep the peace, make him happy and show support, not because I really believed he was going to be a big political hero. I didn’t believe in him, either.”
“But he has a shiny Caddy and a very nice wardrobe,” Candace said.
“The poor slob,” Robert said. “He’s so shallow. You must have been so lonely while you were married to him!”
And she smiled. “Nah. I had you, I had a really fun job with a bunch of great guys, sometimes girlfriends. I was actually pretty happy. And yet…” She thought for a second and remembered what Conner had said to his ex-wife. I’m happy now in a way I was never happy before and it has nothing to do with you.
“I’m going to skip sushi and just drive back to Virgin River,” she told her parents. “I want to spend some quality time on my flowers tomorrow so that when Conner comes back from visiting his sister, the yard looks perfect.”
“We just started eating sushi. It’s wonderful. Don’t you think?”
She just shook her head. “Be sure to tell Allison I’m not upset or anything—I’m very happy in my new life. I just want to…check in with her. Tell her I have a baby gift. And it’s girl stuff—not for Greg! I won’t take much of her time.”
But when Leslie got to Grants Pass, what her mother had arranged for her came as quite the surprise. “Well, she wasn’t very receptive to this idea, nor was she impressed by the baby gift. Do you actually have one?”
“Not yet, but I can get one on my way to see her.”
“I bought you one to give her. I had it gift wrapped. And to be classy, I also bought a gift for the mother—some lotions.”
“You are the best,” Leslie said.
“What’s bothering you?”
“I’m not sure. I’m afraid there’s a part of me that still loves Greg. I hate that, but…”
“Phhhttt,” Candace said, giving her hand an impatient wave. “I saw that godlike man in your house. And I got to know him a little. Funny, smart, attentive… You can’t be pining for Greg!”
“Okay,” Leslie said, “this time are you telling the truth? Or in ten years are you going to tell me you never liked Conner in the first place?”
“Absolutely not! At least not unless he screws up and hurts my little girl. Now, hurry and put on some fresh makeup. Look your best. You’re meeting Allison at Premier Nails on Nineteenth. She’s getting a mani-pedi at noon.”
“No way,” Leslie said.
“That or nothing, honey. She wasn’t exactly easy to persuade. She said she has nothing to say to you. She was rather bitchy.”
“What’s up with that?” Leslie asked her mother. “She won! How can she be mad at me?”
“I’m sure by the time we get to sushi, we’ll have at least some of the answers. Now get going!” Candace looked her over. “Don’t you have something nicer than jeans to wear?”
“I have a fresher pair of jeans, but that’s it.”
“Well,” Candace said. “Whatever.”
The nail salon was crowded, it being Saturday. The owner immediately asked if he could help her, and she shook her head. She lifted the gift bag. “I’m just here to see someone.” And she craned her neck, trying to spot Allison.
Fortunately she was in the back of the room, sitting in a large, leather chair that reclined slightly, soaking her feet in the pedi whirlpool tub. Her eyes were closed—ah, clearly unstressed about this meeting. And her pregnant belly was huge. She wore a red sundress with spaghetti straps and some kind of pattern in blue and green—very bright. Her thick blond hair was pulled back and held with a headband, as though she might be getting a facial today, as well.
Leslie approached warily. “Allison?” she said softly.
Her eyes opened lazily. “Oh. It’s you.”
“I brought you something,” Leslie said, holding out the bag.
“You can put it right there,” she said, pointing to the floor. “Right beside my purse and shoes.”
Leslie put down the gift bag and looked around uncomfortably. “I was hoping we could talk. Maybe privately.”
“Unfortunately I don’t have time for a private meeting today, Leslie. You can pull up a chair and state your business or forget about it. This is just about the only time I have for myself all week. This is it. Take it or leave it.”
“It’s personal,” Leslie tried.
“Then speak a bit softly if you like. I assume it has to do with Greg.”
Leslie tilted her head. This wasn’t like Allison. She was usually much more pleasant. Not warm, certainly, but at least polite. Leslie looked around for a chair; there were only little ones on rollers, the kind the manicurist used to be seated at the client’s feet. She shrugged and pulled one over to the pedi tub, sitting at Allison’s feet. Like one of her subjects.
“Well,” she began. “I’m tired of telling your husband I don’t want to be friends. We’ve been divorced for two years and—”
“Not my husband much longer,” Allison said coolly. “I filed for divorce a month ago.”
Leslie’s mouth fell open, and she stared at Allison in shock; Allison returned the stare with cold eyes. “But you’re having a baby!” Leslie said.
Allison rolled her eyes. Right at that moment a young Vietnamese woman pushed a low chair on wheels over to the pedi tub and pulled on her latex gloves. She gently lifted one of Allison’s feet out of the tub and began to remove the polish.
“Please,” Allison said, not in the least intimidated by their audience. “I don’t need Greg to have a baby. He’s pretty useless anyway. What does he do? He does nothing but schmooze and network and try to impress people. Sometimes I wonder if he even has an office—it seems all his work is done on the golf course or at lunch and dinner meetings. It didn’t take me too long to get bored with playing on the Greg Adams team.”
“But, Allison, you haven’t been married all that long!” Leslie said.
“Long enough, in my estimation. I have a very busy practice. I don’t have time for more than one baby.”
“But, Allison,” she said, lowering her voice. “I thought the two of you were madly in love.”
Allison just shrugged. “I thought we wanted the same things. When I first met him, he was all about forming a power couple. His ambition was tantalizing. He put a very good face on it. I admit, I got a little hooked.”
“When did the two of you meet?” Les asked. “I don’t think I ever heard that story....”
Allison sought the answer in the ceiling tiles. “Hmm. I think it was at an investment seminar. He was talking with a couple of my partners about tax shelters and limited partnerships, and I asked him if I could buy him a drink to learn more about it. He was more than willing. And willing and willing. I thought he had a lot of money. I thought we were headed in the same direction. He said you were holding him back.”
“Me?”
“Uh-huh. It took me a while to figure out—he wanted me to play second chair. He wasn’t really interested in playing Bill and Hillary. He wanted to play George and Laura.” She made a little face. “I could go along with that as long as we were perfectly clear—I’m George. Greg just isn’t smart enough to take the lead.”
“And his money?”
Allison laughed. “Leslie, he doesn’t have any money. He spends money, he doesn’t save or invest, not exactly a big earner, either. Big talker, though. Thank God I kept our finances separate and wrote us a pre-nup.”
Leslie started to wonder if she’d ever be able to close her mouth again. “I’m not really hearing this.”
“You can have him back,” Allison said.
“I don’t want him back! But don’t you love him?”
“I suppose I did. For a while. He does seem to know how to treat a woman. Most of the time.”
Leslie frowned. “Most of the time?”
“He’s chivalrous. Amusing. He does things like bring flowers. Loved the engagement ring—I think I’ll go ahead and have the stone reset.” Then she leaned closer and whispered. “He does have that little bedroom issue.”
“Bedroom issue?” Leslie asked.
Allison leaned back again and ran her hand over her big belly. “Not exactly reliable in the erection department. You know what I mean?”
Leslie tilted her head and affected a perplexed expression. “I have no idea what you mean. Of all Greg’s shortcomings, that certainly wasn’t one of them. At least with me. In any case, it seems to have worked well for you—” she nodded toward Allison’s belly “—at least once.” She stopped herself just short of claiming Greg was a stallion. Leslie stood up from her little chair. Now she could look down at Allison. “So—what tipped you over the edge?”
“I decided to run for City Council. He informed me, in that extremely polite and superior way of his, that he would run first, and then, if I was still interested, I could file the paperwork for my own campaign. I told him to go to hell. It pretty much deteriorated from there.”
“Oh, my. And are you? Running for City Council?”
She nodded. “The baby’s due next month. The primary is in the fall.”
“Well, then. Best of luck.” She nodded to the gift bag. “Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?”
“Girl. Thank heavens. I don’t imagine Greg will take much interest.”
“Best of luck, Allison. I hope it all goes well…the delivery and everything.”
“Sure. Right.”
Leslie just looked into those icy blue eyes for a second, and without really meaning to, she uttered, “Poor Greg.”
“Poor Greg?” Allison repeated. “He’s a loser! Poor Greg?”
“He’s a lot of things, true. You’re right—he’s pretty self-centered. He’s also kind. There’s not an ounce of malice in him. I can’t say that about you.”
“Hit the road, Leslie. You’ve wasted enough of my time.”
Leslie left feeling as though she’d just had an out-of-body experience. And yet—she suddenly felt she understood everything. First of all—Allison had gone after him. He’d been what she wanted at the time. And while Greg was always looking for someone to promote him, Allison was undoubtedly every bit as inclined. She’d wanted Greg because she’d thought he’d be good arm candy. And she was also cruel. Cold and very, very calculating.
And where did that leave Leslie and what she’d experienced in her marriage and in her divorce? Well, it was pretty simple and awfully sad.
“I think I was a pleaser,” she told her parents with a shrug. “As annoyed as I could get with Greg, I never wanted any trouble. I just wanted a happy home. I wanted to laugh and relax and have harmony. I didn’t care if Greg wanted to be the mayor, if that made him happy. That Allison,” she said with a shake of her head. “Boy, she’s cold. I wouldn’t want to tangle with her. But if you ever have to go to court—you should hire her. Not a lot of emotion there.”
“Seemed like she adored him and he adored her,” Candace said.
“Birds of a feather,” Robert said. “I almost feel sorry for Greg.”
“Well, I do feel sorry for him,” Leslie said. “He’s always had these grandiose ambitions and this truly inflated image of himself and yet…he’s so totally alone. He has no one to believe in him. Even when we were married, I did what he asked me to do—wrote letters for him, took messages, kept his calendar. But I did all that to keep the peace, make him happy and show support, not because I really believed he was going to be a big political hero. I didn’t believe in him, either.”
“But he has a shiny Caddy and a very nice wardrobe,” Candace said.
“The poor slob,” Robert said. “He’s so shallow. You must have been so lonely while you were married to him!”
And she smiled. “Nah. I had you, I had a really fun job with a bunch of great guys, sometimes girlfriends. I was actually pretty happy. And yet…” She thought for a second and remembered what Conner had said to his ex-wife. I’m happy now in a way I was never happy before and it has nothing to do with you.
“I’m going to skip sushi and just drive back to Virgin River,” she told her parents. “I want to spend some quality time on my flowers tomorrow so that when Conner comes back from visiting his sister, the yard looks perfect.”
