Chapter Nine
"Richard Dawes left you a message to call him when you get the chance," Kristy said as she stepped into Clive's office a few weeks later. Clive was busily working at his computer, but he looked up when she entered.
She shuffled a few more papers in her hand. "The CEO of Townsend Books wants to know if you can make lunch this week, or if you want to reschedule," she went on, "and your mother called." She grinned and handed him his pile of messages for the morning. It was noontime and she was about to head to the lunch room.
Clive flipped through the papers before setting them down on his desk. "Thanks."
She nodded and started to turn to leave, but Clive called after her, "Hey, come here."
Kristy glanced to make sure she'd shut the door behind her, then she turned back and smiled at Clive. He had pushed his chair away from his computer and was completely facing her now. "Are you going to lunch?" he asked.
She nodded, crossing the office to his side of the desk. "Want to come with me?"
He smiled, but shook his head. "I can't. I'm going to work straight through lunch today because I've fallen slightly behind." He reached up and brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "Not that I'm complaining," he added.
Kristy smirked. "It's okay," she joked. "You can tell me that you've fallen behind because you're distracted by my beauty and personality. I won't be offended."
Clive laughed. "See, that's what I like about you," he replied. "Your brutal honesty. And your beauty and personality."
"Well, now that we've cleared that up." Kristy leaned over to brush his lips with her own, then straightened. "My stomach is growling, so I'm going down. Are we still on for dinner tonight?"
Clive nodded. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," he promised.
They shared one last kiss and then Kristy left his office. She had a smile on her face. It was hard to believe that things were finally starting to look up. For the past few weeks, things with Clive had progressed rather smoothly. They went on a few more dates, and more often went to his apartment to spend time together. At the office, there was no policy against dating coworkers, so sometimes they ate lunch together. It wasn't a big secret that they were dating, but Kristy didn't like to announce it, either. She wanted to keep it to herself, something for she and Clive to share alone.
It seemed almost too good to be true, but Clive was everything that she had secretly hoped he'd be. Romantic, attentive, caring. And he was wonderful with Sarah. She'd taken a liking to Clive since that day that he'd picked her up from daycare, and often she asked about him. That night, Kristy was planning to cook dinner at her apartment for the three of them. I wonder if I should make lasagna, she thought to herself as she grabbed her purse and her lunch bag from her desk. I think I have Nannie's old recipe around somewhere.
She stopped in at the restroom and then stood by the counter, running a comb quickly through her hair before gazing at her reflection. One would have to be blind not to notice the dramatic change in her appearance. Not that her looks had changed any, but it was more her attitude. She was carrying herself with a bit more confidence, feeling a bit more like the old Kristy Thomas. Her cheeks had some color in them, and her eyes sparkled. It was completely sappy, but Kristy was caught up in her romance, and to her, there was no wrong in the world. Not anymore.
She fished around in her purse, looking for her lip gloss, when she heard a voice behind her say cattily, "I hear you're screwing Clive Brighton."
Kristy froze, then looked up and saw that Lindsay had just come out of one of the stalls, dressed in one of her usual miniskirt ensembles.
"Excuse me?" Kristy asked.
Lindsay flounced over to the sink with her make-up bag, and started to apply red lipstick to her lips. "You heard me," she said after a minute. "You and the big boss. Can't say I blame you. You don't want to be a secretary forever, after all."
Kristy's eyes flashed and she turned and faced Lindsay. "It's not like that," she protested. "Clive and I are dating, yes, but I'm not screwing him, as you put it. And our sex life has nothing to do with our jobs here. I'm not trying to climb up the chain."
Lindsay sort of rolled her eyes, putting her lipstick away and beginning to apply more eyeliner. "Think of it however you want to," she replied. "I'm not trying to be mean. I mean, hey, Clive's sexy as hell. By all means, go for it. All I'm saying is that people talk. You yourself said that you weren't going to get involved with men after what happened to you. Yet here you are, suddenly, with the most successful man here." Lindsay turned towards her, narrowing her outlined eyes. "People talk," she repeated.
Kristy could feel the anger rising in her. How dare she come in here and ruin the first good thing to happen to Kristy in ages? What's her problem? Kristy wondered silently. Why is she being such a royal bitch?
"What are you, jealous?" she snapped.
Lindsay raised her eyebrows. "Of course not," she retorted. "I'm only looking out for your best interests, Kristy. After all, you don't want to be the one that everyone talks about because she nailed her boss. Do you?"
It took some composure for Kristy to keep her calm. She was the hot-tempered type, keen on shooting her mouth off before she thought of the consequences. Or at least, she used to be. The new Kristy counted to ten silently and then countered with reason. "People can say whatever they want," she announced stiffly. "Frankly, if you people have nothing better to do than to sit around and speculate a relationship between two people you barely know, then I feel very sorry for you!"
With that, she grabbed her purse from the counter and stalked out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.
She was shaking by the time she reached the lunchroom. Lindsay's words had bothered her more than she wanted to admit. Were people really talking about her and Clive? Or was Lindsay jealous and trying to warn her off? Either option made her heart drop to her stomach. Stop, she told herself. Forget everyone else. Don't let anyone take away your happiness.
But she didn't feel like going into the lunchroom anymore. Instead she turned and headed out the front door. It was getting cooler everyday as October progressed towards November, and there was a sharp breeze in the air. Kristy had left her jacket in her office, but she didn't mind the breeze. It cooled her flushed cheeks and helped slow down her heart. She took a deep breath and began walking down the street, aimlessly. She browsed into store windows and nibbled on her sandwich, trying not to think about Lindsay or anyone else. Tonight she'd go home and cook dinner and kiss Clive, and nobody could make her feel bad about it.
"Is Clive my daddy?" Sarah asked that night.
Kristy, who had been reading the directions on a box of garlic bread, was so startled that she dropped the box. It fell on the ground and the frozen bread slices tumbled onto the floor.
Kristy scooped up the box quickly, threw away the dirty pieces of bread, and spread the rest on the plate before answering. "What kind of a question is that?"
Sarah was sitting at her play table, which she'd moved to the kitchen while Kristy started dinner. She had a coloring book open in front of her, but she hadn't colored much. She was looking at Kristy expectantly.
"Well, my friend at daycare, Melissa, was talking about her daddy and I asked her what a daddy was. She said that it's a boy your mommy is married to, and when I asked what married is, she said its when you spend lots of time together. Clive is the only boy you spend time with, so does that make him my daddy?"
Kristy let out a sigh and turned towards Sarah, wiping her hands. She knelt down so that she was eye level with Sarah. She'd hoped to avoid this conversation for as long as humanly possible. She knew Sarah would wonder, eventually, but for now it had seemed that Sarah was happily oblivious to the fact that she only had one parent.
"Clive isn't your daddy," Kristy explained slowly. "Clive is Mommy's friend, but that's all."
Sarah frowned. "If you're not married to Clive and he's not my daddy, then why does he always come over and play with me?"
Kristy bit her lip. "He's my special friend," she attempted to explain. "A special friend is also someone you spend lots of time with." She reached out and tickled Sarah. "Like you're my special friend, too."
Sarah shrieked in delight at Kristy's tickles, which made Kristy grin.
"Stop, stop, Mommy!" Sarah finally pleaded. Kristy stopped immediately, but they were still giggling.
"So," Sarah asked when she'd stopped giggling, "Clive and you and me are all special friends?"
"In a way . . . yes," Kristy agreed, nodding. "The important thing you need to understand, Sarah, is that you have people who love you. That's all that matters."
Sarah considered this, tipping her head to the side, and then she flashed a big smile. "Okay," she agreed, and then went back to her coloring book, seeming much happier. Kristy watched her for a few minutes, then stood back up to finish cooking. Just as she was finishing up the garlic bread, the phone rang.
Kristy grabbed the cordless extension in the kitchen. "Hello?"
"Hi, it's me," Stacey said.
"Hi, Stace."
"What are you doing tonight?" Stacey asked.
Kristy switched the phone to her other ear and turned on the tap, rinsing her hands. "Clive's coming over and we're eating dinner together," she replied. "Why?"
Stacey seemed to hesitate. "Well, I ran into Mary Anne today. . ."
"Uh huh," Kristy said suspiciously. "You didn't give me away, did you? Tell me you didn't!"
"I didn't," Stacey hurried to assure her. "But let me tell you, I wanted to. Kristy, don't you want to see Mary Anne? She and I are meeting for coffee again. She mentioned you to me today."
"She did?" Kristy turned off the tap and turned, leaning against the sink. "What did she say?"
"Not a whole lot. She said she talked to her father last night, and he told her that he ran into your mom at the grocery store the other day. And then she said that she wished she knew where you were, or even if you were okay. Oh, Kristy, I almost burst not telling her. You have no idea how hard it is!"
Kristy let out her breath. "So what did you tell her?"
She could hear Stacey exhale. "I said that I'm sure you're fine and that you'll turn up when you want to be found. Then I changed the subject."
"Well, you said the right thing," Kristy began. "I'll be found when I want to be, and right now, I don't want to be."
"But, Kristy--"
"I'm in charge here," Kristy cut in with a snap. "I don't want to see Mary Anne, and I don't want her to know where I am."
Stacey paused for a few moments. "Okay. Sure," she said finally.
Kristy sighed. "I don't mean to sound harsh, Stace. Just. . .please. Help me out here."
"All right," Stacey agreed reluctantly. "Well . . .talk to you later. Have fun tonight."
"Yeah. You too."
She hung up with a click and sighed, pressing the phone against her forehead before replacing it to the cradle. Then she noticed that Sarah was giving her a weird look. "That was Stacey," Kristy explained.
"Who wants to find you?" Sarah asked innocently.
Kristy groaned under her breath. Sarah was amazingly observant and intelligent for her age, and Kristy had always been glad for that fact, but now she found herself wishing that Sarah acted more her age. That was, like a nonobservant child who tried to eat crayons. "It's an adult game of hide and seek," Kristy attempted.
"Oh." Sarah shrugged and went back to her drawing. Kristy let out her breath, hurriedly finished cooking, and had just enough time to hurry to her room and change before Clive arrived.
She had been still been dressed in her work clothes: a navy blue pants suit and heels. She kicked her heels across her bedroom and stripped off the pants suit, then hurried over to the closet. Dinner in was casual, but she still wanted to look nice. Do I even own anything nice? She wondered. Besides work clothes? Kristy had always been a jeans-and-T-shirts kind of girl. She dressed up occasionally, but as a general rule, it was sweats. She pulled one of her nicest pairs of jeans from the closet and slipped them on. A few minutes later, she unearthed a white cashmere, short-sleeved sweater that she'd bought last Christmas to wear to a Messiah performance. She slipped on the cashmere and then brushed out her hair, letting it fall loose. Her feet went into a pair of flat white boots, and after a spritz of perfume and a dab of lip gloss, she was ready.
Just in time. She heard the buzzer ring and she hurried to the door to answer it. She pushed Lindsay's accusations; Stacey's pushing; and Sarah's questions out of her mind and put a smile on her face as she pulled open the door.
Clive greeted her with a bouquet of daisies. "For you," he said, much like he had on their first date, as he handed her the daisies.
She grinned and smelled them. "Thank you." She tipped her face up for a light kiss and then stood aside to let him in.
"Clive!" Sarah came running, a huge smile on her face. Clive didn't miss a beat. He reached down and caught her, scooping her up into his arms. "Sarah!" he responded, with equal enthusiasm.
Sarah giggled and tried to imitate his accent. "Soh-rah," she said.
"Making fun of me, are you?" Clive asked, pretending to look angry.
Sarah giggled again.
"Well, you know what I do to kids who make fun of men with accents?" Sarah shook her head. "I tickle them, that's what." With that, he began tickling Sarah's sides, while she shrieked in delight.
"That'll teach you to make fun," he said with a smirk, relenting after a couple of seconds. Then he set her back down on the floor and wagged a finger, still keeping his pretend-stern expression.
Kristy just watched, smiling to herself. He really was great with her. And Sarah adored him. Then Kristy's smile disappeared. How would Sarah react if (when?) she and Clive broke up? She'd be heartbroken. Kristy shook her head, trying to push the thought out of her mind. Clive glanced at her and grinned, and she forced herself to smile back.
"Who's ready for lasagna?" she asked brightly, clapping her hands together.
"Me!" Sarah cried.
"You are, huh?" Kristy leaned down, balancing her hands on her knees. "Think you can do Mommy a special favor and help set the table?"
"Yep." Sarah went to the drawer and pulled out silverware while Kristy reached in the cabinet for plates and Clive set out drink glasses. A few minutes later, the table was set and they were sitting down to Kristy's homemade lasagna and garlic bread.
"This is delicious," Clive said after a few minutes. "My compliments to the chef."
Kristy twirled a piece of lasagna around on her fork. "I'll have to pass them along," she replied. "It's my grandmother's recipe."
Clive smiled. "Then my compliments to your grandmother as well."
After dinner, Clive helped Kristy wash the dishes and then Kristy brought Sarah to the living room. She had bought the new Aladdin DVD because it had been her favorite movie as a child, and she couldn't resist giving Sarah the chance to see it. She set up the movie and Sarah lay comfortably on one of Kristy's big pillows on the floor. Then she and Clive returned to the dining room.
"Thanks for coming over," Kristy said as she boiled a pot of water for tea. "I like when we get to spend time together."
"So do I," Clive replied, coming up behind her and kissing her cheek. He waited until she had made hot tea and poured them both a glass before he asked, "Is anything wrong tonight, Kristy?"
Kristy shrugged and sat down at the table, wrapping her cold hands around the hot mug. "Why do you ask?"
"You've seemed a trifle distracted," he told her, sitting down across from her.
She shrugged again, glancing out into the living room. She could hear snatches of music from the movie. Sarah was nodding her head, completely absorbed. "Well . . .it's just, do you know Lindsay Walker?"
"Yeah. Sort of. I know who she is, at least. Why?"
"Well, I used to think she was a friendly person, but today. . ." Kristy told Clive about the conversation in the bathroom. "It bothered me more than a little," she admitted. "Do you think that's the general consensus at work?"
Clive shook his head, looking annoyed. "I don't know what Lindsay's motives were, but I haven't heard any such talk from anyone. Besides, you and I aren't school children, and our relationship shouldn't be discussed by anyone but you and I."
"That's what I said," Kristy agreed.
"Good," He leaned towards her and kissed her cheek. "Don't worry about it."
It was exactly the reassurance she needed, and yet there were still other things nagging at her. Stacey, for one thing, and the idea that Mary Anne still missed her. Mr. Spier running into Watson . . .had Watson said anything about her to Mr. Spier? Did he mention that he hated her for stealing his money? Or did he miss her, too?
"Hey." Clive touched her hand. "Is anything else wrong?"
Kristy forced herself to cheer up. "Nope." She decided to change the subject. "Are you getting caught up at work?"
"Yes." He nodded. "I got an interesting manuscript today." He grinned. "It was from a woman who wrote a dieting success, in her opinion: introducing the FAM diet. Guaranteed to make you lose ten times more weight."
"Ten times more than what?" Kristy wrinked her nose. "And what's FAM, anyway?"
"Fantastic Aging Metabolism." Laughing, Clive explained this woman's theory, which was directed at the middle age crowd. The "FAM" diet would help those with slowing metabolisms make healthier choices. Once their calorie increase went down, then they would magically feel more energetic, in turn become motivated to exercise, and then of course, drop pounds instantly. By the time Clive had finished explaining, Kristy was cracking up.
"Oh, please!" she exclaimed. "I can't even believe all of these crazy diets that people are trying. Do you really need tons of books to tell you basic common sense?" She deepened her voice to sound like a TV announcer and put her fist to her mouth as a micrphone. "Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's true. Here is the best kept weight loss secret: Put down the Twinkies, step away from that fresh baked plate of brownies, and get outside for some physical exercise. Indeed, it's that simple. Eat sensibly and exercise right, and you too can have a decently shaped figure."
Clive was laughing, too. "I've got it, Kristy: You can write a book called the CSYI Diet, and it will instantly become a best-seller."
"What's the CSYI diet?"
Clive grinned wickedly. "Common Sense, You Idiot!"
They were both laughing uncontrollably. "Coming soon to a bookstore near you," Kristy cried, wiping away tears of laughter. It really wasn't all that hilarious, but once Kristy started laughing, she just couldn't stop. And everyone knew that laughter was contagious. Before long, Clive was laughing as much as she was.
"Mommy," Sarah complained from the living room.
"Sorry," Kristy called back. She stifled her laughter and grabbed Clive's hand, jumping up from the table. "Are you all right for awhile, Sarah?"
"Yes."
She led Clive into her bedroom, leaving the door open halfway so that she could still see Sarah in the living room. They sat down on the bed and Clive pulled Kristy into his strong arms, dropping a few light kisses onto her soft brown hair. "Don't worry about a thing, Kristy," he murmured to her. She leaned the back of her head against his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne. She felt safe, safe from accusations and pressures and questions she wasn't ready to answer. She felt protected from anger, loneliness, fear. And she didn't want to let go. Not anytime soon.
She felt sleepy. She closed her eyes, her thoughts drifting from Clive to Stacey and the rest of her old friends. She was keeping it a secret, but she would write a book of her own. She was already started. It would be a memory book, all about the Baby-sitters Club. And maybe, just maybe, if she got it published . . .maybe then she'd be good enough to face everyone again.