Nobody’s Perfect

Chapter 24

The next day we gathered in our usual spot. Mom joined us, complete with her own Mom Scouts tumbler that had arrived earlier that afternoon. I d made a video about merchandise and already had twenty orders.

I made next to nothing from merchandise sold, but I had to generate any income I could because I was up to three whole job opportunities. The most recent? Selling knives door-to-door or selling sketchy insurance over the phone.

I wasn t that desperate yet, but I was getting there.

But I wasn t about to think about anything depressing-not on Wine Down Wednesday, thank you very much.

What are we drinking? I asked Rachel.

This is a Silverado Solo.

Nice.

Do I want to know how much this bottle cost? Mom asked.

Probably not, I said before launching into the one question I had for the evening. Rachel, I ve been invited to an influencer event in New York where two guests and I can get a makeover. I was wondering if you would like to go.

When?

Not this weekend but the next.

She paused to think. I don t know. We re in the middle of testing.

On a weekend?

I ll go if she doesn t want to, Mom said.

I m going, Abi said.

Rachel relaxed, reminding me that she d been keeping Abi s secret. Well, if you re going, then I suppose I could.

Hardly the enthusiastic response I d hoped for. I would have wondered if she was still mad at me about missing her birthday, but she was wearing the scarf I d given her.

Mom took another sip of wine. Was she pouting? The thought hadn t crossed my mind to ask her if she wanted to go. I guess it should have.

How is the YouTube business going? asked Abi.

If only likes and shares translated directly into dollars and cents, I said. I m going to need to get a real job, and the search isn t going well.

What about him? Rachel asked, jerking a thumb in the direction of the house.

Oh, I think he ll be leaving soon, Mom said with a smile.

Really?

I looked over my shoulder before telling them about changing the Wi-Fi password, underwear Jeopardy , cabbage suppers, and the rotten potatoes, which, truth be told, were beginning to be a bit much for me.

I m glad you re not mad at me, Rachel said.

Seriously, why would I be mad at you? It wasn t your idea for my husband to have an affair with your sister.

No, but she is still my sister, and I was the one who suggested that Mitch hire her.

It is what it is, I said.

She s pregnant, Rachel said in a dull voice.

Of course she is. There was only one thing I had trouble giving him, so of course his new younger girlfriend got pregnant at the drop of a hat.

My fingers tightened around my tumbler, and I was glad it was stainless steel instead of glass.

Mazel tov, I said with a mock toast.

We sat in silence for a few minutes after that declaration.

George walked up the hill with Rucker and his red Solo cup.

Hey, George, we all said.

Hello. Getting kind of chilly, isn t it?

We ll probably have to move indoors soon, yes, Rachel said while she poured.

I m gonna miss you ladies then, he said with a lift of his glass.

Take care, George! I called.

Huh, he didn t mention if Dawn was coming, Rachel said.

Nope, Abi said. If she were coming, then he d be walking faster. And he would ve chugged his wine instead of sipping it.

Good points, both.

So if we run off to New York the weekend after next, what will you do? Abi asked Mom.

I will be sleeping in, Mom announced.

A wise choice, Mrs. . . . ?

Quarles, Mom supplied.

Poor Rachel. Mom would change her last name to something else soon enough, and we d all forget that one, too. If I d been her, I would ve quit changing my name after husband number two, but either the woman got a perverse joy from hanging out at the DMV or she was the world s greatest optimist.

I was sad to hear you were going through a divorce, too, Mrs. Quarles, said Abi.

Oh, girls, call me Heidi, for heaven s sake. And don t worry about me. I found a new therapist, and she s really helped me see some things about myself.

You have a therapist, too? asked Rachel, eyes wide in the excitement of shared experience.

Abi and I exchanged an oh-Lord-there-they-go-talking-about-therapy look. I zoned out until Mom said, Well, when I figured out that I d been getting married because I thought I ought to be married, that was a real eye-opening moment. I don t think I m going to marry again. If I meet a nice person-unlikely at my age-then we ll just have to shack up.

I spewed my very expensive wine.

No, on second thought, I m keeping my own place. We ll just get together when we want to.

Abi and Rachel agreed with this sound logic, but I was still looking at my mother, the woman who wanted to live in geriatric sin.

It s just . . . it was different when I was younger, Mom said. The women s movement hadn t happened, and marriage was . . . expected. We were all supposed to pick a husband and have kids. I thought I d picked a nice man. I mean, I guess he was okay, but the minute we were married he expected me to defer to him.

Abi and Rachel murmured sounds of encouragement, utterly oblivious to my suffering.

Sometimes I wonder if I ever liked men at all or if that was something else society foisted on me.

I choked on my wine again.

Mom whacked me on the back. Are you okay, Vivian? You seem to be having some kind of fit this evening.

I m fine, Mom. My voice came out as a croak.

You know, I really expected you not to be such a stick-in-the-mud about such things, Mom said.

I m cool, I m cool. I m just adjusting, I said.

Well, for heaven s sake, don t marry again quickly. Take your time after Mitch. Better to be alone than to be with the wrong person.

Who was this woman? Had aliens replaced my mother? I studied her, trying to find the flaws in the extraterrestrial engineering. If anything, they d made a better, healthier version of my mother: rosy cheeks, thick salt-and-pepper hair she kept stylishly short. She had a glow about her and was trimmer than she d been the last time I d seen her.

Just seeing my mother as a woman-a happy woman at that-gave me another shred of hope to put in my little ragbag of faith. Maybe she and Rachel were right about this therapy thing. I knew she was right about how it would be better to be with no one than to be with the wrong person. Only, if I thought too much about all the time I d wasted catering to Mitch, I would be crying in seconds.

Dylan. If it weren t for your life with Mitch, then you wouldn t have Dylan. You re forty-four. Not dead.

No, but my lower back sometimes felt as if death might be preferable.

Don t even joke about it.

True, I had a lot to be thankful for. My original video was now close to five million views, but the Mr. Always video was rapidly gaining on it. Mom was helping me with Operation Get Mitch Out of My House. I had two good friends and an excellent glass of wine.

Most importantly, I had a happy and healthy son.

A door slammed across the cul-de-sac, and everyone turned to see Parker headed our way at a rather rapid clip.

Speaking of Mr. Always . . .

Vivian, he said, jaw tight from either annoyance or anger. Could I speak with you for a moment?

My heart landed somewhere on the asphalt between my feet. I didn t want to know, but I stepped away from everyone and asked, What happened?

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before running a hand through his hair in frustration and pinching the bridge of his nose. Someone figured out my phone number, and now I m getting random texts from women asking me out.

Oh no. The interview on television. Alavita had asked all the right questions for people to connect the dots, and I d stupidly said Parker s name. Oh, Parker, I am so sorry. I didn t mean-

I m sure you didn t mean to tell the world who I was, but you did.

I m so, so sorry.

Sorry doesn t keep me from having to change my phone number. And it doesn t keep people from contacting my daughter , who had to change all her privacy settings on Instagram.

Oh God. Poor Cassidy.

She was thirteen, the age of ultimate mortification, and she d already been worried someone would see him buying pads and tampons. I dearly hoped her friends hadn t found out. At least she wasn t getting random texts.

You might find a date? I suggested with a weak smile.

His eyes bored through me. I don t want to date random women I ve never met before.

Okay, so that joke wasn t funny, I said.

No, no it wasn t.

Something about his tone caused my hackles to rise. None of this was intentional, and I d tried to keep his personal information away from my viewers. It was an accident, Parker. I didn t think-

That I can believe. You really weren t thinking.

His words reminded me of all the times Mitch had said the exact same thing, and I couldn t have stopped the flash of anger if I wanted to.

I asked you before I posted it! I tried to keep your privacy intact. My blood pressure rose in response to an argument I d had so many times before. Only this time, I wasn t going to back down. I would never back down again because, well, look at how backing down had gone for me in the past.

I know that, he said. But you also had a better idea of what viral would mean.

Parker, you have to believe me. I sure as heck didn t think anyone would cyberstalk you to the point where they would find your number, much less have the balls to call or text you! Especially not ask you out. Do you have your phone number visible on your Facebook or LinkedIn or something?

From the way the color drained from his face, I could tell he did. I should ve taken that as enough of a victory, but I couldn t help adding, Okay, so now who wasn t thinking?

As the words left my mouth, they felt wrong, but I couldn t seem to stop them.

Vivian. His tone was half exasperation and half irritation.

I d gone too far. I knew I was in the wrong and should apologize. But he hadn t accepted any of my apologies thus far, and I was sick and tired of apologizing. Instead of giving in again, I met his glare.

He was the first to look away. You know what? Forget it.

As he stalked off, my anger was immediately replaced with something akin to despair. I had no business having a crush on him, but I also hadn t meant to air his business on television so thoroughly. Weary, I returned to my chair and collapsed in it.

Whoa, Vivian, Rachel said. I don t know everything that is going on here, but I think you may be taking out some old issues on Parker.

He started it, I said stubbornly.

No, you started it, Mom said.

Anger flashed through me. Would it hurt her to take my side just once?

I didn t do it on purpose! I don t know what I m doing here!

Yes, but if you re going to make this YouTube channel a thing, then you need to learn-and quick. I don t know Parker that well, but he doesn t seem much like Mitch.

I sagged into my chair, prey to another one of Mom s guilt trips. I ll try to apologize again tomorrow.

Mom s gaze softened. Don t worry. This will all blow over.

What was that all about anyway? asked Rachel.

I explained the Friday morning period emergency and showed them the little video.

Yeah, you probably shouldn t have made a video about that, Abi said. And you sure shouldn t have mentioned his name to Alavita.

Yes, Abi s good friend Alavita who basically hung me out to dry. You could ve poked me or something to keep me from saying it.

You know I can t think straight before coffee.

I rolled my eyes.

What? Abi persisted. I thought for sure they d have coffee for us.

Mom took a sip of wine. I wonder how his daughter feels about all this?

My stomach clenched at the thought of Cassidy, but I wasn t going to admit that to Mom.

I m sure she s fine, I said. She knows how to put controls on her social media.

If you say so, Mom said, her tone positively infuriating.

Curse Alavita Hodges for asking me all those probing questions.

I should ve never made a video. I should delete the whole channel.

Don t throw the baby out with the bathwater now. Mom took another sip.

I looked around the group from person to person. I thought the channel might be the answer to my prayers. I don t want to move, y all.

We don t want you to move, either, Rachel said. But have you considered just getting a regular job?

Anger snapped behind my eyes, and I tasted bile. Did they really think I hadn t been trying to find a job? I ve submitted almost a hundred applications, and the only people who ve responded are that door-to-door knife company and the telemarketing sales thing.

Those aren t great jobs, Abi said, her tone suggesting a peace offering.

Well, it s better than nothing, Rachel said, obviously ready to double down.

I opened my mouth to answer, when Mom added, What would she do? Retail? She never finished her degree.

Shame burned through me like the world s worst hot flash. Abi and Rachel didn t know about my lack of a degree. They assumed I had one, and I d never bothered to correct them.

Yeah, because you ve been too ashamed to tell the truth, which is ridiculous. A degree doesn t mean a person is more intelligent or capable. It s just a piece of paper.

But you said-

No, Abi. I just never corrected you.

But why not just tell us? asked Rachel.

Because, well, because both of you are so educated. You have your doctorate, for heaven s sake. But I m beginning to wonder if even someone with a degree would be having problems if she hasn t filled out a job application since we were all dancing the Macarena.

Mom took another sip of wine, apparently fascinated with Parker s house. Neither Abi nor Rachel had anything to say to that. Were they judging me? Thinking of ways to help? Thinking that this was what I deserved for not finishing college?

You could always go back to school, Rachel said.

Spoken like a true teacher.

How am I going to pay for tuition, Rach?

Loans? asked Abi.

And how will I get those without someone cosigning for the woman who doesn t have a job?

No one had an answer for that.

Well, good.

Maybe I had made the bed I was lying in, but I d smoothed over that duvet in good faith. My only mistake had been believing Mitch was serious when he said he d love and take care of me forever. Silly me. I d thought we were partners.

We ll help however we can, Rachel said.

Absolutely, said Abi.

Mom chose that moment to meet my eyes. Her eyes told me my friends meant well, but they could do only so much. Quietly, she added, Maybe it s time for you to pound the pavement.