Cookie Cutter Page 23

  “It’s really not that much.”

  Then I figure how much time it will take to make each batch and come up with a little over eight hours of actual baking time.

  I take a deep breath. “This is actually do-able.”

  After making a few calls to get the specifics of what’s needed for the orders, I’m actually excited about this project. Job. Side job.

  * * *

  On my way home, the rain begins. “Awesome.”

  And in the ten minute drive it takes me to pull onto my street, it’s pouring. Not only that, but the puddles have already formed along the side of the house. I shake my head. As inconsequential as it is, I become annoyed at James, once again. He never did get around to filling the dirt in where those dips in the yard were the worst like he’d promised to do over and over and over again.

  I’ll do it myself, this weekend.

  The brakes squeak a tad as I bring the car to a stop in the driveway and I tick off yet another to-do in my head. Why is someone standing on my sidewalk, in the rain, instead of under the front door awning?

  At first glance, I think it’s Carter, but no, it’s not him, they are too small to be Carter. I step out of the car and stop short as I have a better look. It’s definitely not Carter. It’s my ex-best-friend slash home wrecker, Meg.

  Prepared to make a run for the front door and avoid her altogether, I’m surprised when she steps in front of my path, blocking me from my escape into the house. She’s soaking wet but doesn’t seem to care as she peers at me, determined. We stand there face to face for the first time since learning about her and James and unless I want to swim for the back door, I’m going to have to deal with her.

  “I’m not in the mood for this today, Meg,” I holler over the rainfall.

  Thunder cracks overhead.

  I pull my keys out of my purse and walk past her but she won’t let me. “We need to talk.”

  “No.” I shake my head and try to wipe the water out of my face. “We really don’t.”

  This time, I push past her and narrow in on the keyhole I’m about to shove this key into and just when I think I’m free and clear, for now, she yells at me. Yells.

  “I want my Macy’s jacket back.”

  I turn and gape at her. “Excuse me?”

  “The one you borrowed for Halloween last year.” She blinks the water out of her eyes. “When you were freezing your ass off. I want it back.”

  I shoot her a look that I hope relays my utter disgust with her pettiness. “I’ll get you your jacket, Meg, don’t worry.”

  “No, now.” She stands there with her arms crossed now, soaking wet from head to toe.

  “Fine.” If she only knew how ridiculous she looks – and sounds. “Wait here.”

  I step inside and drop my drenched purse and toss the keys to the house down onto the table. Then I storm upstairs to find her precious Macy’s jacket. I find it, in the back of my closet, neatly hung and pressed from when I took it to the cleaners for her after Halloween last year. How I could have forgotten to take it over to her? I almost laugh at how we are always borrowing things from each other but never giving them back. The sick feeling crawls in my stomach because it was only a few nights ago that she admitted to screwing James even before we separated.

  I snatch the jacket on its hanger and fly back down the stairs to find her waiting in the same spot with her arms still crossed like a spoiled child too stubborn to move.

  I walk a few steps out into the yard but refuse to simply hand the jacket over.

  “Here.” I toss it to her.

  She clearly wasn’t expecting me to throw it to her. She tries to catch it but misses and it drops to the ground. Meg stares at it, shocked for a moment – so do I. Part of me feels bad. I know how much it costs to get that thing dry cleaned. When she looks up at me again, she no longer looks defiant. She’s pissed.

  “You . . . bitch!”

  She lunges for me and I try to step out of the way but Meg is quick and strong. She tackles me to the ground and I scream simply out of the unexpectedness of her actions.

  “You think you’re so perfect! I hate you!” She grabs my hair and pulls.

  I’m given the opportunity to push her off of me and run but I don’t. I’m pissed off now, too. So I roll her over and stumble, falling on top of her and putting both of us dangerously close to a mud puddle I happen to know from past experience is at least three inches deep. Maybe more.

  “Says who!” I say as I try to get up.

  Her hands wrap around my ankles and she trips me. I fall again, face first into the grass but that doesn’t stop my feet from becoming soaked as Meg pulls my shoes off.

  “You!” She flails. “And you might not have said it out loud, Iris, but you make sure we all know it without any words at all!”

  “What the hell is going on?”

  It’s Carter. He’s come to break up the catfight of which Meg and I are making ourselves the star felines.

  “She’s . . . crazy!” I tell him breathlessly, trying to grab the hand he offers to help me up but Meg isn’t having any of that. She grabs a hold of my arm and swings me around to face her.

  “I’m the crazy one? Miss I-have-to-work-ten-hours-a-day-so-everyone-sees-me-come-home -last, then bake cookies all night so they see how dedicated I am – and never ever let my daughter go out and have some fun because God forbid, she might realize what a bore I am and never come back!”

  Her words dig and scratch worse than any physical harm she could do to me. Had this been any other time before, I might run and hide and cry in my bathroom for the remainder of the evening, but she’s not dealing with the old Iris, she’s dealing with me.

  My hand inadvertently balls into a fist while she tries to regain her balance and find her stupid jacket, and my arm pulls backwards.

  “Iris,” Carter warns me as I throw the force of my entire body at Meg and deck her right in the mouth.

  “Go Iris!” Alex yells from somewhere behind me and just as I feel as if I want to do a victory dance. I slip and fall right in to that three to five inch mud puddle I was trying to avoid a few minutes ago. Not only that but I pull Carter down with me when I try to grab a hold of him for balance.

  “Shit.” Meg spits blood into a pool of grassy water and feels her lip.

  “Don’t ever come to my house again,” I say, trying to get myself up again.

  “No worries, Iris. I wouldn’t come back if you paid me to be your friend.”

  I push myself up and wave Carter off when he attempts to hold on to me. He doesn’t have to worry about me retaliating anymore. I’m calm now. I push my hair out of my face and look down at Meg. Tears are threatening to pour through.

  “That’s perfect, Meggan. Perfect,” I say as she sits there, trying to catch her breath. “You’re angry with me? Really?”

  She looks up at me.

  “What did I ever do to you?” I pick up my shoes and make my way back to the front door through a squishy lawn and soaking outfit. Carter follows, but not before he tries to hand Meg her jacket. She bats it away. I’m almost inside when I hear her voice again.

  “Iris!”

  I don’t want to hear what she has to say about me anymore but for some reason, I turn to her anyway.

  “I’m sorry,” she chokes.

  And now, I can’t keep the tears from falling anymore. I’m done.

  “I don’t care.”

  At that, I close the door in more ways than one. I stand there staring at it, waiting for answers that will probably never come.

  “Let’s get you outta those clothes.” Carter’s smooth voice soothes some of the pain. He guides me but stops after only a few steps.

  “I don’t know where your bedroom is, Iris.”

  I snap out of my bout with self-pity and lead the way. Carter disappears into the master bathroom for a few minutes while I sit on the edge of my bed. I mourn the loss of a friend I previously considered important in my life but when Carter returns, he
takes it wrong.

  “I um, guess you’re still pretty angry he slept with her, huh?”

  I look up at him standing there trying to be supportive. I try to smile but I’m sure it’s not coming off like I plan. “Would it make sense if I told you I’m more angry that she slept with him?”

  He breathes out heavy and scratches at the back of his neck and nods. “Yeah. Actually it would.”

  I stand and he helps me out of my top and when I lean into him, he holds me for as long as I need him to. Then he kisses the top of my head and gives me one last squeeze before he starts to excuse himself.

  I pull at his hand. “Where are you going?”

  “Iris, I’m not at all knowledgeable on what’s happening here,” he says. “I don’t claim to be perfect and I’m a little turned on right now with you all . . .” He waves me up and down. “Looking vulnerable and beautiful despite those tears you shed, but I’m not about to take advantage of a woman who’s in the emotional state of mind that you’re in right now.”

  I open my mouth to tell him he’s wrong, I’m emotionally unstable all the time, but he stops me.

  “You get cleaned up and dry,” he laughs. “And get some rest. I’ll be back later to check on you.”

  My mouth shuts and I nod. “Okay.”

  “Maybe I’ll bring a movie over and try to get you to grow a liking for horror movies.”

  “I think my life is enough of a horror movie for now, don’t you?”

  He smiles again. “A comedy, then?”

  “Sounds good.” It makes me smile. For real this time.

  He lets himself out and the front door clicks shut. I step out of the rest of my clothes and into the steam filled bathroom. Before I get that shower though, I wipe the fog from my mirror and stare at the reflection of myself for a long while. Some of the things Meg said are right. Although my reasoning may not be what she insinuated, I’m overdoing it. Everything. I don’t know if I know how to stop, either – but I need to try.

  For Ally.

  My renewed sense of purpose gives me just the motivation I need to get up and get a shower. When I’m done and dressed in super comfortable yoga pants and a t-shirt, I make a few appetizer type goodies for when Carter gets here later.

  Two hours in, I’m cleaning up after myself when the door opens.

  “I’m home.” It’s Ally.

  “I thought you’d be home later?” I call out to her.

  “Practice ended early.” Short but not so sweetly.

  “How’d you get . . . oh.”

  James walks behind her. It takes everything I’ve got not throw a fit and toss him out of the house in front of his daughter.

  “Dad was waiting for me at school after practice. He offered me a ride,” Ally says.

  I can only imagine why he’d pull something like this after not having the time of day to spend with her for two years. “Oh.”

  “He’s giving me driving lessons.”

  I look over at him. He’s averting his eyes.

  “Oh.”

  “And might even be able to get me a good deal on one of his old rentals, if I play my cards right.”

  I continue glaring at him until he finally meets my eyes.

  “I see.”

  “Hey, Ally bear,” James says with an uncomfortable tone lingering in his voice. “Why don’t you head on upstairs while I talk to your mom for a minute.”

  “Okay.”

  And to my surprise, she doesn’t bounce over to him and hug him tight around the neck like she used to in light of his newly found attentions. She simply gathers her books that she sat down onto the counter, and heads upstairs, quietly.

  Once she’s out of sight and her door shuts closed, he goes on the defensive. “You can’t tell me not to pick her up from school, Iris.”

  “Where were you last Saturday? It was your weekend? Why didn’t you pick her up that Friday afternoon?”

  “And you can’t tell me not to get her a car, either.”

  “It’s raining out, don’t you think it’s a little dangerous to take your only daughter out driving when she’s never driven before, in the rain?”

  “I’ll do what I want, I’m her father.”

  “Ha! That’s a good one.”

  “I’m sending her on that trip to France with her class at the end of the year too.”

  “Oh really.”

  He nods. “And then I guess we’ll see who she wants to be with.”

  I stare at my ex long and hard. What did I see in him all those years ago? If it weren’t for Ally, I’d call the time I spent with him wasted but as it is, she’s the single most important thing that came out of being with him. I could fight him. Spend all my time competing for Ally’s affections and trust, but honestly, if I don’t have any of that by now, I never will. I throw up the white flag. Virtually speaking that is.

  “Do whatever you want, James. I’m tired.”

  I wipe down the counter, ignoring him altogether, now.

  “Fine we’ll talk tomorrow.”

  I stop and turn to him so as to make sure he understands what I’m about to say. “I don’t mean I’m tired tonight, I mean I’m tired of this.”

  I wave a hand into the air at absolutely nothing. And everything. “Of fighting with you, of . . . of fighting with Ally. Of Trying to live up to some stupid expectation that either you, or me, or . . . whoever put on me at some point.”

  “Are you saying you won’t fight me on taking custody of Ally full time then?”

  “I’m saying if that’s really what she wants, I won’t stop her, because I want what makes her happy.” I let out a short, sarcastic laugh. “But James, be honest with yourself if not with me or your daughter, you don’t want her full time. You haven’t even wanted her part time for the past two years.”

  He never did have a very good poker face but he thinks he does. “Maybe I’ve had a change of heart.”

  “If you have, then, great. By all means, be a part of her life but don’t string her along just to get back at me.”

  James holds my stare for a long while. He could be contemplating his next move or debating what, if anything, he can hold against me – or maybe he’s just tired, too. Either way.

  “I think it’s time for you to go,” I say and although he looks like he might be ready for a repeat of our street fight the other night, I’m not. “Now.”

  I pick up the phone and hold it, ready to dial nine-one-one this time if I have to. But I don’t.

  “Fine.” He breathes out, and turns and strut his way out of my front door, if not my life.

  After the door shuts, I throw the towel down and hang up the phone. I rest my elbows onto the counter and then my head into my hands. I stand there with my eyes closed, simply enjoying the little bit of peace and quiet I’m afforded when there’s a knock at the door again. I groan. Perhaps James left something behind, or maybe he changed his mind about that fight after all. I pull the door open, ready to threaten him with a restraining order.

  “James, I---”

  “Hi.”

  I’m cut off with brown eyes that have become one of my favorite colors in all the world. Carter stands at my door with that Boy Scout smile of his. How I love his smile.

  “Hi.” I return his greeting with a sigh of relief that he’s not my ex.

  “Still up for a movie and popcorn?”

  He holds up a box of microwave popcorn and a plethora of DVDs to choose from. Just like that, the tension between my shoulder blades is gone. The headache I was beginning to get is not there anymore and my breathing becomes easier than it has in days.

  How does he do that?

  I squint my eyes to see what he’s brought me for movie titles and take the one in the middle. Then I laugh because Zombieland doesn’t exactly strike me as funny, or horror, based on the actors playing in it, but it’s perfectly Carter.

  “Definitely.” I open the door wide to let him in.

  Chapter 18. Carter

  My neck is
stiff.

  “Holy.”

  Come to think of it, my entire body aches like it’s been in the plank position for about four days straight. When I open my eyes and look around, I understand why. I’ve been asleep in the sitting position with Iris curled up into my side since about half way through our movie night. The house is dark. Only the glow from the television sheds light and based on the fact that Jesse Eisenberg is giving us the rules of Zombieland again, I’m guessing the movie started itself over after we dozed off. I force my joints to work and slip out from under Iris so I can stand up and stretch. I roll my neck to try and relieve the kink that’s formed. And when I think about waking her, I simply can’t. She’s too damn cute when she’s slobbering all over her pillow, like that.

  Ally never did come downstairs after I got here. Not even to eat. Iris made a judgment call and left a plate of food out for her but it still sits where she left it, untouched. I don’t know much about the intricacies of how girls work but I know teenagers. Not much, granted, but enough. I feel for Iris. She’s got a long ways to go with this one, but if I know her at all, she’ll get through it. So will her daughter. With no help from the ex to boot. I lean down and curl her up into my arms then I take her down the short hallway to her room.

  “Seems like I’m always putting you to bed, Iris.” I kick the door open and I do try to be quiet about it but Iris jerks awake enough to nuzzle her nose into my neck.

  She breathes me in and hums. “You smell good.”

  Her voice is tired and it’s seductive as hell. It makes me want to slide that shirt up and re-visit a certain ticklish spot she has. When she presses a gentle kiss against my skin, just below my ear, a shiver forms at the back of my neck and travels down my spine. It’s a good shiver.

  “That’s no way to test my gentleman instincts, Iris.” I lower her onto the bed but she doesn’t let me go. She moves her lips to mine and it’s a sleepy kiss but a needy one as well.

  I groan and pull away from her, but only a tiny bit.

  “I’m not falling for the old, I need to connect with someone routine, this time, Miss.” I try to say it like I mean it but I smile, despite my good intentions.