Debbie Macomber

Thursdays at Eight


Скачать книгу

come out of a booth.

      “Thought I’d find you in here,” he said, flashing a smile. Oh, yeah, he was the California poster boy, all right, with his gorgeous white teeth, whiter than ever against the tan, and his sun-streaked blond hair.

      “You were looking for me?” Her ego wasn’t immune to having this hunk seek her out, especially here, where everyone knew her. They’d been together some in high school, but nothing serious. Her mother’s generation called it dating, but all Karen and Jeff had really done was hang out together. They were part of the acting ensemble, and their commitment had been to that, which left little time for anything social.

      “I’ve been thinking about what you said.” Jeff leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I’m impressed with your determination. You believe in yourself.”

      “Jeff, you’ve got as much talent as I do. You can make it, I know you can.”

      “Yeah, I know, but it takes more than talent.”

      Talent was cheap, Karen knew that; she ran into it everywhere. And as Jeff said, it wasn’t enough. What made the difference was drive, determination and plain old-fashioned stubbornness.

      A slim strawberry blonde with her hair tied back in a ponytail came into the coffee shop and walked up to the counter, where she placed her order. Jeff’s attention drifted from Karen to the blonde. She wore navy-blue spandex and a matching sports bra, her face glistening with sweat. It was obvious that she’d recently been at the gym.

      “You know her?” Karen asked.

      “She’s in one of my classes, along with her sugar daddy.”

      Karen stared. It couldn’t be, could it? She’d once been at the mall with Clare, meeting for lunch, when a pert blond woman, younger than Karen, had emerged from Victoria’s Secret. Clare had pointed her out. Could this be the woman Clare’s husband had dumped her for? Miranda Something? Nah. The world got smaller all the time, but it wasn’t that small. “What’s the name?” she asked.

      “Miranda.”

      “No kidding! What about the sugar daddy?”

      Jeff frowned as he mulled over the question. “I don’t remember.”

      “It isn’t Michael, is it?”

      His eyes widened. “I think it might be. Yeah, I think it is. You know him?”

      “Of him,” she muttered, checking out the other woman. So this was Miranda. Clare had told her a bit of the story; Liz had told her more, and over the last few months, Karen had picked up a few of the nastier details.

      “He dumped his family for her.”

      Jeff’s attention went back to Miranda. “She’s not bad-looking,” he said thoughtfully.

      “What’s Michael like?”

      Jeff frowned again. “You interested in him?”

      “No.” She wanted to clobber him for being so stupid. “He was married to a friend of mine. Tell me about him.”

      Jeff seemed to be at a loss. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Personality-wise he seems all right, but he’s not much of an athlete. He had trouble keeping up with the class. Must’ve dropped out because I haven’t seen him around lately.”

      “But you’ve seen Miranda?”

      “Oh yeah, she’s there.”

      “Really?” Karen’s gaze narrowed as she studied the other woman more closely. “What do you think she sees in him?” she asked Jeff.

      “The sugar daddy?” Jeff said. “What they all see. He’s got money to burn.”

      Karen shook her head. “There’s got to be more than that.”

      “Why do you care?”

      “I don’t. I told you, it’s just that I know his ex-wife and I’m curious.”

      Jeff raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Miranda’s okay, I guess. I don’t know why she hooked up with this older guy, but as far as I’m concerned, to each his—or her—own. It’s not exactly unusual, Karen. I see this sort of thing at the gym. The older men come in and hit on the younger women all the time. It’s part of life in the fast lane.”

      “That doesn’t bother you?”

      “Me?” Jeff laughed. “Hey, I get more attention than I can handle. I’m happy to share the wealth.”

      “I wonder where he is this afternoon.” Karen wondered aloud.

      “Michael? Either she completely exhausted him and he’s still too weak to get out of bed, or he’s hard at work, keeping Miranda in the style to which she’s become accustomed.”

      Karen doubted that. Clare’s attorneys had taken her ex to the car wash. If Michael Craig was hard at work, the pennies weren’t being spent on Miranda. Looking at the other woman, Karen felt a pang of something approaching pity. There had to be a real lack in this girl’s life, or she wouldn’t have hooked up with a man old enough to be her father.

      

       January 16th

      The first few times I filled in as a substitute were fun, but lately it’s gotten to be like real work. Maybe it’s because I’ve been with a group of junior-high kids all week. They wear me out fast. Makes me wonder if I was that energetic at their age.

      Today I got smart. Instead of standing at the front of the class all day yelling at kids who have no intention of listening, I brought in a huge bag of mini-chocolate bars. That got their interest. Why did it take me so long to figure out that a little thing like bribery would tame the savage beasts? (Yes, I know I’m misquoting!)

      Mom phoned. It’s the first I’ve heard from her since Christmas. She wants to take me to lunch on Saturday. I agreed before I learned that Victoria was coming, too. Mom did that on purpose. She knows how I feel about Victoria. We don’t get along. Why should we, seeing that we don’t have a thing in common? Mom dotes on her precious Victoria. My entire childhood, I was treated like an outcast because I wasn’t like my perfect-in-every-way older sister. Apparently, all that’s changed since I started teaching. Now that I’m respectably employed (even if it’s only part-time) Mom’s free to brag about me to her friends, too.

      As soon as I learned Victoria would be at lunch, I should’ve found an excuse to get out of it, especially when Mother told me we’d be going to the Yacht Club. But with my current cash-flow difficulties, I’m not above accepting a free lunch.

      Jeff’s been interesting lately. He seems to be fired up about acting again and asked if I’d recommend my agent. I was happy to pass on Gwen’s phone number and apparently they’re talking. I don’t know if she’ll take him on or not; that’s not my decision. Jeff took me to dinner to thank me. There’s a great Mexican place close to the gym. It was good to see him and talk shop, to recharge my own enthusiasm. Focus, that’s what it’s all about. No one else is going to do this for me.

      I’m still bummed about not getting the toilet-brush commercial, but Gwen said the feedback from the director was positive. She’s planning to send me for another audition with the same guy, although she warned me this next one involves a dog. She didn’t say what kind, and asked if I liked puppies. Who doesn’t? But let’s not forget what W. C. Fields said about working with kids and dogs…Anyway, the director liked me, but didn’t think I was right for the role of fastidious housewife. I guess he must’ve taken a look at my apartment. Cleanliness and order aren’t exactly my forte. If God had meant women to do housework, He wouldn’t have created men first.

      Chapter Four

      JULIA MURCHISON

      “Parenthood: that state of being better chaperoned than you were before marriage.”

      —Madeline