California Girls(109)

“I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Take the weekend.”

Finola grinned. “Yes, ma’am. Talk to you on Monday.”

They hung up. Her mind was spinning with possibilities. She started to dial Rochelle only to remember her assistant was moving on. She had a great opportunity here. Dangling New York would be a distraction. Better for Rochelle to become an associate producer here than be Finola’s assistant in New York, assuming the audition turned into an offer.

“I can do it myself,” she said aloud, mostly to hear the words. She had plenty of free time. She would put together an outline for the segments, then talk to the booker about getting the appropriate guests. She was interested in a thoughtful, informative series that helped the viewers. If she got closure herself, well, that was just a bonus.





Chapter Twenty-Eight


“Go back to bed,” Zennie said with a laugh as she drove through the quiet streets of Burbank, just after six in the morning. She adjusted the volume on her speakers so she could hear the Bluetooth call more clearly. “Clark, it’s Saturday. Why are you even awake?”

“You’re pregnant and Ali has a broken arm. That’s going to limit the workforce.”

“It’s an estate sale, not ditch digging. And me being pregnant doesn’t change anything. I’m on my feet all day at work, so I’m used to it.”

“You’re on your feet all day at work, so you should stay off your feet on the weekends. I want to come help.”

“We discussed this at dinner.”

“Yes, we did and you told me no. I’m pushing back.”

Since getting back in touch with her and offering friendship, Clark had been around a lot more than she would have expected. Even more surprising, she kind of liked it. He was steady and calm. Given her current emotional state, those were both qualities she needed right now. True to his word, he hadn’t pressured her about anything. They were hanging out—nothing more.

“Fine,” she said. “Come by around ten and you can man the cash register while I take a thirty-minute break, but then you have to leave.”

“Great. See you at ten. Want me to bring doughnuts?”

She thought about the whole wheat waffle barely covered by nut butter and organic berries she’d had for breakfast and the gross protein shake she’d brought with her.

“I would kill for a maple bar,” she whispered. “But you can’t tell.”

“Your secrets are safe with me. See you soon.”

Zennie was still smiling when she pulled onto her mother’s street. She parked down several houses to give the shoppers the prime spots, grabbed her smoothie and a twenty-ounce BPA-free water bottle Bernie had given her, then walked the quarter block to her mom’s house.

Lights were on and the garage door was open. Zennie spotted Ali sorting contents of boxes onto tables while Finola rolled out racks of clothes. Both sisters smiled at her.

“What time did you get here?” Zennie asked, hugging Ali, then examining her cast.

“I was here at six,” Ali told her with a smug smile. “I’m better than you.”

“I guess so. Let me put all my stuff in the refrigerator, then I’ll be out to help.”

“You can help me carry the tables,” Finola said, then wrinkled her nose. “Can you help me carry the tables?”

Zennie looked at the folding tables stacked in the garage. “They weigh like ten pounds each. Yes, I can manage that.”

She walked into the house and stored her things. Her mother came into the kitchen just as she was heading back to the garage.

“Good,” Mary Jo said. “You’re here. I want to give you something before the estate sale starts.”

“Sure.” Zennie kept her tone upbeat, even as she imagined old posters that were supposed to be donated, or a membership to Match.com. But instead, her mother handed her a box.

Zennie opened it and saw it was filled with baby clothes. There were onesies and dresses with matching frilly hats, tiny shoes and a beautiful crocheted blanket done in different shades of pink.

Her mother watched her. “Those were yours. I rescued them from the sale because, well, I thought you might want them. For the baby.”

Zennie didn’t know what to say. “Mom, I’m not—”

“Keeping the baby. Yes, I’ve accepted I’m never having grandchildren. Finola’s getting a divorce and you’re having a baby for someone else. Ali’s with Daniel now, so maybe they’ll get busy, but with my luck, I just don’t know.” She glared at Zennie. “You girls are not easy. First Ali and Glen break up, then Finola and Nigel. You refuse to commit to a man. God forbid you should fall in love, but have a baby for a friend? Sure. Why not?”

Zennie impulsively hugged her mother. “I love you, Mom. I’m sorry I’m making things hard for you. That was never my goal.”

Her mother hung on tight for a second. “Yes, well, that’s too bad, isn’t it?”

Zennie touched the baby clothes. “Thank you for these. I’m sure Bernie will love them.”

“I don’t care if she does or not. I’m doing it for you. To say that while I’ll never understand, I’m your mother and I love you, too.”