California Girls(68)

Ali smiled at her. “I’m so impressed you’re doing this. It’s the most selfless act, right up there with donating a kidney.”

Zennie flushed. “It’s not like that.”

“It kind of is.”

Finola wanted to scream that she was impressive, too, and Ali had always liked her best. When they’d been kids, Ali had been her shadow. Ali had been the one to admire her and tell Finola how she was going to be a famous journalist, that she would go into dangerous places and do incredible investigative journalism. That had been Finola’s dream, too. When she’d gotten the job at the LA affiliate, she’d hoped to start digging deep into complicated stories that would change people’s lives. Instead she’d been the weekend anchor and then she’d gotten the job on AM SoCal and well, it had been a while since she’d reported on anything.

“I hope everything goes well for you,” Finola said, fighting a sour taste in her mouth.

Zennie smiled. “I’m sure it will. Now what’s for lunch?”

They ate the sandwiches and talked about everything from work to their mother’s determination to downsize to a beach cottage.

“Her commute to work is going to be awful,” Ali said. “Now she only has to go from Burbank to Sherman Oaks, but getting into the valley from the beach is going to be a nightmare.”

Finola had to agree. The whole “going against traffic” thing didn’t exist—not in LA.

“Maybe she’s going to quit her job and do something else,” Finola offered. “She never wanted to go into retail in the first place. Managing the boutique had never been her dream.”

Ali looked doubtful. “Do you think she wants to get into acting?”

Mary Jo had always talked fondly about her brief acting career, when she’d been young. She’d moved to Hollywood like so many other young women, hoping for a big break. Instead she’d gotten walk-ons and the occasional line in a movie. But at one of those jobs, she’d met a handsome young actor named Leo and they’d fallen deeply in love. They’d married quickly and Finola had come along. Leo’s career had taken off and Mary Jo had been happy to take care of her daughter and go on location with Leo. When he’d unexpectedly passed away, Mary Jo had been devastated.

Finola knew all that secondhand. While in theory, she’d been around for some of it, she didn’t remember her biological father. She had no flashes of memory or bits of recollections. She’d seen the pictures her mother had kept and had listened to the stories and watched his movies, but for her, Leo was nothing but a story her mother told and an actor she saw in old movies.

“She doesn’t talk to me,” Zennie said cheerfully. “Maybe she could get a job managing a boutique by the beach. There are lots of stores there. She has her theater group she hangs out with. They might be able to help her find something closer to home.”

“I’ll let you discuss that,” Ali said with a grin. “I’m not brave enough to have that conversation with Mom.”

“Not me,” Zennie said, pointing her fork at Finola. “That would be your job. You two are the tight ones.”

“That’s right.” Ali shrugged. “You and Mom, Zennie and Dad and me by myself.”

Zennie bumped shoulders with her. “We all love you, little Ali.”

Something flashed in Ali’s eyes, then disappeared. “Yeah, that’s what I hear. Anyway, let’s not plan her life for her. I say we leave her to figure it out herself.”

“Good idea,” Finola said quietly, thinking how estranged she felt from her entire family. It was as if she only knew them from a distance.

When her sisters left, she cleaned up the kitchen, then walked into her bedroom. Her room was a mess, with her computer open on the table and clothes scattered everywhere. She told herself she should clean up but instead collapsed on the bed and rolled onto her back. She pulled an old, tattered teddy bear to her chest and wrapped her arms around it as tears spilled from her eyes and rolled into her hair.

She wasn’t a bad person, she told herself. She wasn’t. She was smart and funny and kind. The problem was there was so much going on and she just couldn’t seem to get her mind around how everything had changed. With Nigel, of course, but also with her sisters. She couldn’t believe Zennie was a surrogate for one of her friends. It was an insane decision and one that had so many opportunities for disaster. Seriously, what had she been thinking? Only Zennie was certainly at peace with her decision and Ali was acting like Zennie had just walked on water. It was disconcerting and uncomfortable and strange.

Finola told herself it was okay for Ali to admire Zennie for this and that it was no reflection on her as a person. But she knew in her gut she could never be as selfless. She just couldn’t. If she was going to have a baby, she was going to keep it herself.

Without wanting to, she remembered what her stepfather had said. That regardless of what had happened, some of the failure of her marriage was her fault. She didn’t want to believe that, only she couldn’t seem to dismiss his point. The stupid concept kept coming back to her, as if daring her to admit some of the fault was hers. But even if she did admit the premise had some merit, what could she have possibly done to deserve Nigel cheating on her like that?

She sat up and swung her feet onto the floor. What if, she thought reluctantly, not wanting to entertain the idea but unable to let it go. What if Nigel had cheated with a normal person? How would this all be different? What if he hadn’t cheated at all? What if he’d just left her?