someone named Savannah ? Ha! Think of their names together. Christian Savannah… sounds like some kind of missionary camp in Africa.”
Tired of the banter, I sighed, cradling my head in my hands. “Do you want to meet her for yourself? Maybe that would convince you.”
“No, no. I’m just playing devil’s advocate. Honestly, I trust your judgment in these matters. You are the more critical one.”
My head snapped up. “Not true.”
“When it comes to Christian’s girlfriends it is. You hated Marcy. And Tara. And Jeanine.”
“I did not hate any of them. I just want him to find someone good enough for him. So, I’m trying to do the work for him this time, find her myself.” I leaned back in the squishy, well-worn armchair and closed my eyes. “Look, it’s not like I’m arranging a marriage or anything.”
“You might be. He’s desperate to walk down that aisle. You know that.” Kendra yawned, stretching her arms above her head and her toes to the end of the couch. “I just want Christian to meet someone that isn’t a total weirdo.”
“And you can promise me that Savannah’s not a total weirdo?” She sat up on her elbows, regarding me with a well-practiced look of disbelief. I hesitated, a mistake when dealing with an incredulous Kendra. “I mean, how much can you really learn by working with someone, Tess? I work with Raoul and I know he has three baby mamas, child support bills bigger than my mortgage, and a gold tooth I’d like to punch right out of his face, but what do I know about him?”
“Doesn’t he play Scrabble every Friday?” I grinned at her, but she just scoffed at my bad joke. I didn’t want to admit it, but she had a point. Crazed women were really good at hiding their craze from one another. I’m sure Lorena Bobbit’s friends were stunned to hear she’d cut of her husband’s—ahem— member , thinking, “That Lorena just seemed so level-headed.” Then there was that crazy astronaut lady who drove cross-country in a diaper and a jealous rage—I’m sure the screening committee at NASA was not expecting that one. Could Savannah be a psycho girlfriend waiting to strike? I knew nothing of either her feelings on cleavers or adult diapers. If she did have a screw loose, how could I risk Christian’s safety like that?
“You know, it’s amazing that anyone dates these days,” I said after a moment. “You’re lucky you’re not out there in that mess anymore.”
“And YOU are?” Riley started to stir, so Kendra shut off the baby monitor, got up, and stretched. I thought I was off the hook until she turned, halfway up the stairs. “Speaking of, how are your prospects lately? Or are you only pimping out your coworkers for other people these days?”
I crossed my arms. “I think your son needs you.”
“Uh huh. But when I get back, no more deflecting,” Kendra skipped into Riley’s nursery, where I could hear her cooing Mommy-like greetings to her little boy. I loved listening to her talk to Riley, especially when she thought I couldn’t hear her. High school Kendra would’ve punched me in the face if I told her how enthusiastically she would one day extol the virtues of a poopy diaper.
In the meantime, I wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. Grant was overtaking the kitchen table with his books, newspapers and laptop, a usual weekend occurrence at the Peterson household. He startled a bit at my sudden appearance.
“Hey there,” he smiled briefly, then continued speed-typing. “Big deadline Monday.”
“No worries.” Grant worked from home as a freelance writer, so he spent most days with Riley, working at night and on Kendra’s days off. I poured a glass of water from the Brita and slid into the kitchen chair across from him. “What’s the topic du jour?”
“Re-tiling your bathroom.” He sighed. “It’s for a home improvement magazine.”
“Do you know how to re-tile a
Tired of the banter, I sighed, cradling my head in my hands. “Do you want to meet her for yourself? Maybe that would convince you.”
“No, no. I’m just playing devil’s advocate. Honestly, I trust your judgment in these matters. You are the more critical one.”
My head snapped up. “Not true.”
“When it comes to Christian’s girlfriends it is. You hated Marcy. And Tara. And Jeanine.”
“I did not hate any of them. I just want him to find someone good enough for him. So, I’m trying to do the work for him this time, find her myself.” I leaned back in the squishy, well-worn armchair and closed my eyes. “Look, it’s not like I’m arranging a marriage or anything.”
“You might be. He’s desperate to walk down that aisle. You know that.” Kendra yawned, stretching her arms above her head and her toes to the end of the couch. “I just want Christian to meet someone that isn’t a total weirdo.”
“And you can promise me that Savannah’s not a total weirdo?” She sat up on her elbows, regarding me with a well-practiced look of disbelief. I hesitated, a mistake when dealing with an incredulous Kendra. “I mean, how much can you really learn by working with someone, Tess? I work with Raoul and I know he has three baby mamas, child support bills bigger than my mortgage, and a gold tooth I’d like to punch right out of his face, but what do I know about him?”
“Doesn’t he play Scrabble every Friday?” I grinned at her, but she just scoffed at my bad joke. I didn’t want to admit it, but she had a point. Crazed women were really good at hiding their craze from one another. I’m sure Lorena Bobbit’s friends were stunned to hear she’d cut of her husband’s—ahem— member , thinking, “That Lorena just seemed so level-headed.” Then there was that crazy astronaut lady who drove cross-country in a diaper and a jealous rage—I’m sure the screening committee at NASA was not expecting that one. Could Savannah be a psycho girlfriend waiting to strike? I knew nothing of either her feelings on cleavers or adult diapers. If she did have a screw loose, how could I risk Christian’s safety like that?
“You know, it’s amazing that anyone dates these days,” I said after a moment. “You’re lucky you’re not out there in that mess anymore.”
“And YOU are?” Riley started to stir, so Kendra shut off the baby monitor, got up, and stretched. I thought I was off the hook until she turned, halfway up the stairs. “Speaking of, how are your prospects lately? Or are you only pimping out your coworkers for other people these days?”
I crossed my arms. “I think your son needs you.”
“Uh huh. But when I get back, no more deflecting,” Kendra skipped into Riley’s nursery, where I could hear her cooing Mommy-like greetings to her little boy. I loved listening to her talk to Riley, especially when she thought I couldn’t hear her. High school Kendra would’ve punched me in the face if I told her how enthusiastically she would one day extol the virtues of a poopy diaper.
In the meantime, I wandered into the kitchen for a glass of water. Grant was overtaking the kitchen table with his books, newspapers and laptop, a usual weekend occurrence at the Peterson household. He startled a bit at my sudden appearance.
“Hey there,” he smiled briefly, then continued speed-typing. “Big deadline Monday.”
“No worries.” Grant worked from home as a freelance writer, so he spent most days with Riley, working at night and on Kendra’s days off. I poured a glass of water from the Brita and slid into the kitchen chair across from him. “What’s the topic du jour?”
“Re-tiling your bathroom.” He sighed. “It’s for a home improvement magazine.”
“Do you know how to re-tile a
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