surprised Eric would agree to dance lessons,” Carla laughed. “I mean, he can barely put one foot in front of the other sometimes.”
“It’s not for the three of us. It’s only me.”
Dead silence.
Suzanna rejoiced—inwardly. Now she had Carla’s attention.
“Really?” Carla asked.
Suzanna could tell Carla was measuring her words. “You’re going to do something without Fernando and Eric? Is everything OK there? Do you need me to fly down?”
“No . . . Everything is great. I just want a little breathing room.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, ‘why’? You’re always telling me I should be a little more independent and now you’re criticizing me.”
“I am not criticizing you. This just isn’t like you, that’s all.”
“Well, it’s like me now.”
“Okay, whatever,” Carla said.
“Fine.”
“Isn’t Fernando jealous? I think he would love dance lessons.”
“I . . . I . . .”
“Oh my God, Suzanna, you haven’t told them!”
“I just told you—I need a little breathing room. I don’t need their permission to breathe and I don’t need their permission to take dance lessons.”
“I’m not arguing with you.”
“Did Eric ask my permission to go to business school?”
“How should I know?” Carla replied.
“Well, he didn’t. Did Fernando ask my permission to invest in a run-down gymnasium?”
“I’m going with no—just a wild guess.”
“You’re damn right he didn’t.”
“Look, don’t get all defensive about the dance lessons. I think it’s great.”
“You do?”
“I do. Suzanna, you’re almost thirty-three and this is probably the first decision you’ve made on your own. This is very mature of you—except for the lying part.”
“I’m not lying. I’m just evading.”
“OK, this is very mature of you—except for the evading part. Better?”
“Well . . . thanks,” Suzanna said. “Look, I gotta run. Smooch.”
“Smooch.”
Suzanna heard Carla’s phone click off and she stared at her iPhone as if it were going to impart some sort of techno-wisdom. She had almost told Carla why she was taking dance lessons, but decided against it. Carla was a little on the practical side, if truth be told, and Suzanna was pretty sure she would fail to see the charm in the car– bicycle encounter. Carla thought dance lessons were a mature thing to do.
Why muddy the waters?
CHAPTER 5
After getting off the phone with Carla, Suzanna spent a half hour tidying up the office before dinner. She stared in irritation at a pile of receipts sitting on her desk. Now that he was within sight of his business degree, Eric was constantly revolutionizing Suzanna’s bill-paying system. He had started her out slowly, with a software program called Quicken. But as soon as she’d gotten the hang of that, he’d fallen in love with another program that caught his eye, which he then threw over for something even more financially glamorous.
I should have known. He has the same fickle attitude with operating systems as he does with women.
Currently, everything related to expenses and bill-paying was meticulously entered in a computer program called QuickBooks. Eric was very patiently teaching Suzanna how to handle each program, but it always came down to her having to spend an awful lot of time entering numbers into the computer. Suzanna grabbed a handful of receipts and started typing.
The bills could be paid in the time I spend doing this!
As she entered the last bill into the Mac, she glanced at the clock. It was after seven. She’d better start thinking about dinner. Suzanna looked around the office, trying to think of something else to do. She had a habit of keeping an eagle eye on her business, so when she wanted to stall for time, “catching up” was never much of an option. She shut down the computer, locked the office, and headed home.
She walked out into the small yard behind the bookstore and tearoom and headed up the backstairs to the second story. A great feature that she took advantage of
“It’s not for the three of us. It’s only me.”
Dead silence.
Suzanna rejoiced—inwardly. Now she had Carla’s attention.
“Really?” Carla asked.
Suzanna could tell Carla was measuring her words. “You’re going to do something without Fernando and Eric? Is everything OK there? Do you need me to fly down?”
“No . . . Everything is great. I just want a little breathing room.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, ‘why’? You’re always telling me I should be a little more independent and now you’re criticizing me.”
“I am not criticizing you. This just isn’t like you, that’s all.”
“Well, it’s like me now.”
“Okay, whatever,” Carla said.
“Fine.”
“Isn’t Fernando jealous? I think he would love dance lessons.”
“I . . . I . . .”
“Oh my God, Suzanna, you haven’t told them!”
“I just told you—I need a little breathing room. I don’t need their permission to breathe and I don’t need their permission to take dance lessons.”
“I’m not arguing with you.”
“Did Eric ask my permission to go to business school?”
“How should I know?” Carla replied.
“Well, he didn’t. Did Fernando ask my permission to invest in a run-down gymnasium?”
“I’m going with no—just a wild guess.”
“You’re damn right he didn’t.”
“Look, don’t get all defensive about the dance lessons. I think it’s great.”
“You do?”
“I do. Suzanna, you’re almost thirty-three and this is probably the first decision you’ve made on your own. This is very mature of you—except for the lying part.”
“I’m not lying. I’m just evading.”
“OK, this is very mature of you—except for the evading part. Better?”
“Well . . . thanks,” Suzanna said. “Look, I gotta run. Smooch.”
“Smooch.”
Suzanna heard Carla’s phone click off and she stared at her iPhone as if it were going to impart some sort of techno-wisdom. She had almost told Carla why she was taking dance lessons, but decided against it. Carla was a little on the practical side, if truth be told, and Suzanna was pretty sure she would fail to see the charm in the car– bicycle encounter. Carla thought dance lessons were a mature thing to do.
Why muddy the waters?
CHAPTER 5
After getting off the phone with Carla, Suzanna spent a half hour tidying up the office before dinner. She stared in irritation at a pile of receipts sitting on her desk. Now that he was within sight of his business degree, Eric was constantly revolutionizing Suzanna’s bill-paying system. He had started her out slowly, with a software program called Quicken. But as soon as she’d gotten the hang of that, he’d fallen in love with another program that caught his eye, which he then threw over for something even more financially glamorous.
I should have known. He has the same fickle attitude with operating systems as he does with women.
Currently, everything related to expenses and bill-paying was meticulously entered in a computer program called QuickBooks. Eric was very patiently teaching Suzanna how to handle each program, but it always came down to her having to spend an awful lot of time entering numbers into the computer. Suzanna grabbed a handful of receipts and started typing.
The bills could be paid in the time I spend doing this!
As she entered the last bill into the Mac, she glanced at the clock. It was after seven. She’d better start thinking about dinner. Suzanna looked around the office, trying to think of something else to do. She had a habit of keeping an eagle eye on her business, so when she wanted to stall for time, “catching up” was never much of an option. She shut down the computer, locked the office, and headed home.
She walked out into the small yard behind the bookstore and tearoom and headed up the backstairs to the second story. A great feature that she took advantage of
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