Some Lucky Woman Page 3

  “Hey, Makeda! You have anything good for me today?”

  Mak shook her head. “Sorry, girl. You’ve read us out of our new books. I’ve never seen anyone read as many books as you do.”

  My shoulders drooped. What was I going to do? I’d made a whopping twenty-five dollars on my site last month. Although I could see it inching up, it was a slow process. I definitely didn’t have the budget to buy a book a day.

  I sighed. “I don’t have a lot of other things to do. My son stays busy fifteen hours a day. And the more books I write reviews about, the more people I have that come to my website.”

  “Girl, I didn’t know you reviewed books.” Mak whooshed her long obsidian-colored braids over her shoulder. I loved the relaxing clicking that the beads made when she ambled around the library, returning books and helping readers find something. I imagined that some day, a little girl would hear the familiar sound and be transported back to her early days of discovering books.

  I tilted my head at her statement, though, wondering what difference it made. “Does that mean you have more books?” I laughed. “Does the library keep a secret stash for book reviewers?”

  Mak spurt out a laugh, then covered her mouth as she glanced around the quiet library. “You don’t have to check out books or buy them, Jana. If you’re a reputable book blogger, authors’ll send them to your doorstep.”

  Now I really was confused. “Why would an author send me a book?”

  Mak leaned over the counter, but then stood upright again. “Linda, watch the desk for a moment, will you?”

  Linda left her task of checking in books and came out to the front counter.

  Mak walked around the desk and took my arm, leading me to the shelves of romance books. She ran her index finger along the spines, and then pulled down a book with a beautiful bright blue cover. “I was waiting to show you these … until I had an idea of what you liked.”

  I trailed my fingers around the edges, anxious to dig in. “I like to read almost everything.”

  Mak giggled quietly. “I noticed. But … that’s my book. And I like to make sure someone will enjoy it before I recommend it.”

  “Your book?” I flipped the book over, and sure enough, Makeda’s beautiful smile lit up the back flap. I hugged it to my chest. “I can’t wait to read it. I’ve never met an author before. How exciting.”

  Mak flicked her hand upward as though she were waving away a gnat. “Girl, I’m just me. I’m published by an independent publisher. And there’re a lot of us Indie authors. As I was saying, just put a link on your website for authors to submit their books to you, and you’ll get more books than you can read.”

  I scanned the first few pages, glancing at the copyright page and such. It looked like every other book I’d read. “I hate to sound naïve, but that just doesn’t make sense.”

  Mak shrugged. “Authors need reviews. Especially new authors. But I’ll warn you upfront, not all independent and self-published writers should be authors. There are a lot of great ones, but there are also a lot of poor writers who choose to self-publish but don’t spend the time or money to find an editor. We have authors bringing us books all the time, so we’ve learned to check them out first.” Mak leaned toward my ear. “You know, you can’t always judge a book by its cover — good or bad.” She laughed softly, then headed back to the front counter.

  I reached to the shelf and pulled down the rest of the books with Makeda’s name; it appeared they were part of a series, which I loved.

  Toting the three books, I headed to the checkout desk and pulled out my card. “I’ll have all three book reviews up on the site in the next few days. They’re available on Amazon, right?”

  “They are,” Mak said. “And thank you. I’ll look for them, and … I’ll make sure I share. Of course, that should go without saying, but not all authors understand that we help ourselves by helping others. There are a lot of readers out there. It doesn’t hurt my book, one little bit, to recommend other books. In fact, I usually pick up readers, as those readers and authors end up sharing my books. It’s just like the circle of life.” Mak focused her gaze on me. “You want me to send some authors your way?”

  “Would you?”

  “I’ll post your info on my Facebook fan page and Twitter account when I take my lunch break.”

  “Thanks, Makeda.” As Mac had said … You can’t always judge a book by its cover — good or bad. I’d befriended a librarian volunteer, not knowing she was an author who might be able to help me get the word out on my website. I gathered up my books and turned to leave, but spun back to her. “Hey, does anyone call you anything but Makeda?”

  She flashed her signature smile, the same one she wore for her author profile picture. “My friends call me Mak.”

  “I like it! Thanks, Mak!”

  Chapter 4 – A New Roommate

  I sat across the table from my date, Declan. Although Angela and Paul hadn’t actually mentioned that they’d planned to have extra company for dinner, it was clear that I was being set up.

  Not that Declan wasn’t good-looking or nice enough, but I’d told Angela a hundred times that I wasn’t ready to date. It had only been a few months, and I was busy trying to run a new business. The last thing I needed was another man in my life to worry about.

  But Declan did work with Paul at the computer software company, and Paul was a good guy, so who knew? I definitely wasn’t going to be rude. Not rude to Declan, that is. Angela, on the other hand, she’d get an earful from me tomorrow.

  “So, Jana,” Declan said with his slight brogue … That was one characteristic I found absolutely endearing anyway. I hated to sound cliché, but an accent just seemed to make a man more attractive. “Paul said you review books for a living?”

  I took a sip of water, then set down the glass. “I do. I run a book review website.” I was impressed that one of the first things he asked about was what I did for a living. That showed that he was interested in me anyway, right?

  He laughed. “So, in a sense, you get paid to sit around and read romances all day?”

  Scratch that. Declan was as bad as Dick … or was one. I didn’t plan to hang around long enough to find out which.

  I picked up my phone and stared at it as though it had just buzzed. “Oh, it’s Eric. His coach canceled football practice, so I need to run and get him.” I looked between Paul and Angela. “Thanks for dinner, guys. It was great.” I flashed an obligatory smile at Declan but couldn’t force myself to say nice to meet you, since that would be a lie.

  Angela smiled apologetically. “No problem, Jana. See you tomorrow.”

  Paul and Angela moved to get up so I rested my hands on their shoulders. “Don’t mind me. I know my way out the door.”

  ***

  The following day, I bounced Davey on my knee as Angela darted around the kitchen preparing his lunch. “It’s okay, baby,” I cooed to my two-year-old nephew. “I know exactly how you feel. I get cranky when I haven’t eaten either. Maybe if Mommy didn’t spend her time telling the entire county that I was looking for a date, she’d be more prepared.”

  I ducked as Angela threw a towel in my direction, even though I knew it wouldn’t come close. Certainly she wouldn’t take a chance at hitting her son.

  I tickled Davey, trying to get him to pay attention to me instead of wailing at his mother. “We’ll laugh when she has to pick that up, won’t we, baby?”

  Angela slid into the room with a PB&J and a sippy cup of milk. Balancing on one foot, she picked up the towel with her toes and then tossed it into the laundry room.

  After she’d set the plastic plate and cup on the table, she reached for Davey. “I didn’t tell the entire county that you were looking for a date. Paul mentioned one guy he thought you might like, and I agreed. Who knew he’d turn out to be a male chauvinistic pig?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “If you didn’t tell anyone, how come I’ve been asked out three times in three days? I actually looked in the mirror to see
if someone had pinned a sign stating ‘available’ on my back.”

  Angela whooshed out a breath as she collapsed into the chair across from me. “Really? Who?”

  “Don’t laugh.”

  My cousin made a point of locking her lips, so I continued, even though I knew she’d laugh, whether she’d locked her lips or not.

  “Remember Media Man, that guy at the library … the one who taught the blogging course?”

  Angela bit down on her lip, but her cheeks puffed out.

  “Don’t suffocate yourself,” I growled. “It’s not that funny.”

  She spat out just a tiny laugh. “I was laughing at your need to nickname everyone you meet. But, yeah … he’s like twenty-something … and he’s so …”

  “Geeky,” I finished her sentence.

  “Geeky wouldn’t bother me. After all, I married a geek. I was thinking creepy. I’m surprised he’s even interested in dating.”

  I sighed. “Yeah, I didn’t want to say that, but I agree. And apparently he’s very interested. He’s taken to stalking me while I’m there. He’s harmless, I’m sure, but I can’t get a bit of work done.”

  “Who else?” Angela asked. Clearly my news had breathed life into her today. Davey banged his sippy cup on the table, which I took as encouragement to continue.”

  “Eric’s coach,” I whispered.

  “No … Really? I thought he was married.”

  “Apparently he’s been divorced for a couple of years. Shows how much we keep up. I thought he’d been getting crankier on the field.”

  Angela swiped up a glob of jelly with her ever-present burp cloth, then drilled her gaze at me expectantly. “Did you accept?”

  I scrunched up my face, making my nephew giggle in response. “Of course not … Can you imagine if it didn’t work out? How awkward would that be with Eric on the team? He seems like a nice guy and all, a little old for me, but that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. But I couldn’t possibly entertain dating anyone that’s connected to Eric’s school or activities.”

  Angela wiggled back and forth in her seat. “So … you’re gonna start dating again, though? Who’s lucky number three?”

  I rolled my eyes. “You think you know me so well.” I exhaled a deep breath, then laughed. She did know me well. “Well, you know I’m not ready for anything serious, but that guy at the bank … You know, the one you were giggling over when he started …”

  Angela’s eyes widened and she bit down on her lip again. “Oh, yeah! He’s a cute one, and so sweet. He’s always so friendly.”

  I moved my head from side to side, as I weighed the situation. “I haven’t said yes … yet. After all, he can see my bank account. He didn’t ask me out on a date, he just asked if I’d like to get a cup of coffee or something one day, and I said I’d get back with him.”

  “Whoa … look at you go, girlfriend. I like the new Jana. Such confidence.”

  “Not exactly … I’m just.” I struggled for the right word. “Tired.”

  “You’re tired?” Angela screeched. “Try chasing a two-year-old around while you’re pregnant.”

  “Duly noted,” I said. “But you know what I mean. I don’t think I have the energy to start a new relationship. What would you do if Paul pulled what Dick did? Would you want to start over?” I hated even thinking about Paul hurting Angela, but what would she do? She had a baby and one on the way. Sometimes I wondered if she should stash away a little mad money.

  Angela pursed her lips and rolled her head in a gesture I could only describe as, Oh no he better not go there. “If Paul screwed around on me while I’m pregnant and raising a two-year-old, I’d kill ’im, so that would be the end of that discussion since I’d probably end up in prison. Then you’d have to raise your nephew and niece-to-be.”

  Rearing young children was not something I was ready to do over again, so I decided to lighten up the mood. “Hey, I thought you weren’t willing to kill someone.”

  Angela frowned, but at least her skin color returned to her normal pale beige. “Dick didn’t cheat on me. And Eric is nearly grown. Soon enough, you won’t even have to drive him places.”

  I dropped my head into my hands. “Don’t remind me. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like in that big house all by myself when he goes off to college in a few years. But I can’t sell it. Not after I fought to get Dick to pay the mortgage for the next ten years.”

  Angela tapped her hand on the table to get my attention. “Jana, why don’t you get a pet? You’ve wanted a dog for Eric for years. A puppy would be a wonderful companion, not to mention that even a small one would be a great security system. Dick was the only one allergic, right?”

  I rubbed my hand across my mouth. “Yeah, you’re right. That’s exactly what I need. I’m sure I can find a shelter pet that needs a home. So I’d be doing a good deed at the same time, too.”

  Angela nodded her agreement.

  A puppy, though, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that type of commitment. Dogs were a lot of work. A cat, on the other hand … Cats were independent … like I wanted to be. Maybe I could rescue a cat from her old life and give her a new one. We’d start a new life together before I made any dating decisions. That way I wouldn’t end up with a man who was against animals ever again.

  “Angela,” I said as I stood, “I’m going to go adopt myself a new roommate.”

  ***

  For the first time in months, Eric had sprawled his body out on the living room carpet. Typically when he got home from school, if he didn’t have practice, he’d raid the fridge, and then disappear into his bedroom for the rest of the evening. He would come out for dinner, but all too soon, he’d scarf down the food, and then jump up, insisting that he had homework.

  Not tonight, though.

  Tonight, Eric had stationed himself on the rug next to the couch, whispering softly to the new calico I’d adopted today. “Here, baby kitty,” he whispered repeatedly, but our new cat had decided that she would come out when she was ready. Of course, she wasn’t really a kitty; she was about a year old. One of the volunteers at the shelter had said that she was already spayed and that it was harder for an adult cat – even one only a year old – to get adopted. “Everyone wants kittens,” the woman had said with a scowl. And I’d wanted to rescue a cat that nobody wanted. I understood exactly how the calico felt. I wasn’t old, and yet, Dick had wanted to play with a new kitty. I didn’t need a kitten; I wanted a cat with character. And this calico had shown more spunk and personality than any of the cats — or kittens, for that matter. She was feisty and independent. She’d be my role model.

  “Eric,” I said softly, “why don’t you just sit back on the sofa and ignore her for a while? Maybe try the string again? But this time, act as though you aren’t interested in her, just the string. I bet she’ll come out.”

  My son lifted his chin, then smiled. “You mean, play hard-to-get, like all the girls in school?”

  I laughed. “Exactly. You know … girls aren’t the only ones who can play hard-to-get. Sometimes, if a guy just does his thing, without worrying who’s watching … well, often, those are the most popular guys.” I thought about the man at the library, Mr. Forgetful, how he’d been more attractive in my eyes than any guy I’d met. Not because he was attractive physically, but because he hadn’t come on to me in a Yo-why-don’t-we-go-out-sometime kind of way. I concentrated on my son’s eyes. “Is there someone you’re interested in?”

  Embarrassed or irritated with my probing question, Eric dropped his head, shaking it lightly. “No, Mom.”

  Too far, I thought. I knew my son loved me, but he didn’t like to talk about guy stuff with me. Dick had been scarce, though, so I felt like I had to ask. Thank goodness Dick had already had “The Talk” with him when Eric was in junior high. Dick had insisted that telling him in eighth grade wasn’t too early. That if we didn’t explain the “Birds and the Bees,” someone else would.

  Eric positioned himself upright against the back of the
couch as I’d suggested, and in a few seconds, he was tapping on his iPhone, completely forgetting about the string he’d been twisting in his fingers.

  Nodding to the white paw poking out from beneath the couch, I whispered, “Slowly.”

  Eric gently pulled on the string, but then the kitty pulled back her paw. He danced the twine above the crack between the couch and the carpet, and the kitty curled her paw upward, trying to reach it. Eric let her grab just enough to make her feel as though she’d won, and then he’d slowly pull it away.

  Who would have thought that a cat and some string could teach a fifteen-year-old boy how to be patient with a girl? But I had a feeling it just might. And more importantly, I had my son in the same room with me.

  I blinked away tears as I realized how many years Eric had missed having a pet, and how many months I missed having Eric near me. Yeah, I had Angela, but I hadn’t really felt the touch of my family for months. Growing up, I’d sworn to myself that I’d have a lasting relationship, not a broken marriage, where I made my son susceptible to unloving or callous stepparents, as my father had repeatedly done.

  After a few minutes, our new family member ventured out from beneath the couch. Inch by inch, she explored her new home, stopping and smelling everything, wincing every time Eric’s phone chimed.

  Without my asking him, he flicked his phone to silent. He was growing up, and I just needed to sit back and be willing to listen when he was ready to talk. Play hard-to-get, so to speak, but be available as soon as he came looking.

  “Why don’t you show her where her food is again?” I suggested.

  My nearly six-foot-tall son crawled on all fours to the kitchen, looking back at the kitty to see if she was following him.

  She was, and the sight nearly made me cry again.

  Eric pulled out a piece of kibble and set it on the tile. “Here you are, kitty.” He peeked his head around the counter. “What are we gonna call her?”