Mrs B’s eyes widen.
“I was fresh out of beauty school. I knew about perms, and short back and sides for the military, but Bart was one of my first male cuts. He fell asleep at the washbowl, and I wondered about this powerful legal expert, helpless as a baby beneath my touch.”
No amount of pain can destroy the wonder of our first moments together.
“Bart’s appearance on the network was such a hit, they called him in as a regular to comment on criminal rulings. Off camera, he smouldered more each time I worked on him. One night, he grabbed my hand and insisted I go out with him after my shift, at half past nine at night.”
Mrs raises her eyebrows.
“It was a whirlwind. I was just twenty when we married. As Bart’s star rose, I made everything work behind the scenes. I found our first apartment, then moved us to our larger home on a big block of land – for privacy – and renovated it. Phoebe arrived, and I fell in love again, with my baby. Motherhood consumed me, and Bart extended his work travels. I closed my ears to rumors and kept myself busy.”
“But the rumors were true?”
I nod.
“Well that’s not your fault. And that Violetta ...”
“It’s okay, Mrs B. Brighton Court is my fresh start. Come and see what I made you.”
Mrs B falls on the orange and lime lampshades as if they’re babies. She practically coos.
“I adore them. You clever, clever person, Lucy! Bart doesn’t know what he let go.”
“You’re right, Mrs B.”
“Well, personally, I’m glad he let you go. I can’t wait to try these in my apartment.”
“Thanks for your visit, Mrs B.”
“Thanks for the chat.”
Two days later I get a call from Chad. My finger hesitates over the button, but I end up taking it.
“Thanks for nothing, Chad,” I say.
“Not my idea,” he says.
“But you went along with it. I thought we were friends. I wanted to ask about your family, but you just threw me into the snake pit.”
“I’m sorry, Lucy. I just want you to know we pulled the banner.”
“After two days, huh? Should I be grateful? Why did you pull it? Worried I’ll sue?”
“We got hundreds of complaints and lost a big advertiser. Violetta’s lost so many viewers she’s being retrenched.”
“Sorry to hear it, and not sorry. Violetta was brilliant. She was wasted on that show. I guess you’re safe, are you? I know you have to feed your family. But don’t call me again.”
Chad sighs as if he’s sorry. It’s not enough.
Are you okay?texts Dirk.
I am okay, I text back.
Come and see me, he texts.
Yes, I text back, but I am flat out unpacking for strangers and tired at the end of each day. If he thinks I’m a drug addict, I don’t really want to know.
My phone rings as I’m taking down the trash, and I grab it and stab at the green button, then put it on speaker so I have a spare hand.
