A Way to Get By Page 17

  Even though I came into tonight pretty confident that this year would be The Year, I still couldn’t get over my shock that this was finally happening. I still couldn’t believe we’d actually gotten away with it.

  She smiled as she picked at the napkin in her lap, almost shy when she asked, “So… How’d you do?”

  I propped an elbow on the table and leaned in to answer. “About one-point-five. You?”

  She crossed her arms and settled back against the cushion. “An even three.”

  My eyes narrowed, shooting her a sham dirty look. I watched her lips curl into a perfect Brenda grin as she added, “Looks like I win.”

  CHAPTER 39

  Surprises

  BRENDA

  Wednesday, January 23

  1980

  I opened the box from my ex-boyfriend, confused as to why he’d have sent anything to me in the first place. Not only that, but he sent it to me at work. Clearly, he was trying to be sneaky about it. Just to further my curiosity, he’d addressed it to Brenda Rinetti, not Brenda Edwards.

  Interesting.

  I ran into him for the first time in years at the club a few days before. It was actually nice to see him but this latest development was entirely too intrigue-inducing for words. It was torture having to wait until Eddie got home but I promised I wouldn’t open the package without him.

  Eddie and I took our promises seriously.

  So, he was right there next to me as I pulled some weird-looking electronic device out of the box. I had no idea what it could be. “What is it? A CB?”

  Eddie grabbed the thing out of my clutches, turning it over in scrutiny. “I think it’s a satellite phone!”

  “A what?” Aside from the numbered buttons, the rectangular brick of machinery looked like no phone I’d ever seen. “But there’s no wire to plug it into the wall.”

  Eddie shook his head in exasperation. “That’s the idea, Bren. You don’t have to plug it in. You can bring it anywhere.” He pulled the instruction booklet out of the box and set it on the table. “Wow. This is so cool! Futuristic. Like James Bond or something.”

  I took the handset back and tested its hefty weight in my hands. “More like Maxwell Smart. It’s the size of your shoe!”

  Eddie was still busy checking out the booklet, flipping the pages in an attempt to gather as much information as possible when he asked, “Why would he give you something like this?”

  Just then, he ceased his inspection of our new toy as our eyes met in shared revelation.

  “Noooo!”

  Our denial was yelled practically in unison before we burst into laughter.

  “He wants a secret way to be able to call me!” I laughed out. “Oh my God. Can you believe the nerve?”

  “Well, you did flirt with him all goddamn night. You evil bitch, you.”

  I was still cracking up as I said, “Oh, his girlfriend was a little snot. She needed to be knocked down a peg. I still can’t believe he was even there! Pretty coincidental timing, no?”

  “How so?”

  “Our plan, stupid.”

  Eddie did a double-take at my words, even though he knew what I was referring to. Two weeks ago, Beau’s name had been brought up during a hypothetical “What If” scenario.

  “Plan? Bren, that wasn’t a plan, that was just… you know… That was just us screwing around, dreaming out loud.”

  “Dreams can come true, Eddie. After all, we found each other, didn’t we?”

  He kissed me for that. “Yes, baby. We sure did.”

  I took another look at the bulky future-phone sitting on my kitchen table and shook my head in disgust. “I can’t believe he thought I’d ever go for it.”

  “You did.”

  “Eleven years ago!” I shot back in defense. “Although, I guess I’m sort of flattered that a rich and powerful guy like that would go to such trouble to try and steal me away from you. I just wish it weren’t him, though. I mean, I’d like to think I could do better than Beau Brummel, for godsakes.”

  Eddie’s brows raised as he busted, “Oh you think so, huh?”

  “You don’t?”

  I had crossed my arms against my chest but my husband untangled them to place a soft kiss on the inside of each wrist. “I think any man who didn’t want you would have to be insane.”

  CHAPTER 40

  She’s Got a Way

  EDDIE

  Thursday, January 10

  1980

  After the millionth time our electric had been turned off, it stopped being cute, and we found ourselves bickering about the overdue PSE&G yet again. The bickering turned into angry sex, which ended up working to our advantage in more ways than one: We’d managed to defuse our argument and conjure up some heat in the process.

  Plus, we got to have sex.

  Lying in bed afterward, our hypothermia momentarily thwarted, Bren turned to me and asked, “Why are we struggling? We’re smart people, good people. Where’s our goddamn payday?”

  “I don’t know, Bren. It’s out there somewhere, though. Someday.”

  She sat up in bed—causing a fresh wave to roll through our mattress—and glared at me. “I’m sick of waiting for ‘someday.’ I’m sick of working so goddamn hard.”

  Oh great. This again.

  “Bren, I’m sorry. This isn’t the life I wanted either. But as long as I have you, I’m happy. Aren’t I enough for you?”

  Her face softened at that. “Of course you are. I just don’t understand why it has to be such a struggle. Every minute of every day.”

  “That’s life, babe. Shit happens, then you die.”

  She scowled at my attempted joke. “Why can’t we just use our assets to make us rich?”

  I practically snorted. “What assets? We rent this place and we both drive shitbox cars. Babe. We have no assets.”

  “We’ve got this.” She swiped her hand in a wide arc over my body and then drew an imaginary circle around her face.

  “Well, unless you plan on selling our looks, I don’t know how they can be considered an asset.”

  “Selling our looks,” she repeated back to me. “Now there’s an idea.”

  I was only half paying attention to her disjointed conversation as I pulled a second blanket over us from the foot of the bed. Dammit it’s cold. “Bren? What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Think about it. We’re young and we’re beautiful. We could land anyone we ever wanted.”

  I wrapped my arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “I did.”

  Bren lost her patience with me, shoving her hands against my chest. “I mean rich people, Eddie. Don’t you think I could find some old rich guy who’d want me?”

  “Anyone would want you.”

  “And don’t you think you could find some sugar mama to shower you with cash?”

  “Sugar mama?” I laughed out.

  “You know what I mean,” she laughed back. “You and I could get divorced, marry rich people, then make out like bandits when we divorce them.”

  I didn’t like where the conversation was going. “Bren… You’re talking crazy, here. You’re making me think you’re seriously considering it.”

  “Well, why not? We’re not going to look this good forever. Why shouldn’t we cash in before we shrivel up and no one wants us.”

  “I’ll always want you.”

  Bren ignored me as she gnawed on her bottom lip. “We could do this.”

  “Do what? Lie to our friends? Our family? We’d never be able to face them. How could you even think of putting them through that?”

  “Through what? We’re the ones that will have to deal with being apart, not them. And it would only be for a short while. I mean, it’s not like we wouldn’t get back together afterward. That’s the whole point! To be as happy as we are now but without any of the financial stress. And just think of all the good things we could do for everyone with all that money!”

  “All what money? Bren, c’mon. We don’t even know any rich peopl
e. I wouldn’t even know where to go to meet one.”

  “The country club, dummy.”

  “Well that’s all fine and good for you; you work there. I’d need a membership.”

  She bit her lip again, the gears in her head turning a mile a minute. “Crap. You’re right.” She sank back down against my chest and I wrapped an arm around her middle as she added, “We couldn’t face our friends and family afterward.”

  I let out with a surprised chuckle. It figured that Bren wasn’t agreeing with me. I decided to humor her, pressing my face to the back of her hair as I said, “Okay, Bren. I’ll play. Where would we go with all our ill-gotten riches?”

  Brenda turned in my arms and rested her cheek against my chest. “Bermuda.”

  Her immediate answer surprised me. Bermuda was where we’d spent our honeymoon. I was glad to find that she thought it was as perfect as I did. “Well you sure are being romantic about it, I’ll grant you that.”

  “We were never happier than on our honeymoon. Yes, we were feeling all lovey dovey because we’d just gotten married, but don’t forget how relaxed we were, knowing we were coming home to thousands of dollars in the bank.”

  “We sure burned through all that cash quick enough.”

  “That’s because we were starting at negative zero. But just think if we had millions socked away.” She slid her hands up my chest as she twisted around to face me, her half-lidded eyes focused on my lips. “We could just spend every minute of our lives having honeymoon sex.”

  “When we weren’t on the run from the feds.”

  That burst her bubble. She released her hold on my pecs to throw her hands in the air. “What feds? There’d be nothing illegal about it. People get married and divorced all the time.”

  “Yeah, but then remarrying each other? Wouldn’t that be a bit too transparent? Maybe it would be considered fraud or something.”

  “Maybe.” She snuggled her face into my neck, her mind mulling over the consequences. “We could lie low for a bunch of years and then get remarried. No one would put two and two together if years have gone by. They’ll just assume we both grew up over that time and finally found our way back to one another.”

  I hated that her logic was starting to make sense. Even still, I lied to myself, told myself I was merely playing along when I said, “There’d have to be some ground rules. I don’t want to hurt anybody.”

  I was only trying to give the impression that I might consider getting on board with this cockamamie scheme, but her mischievous little grin showed that she thought she’d already won me over. “Who’d be hurt?”

  “Well, our friends for one. Our family for another. And don’t forget about the unsuspecting saps that we’d be fleecing out of their cash.”

  She dismissed my concerns with a wave of her hand. “The only friends I’d be concerned about are Tony and Ginny. They’re the only ones that matter.”

  “Agreed. And I don’t want to lie to them.”

  “Well, there’s no way we can tell them!” she huffed. “They’ll think we’re crazy! And Ginny would totally cave under the pressure of keeping something like that secret.”

  “Fine. We’ll only be lying by omission, then. I just don’t want to outright lie right to our best friends’ faces.” I didn’t know how it happened, but I’d gone from considering to planning over the course of thirty seconds.

  “Agreed. But let’s be honest, here. Tony should have made you head chef a long time ago. If he had, we wouldn’t be in this financial situation.”

  I got where she was going but I didn’t necessarily agree. “He pays me a decent salary, Bren.”

  “Decent doesn’t afford us a house of our own. Decent barely affords us this crappy apartment.”

  I mulled that over before addressing my second concern. “Okay, that takes care of our friends. What about our families?”

  “Pfft. What family? You’re an only child, and my brother and parents are practically dead to me.”

  “But mine aren’t.”

  “They live in Miami, for godsakes, and you hardly talk to them. They may as well be.”

  She had a point. “Okay, so I guess that just leaves our marks.”

  Bren giggled against my chest. “Oh my God. I love that you’re using old-timey gangster talk.” She was still chuckling as she repeated, “Marks. Priceless.”

  “Well, what would you call them?”

  She thought for a minute before offering, “I’d call them our second chance.” I pulled her in for a kiss, and her lips met mine in a leisurely smooch before she pulled away. “And anyway, I’d make sure my ‘mark’ was a bit of a jerk. It would make a quick divorce seem logical. Hell, people would wonder why I didn’t do it sooner!”

  “They’d wonder why you did it in the first place.”

  “I don’t see the problem with being honest about that part. I couldn’t care less if people thought I was only marrying for money.”

  “You wouldn’t be going to bed with his money.”

  “Yes, I would.”

  I physically recoiled at the thought of another man’s hands all over my wife. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. “Who would the lucky guy be, Bren? Brummel?”

  “Nooo,” she answered automatically. “You hate that guy.”

  As much as I appreciated her allegiance, I felt she wasn’t really thinking my suggestion through. “But you already have the in. He’s got more money than God and he’s been after you for years. Plus, he fits your criteria of being a jerk.” I couldn’t hide the derision from my voice. Back in the day, the guy had been a thorn in my side for too damn long.

  “You’re only bringing up his name because he’s the only rich guy we know. I don’t even think he lives here anymore.”

  “If he heard you were single? I think he’d come back to town the first chance he got.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “I don’t think so. You wouldn’t be able to stand by and watch that.”

  “I’d never be able to just stand by while you had sex with anyone.”

  “Sure you would. It’s just my body. My heart would still be with you.”

  I was exhausted from our conversation. Playtime was over. I slid us both down into the pillows, saying through a yawn, “The way your brain works sometimes. I swear, Bren.”

  “Oh, please. You love my brain. Along with the rest of me,” she added on a snicker.

  “That I do.”

  She curled up against my side, the two of us sharing our body heat. “You and me, Eddie. I’ll love you forever. Remember?”

  My eyes were closed but my mouth was smiling. “Yes, Bren. You and me. Forever.”

  EPILOGUE

  EDDIE

  Saturday, August 10

  1985

  “Eddie… hellooo… I asked you if you wanted another drink.”

  Bren giggles as she flicks her finger at my bare leg. I grab her hand and kiss her knuckles. “Sure, babe. I’ll have another.”

  The waiter appears, so I hold up two fingers with my free hand. He gathers our empties and plods away across the white-hot sand in his white-hot suit. I feel bad for the poor bastard, having to wear a full suit in this blazing sun. Guess it goes with the territory. Hell, when I have servants of my own someday, I’m going to let them wear whatever the hell they want. Cutoff jean shorts and a concert T-shirt? Rock on, brother.

  “What are you smiling about over there?” Bren asks, reclaiming her hand to grab for the suntan oil.

  “I’m just thinking about what kind of uniforms our servants should wear.”

  “Our servants?” she asks incredulously, lowering a brow at me.

  That has me chuckling. “Sure. Why not think about that kind of stuff?”

  I mean, I really don’t see the harm in dreaming out loud. Considering the fact that I’m currently living out the biggest dream I ever had, lying on this perfect beach with the love of my life… Who says dreams can’t come true?

  Bren shakes her head and settles back into her chaise.
“Our servants,” she repeats again, snickering.

  Clasping my hands behind my head, I lean back and tip my face to the sun. I get why Bren isn’t playing along. We’ve spent so much time being poor that it’s probably hard for her to imagine a life where we’re not. But hell. We’ve got some money in the bank now. Things are looking up.

  “Along with an obscenely humongous house full of servants, I’m going to buy you a new engagement ring. That one’s too damn small. It’s embarrassing.”

  Bren turns her head toward me, squinting an eye in my direction. “Babe? I like this ring. It’s the one you gave me when you asked me to marry you. Who cares about the size? It’s the thought behind it that I love. And you. I kind of love you, too.”

  I smile in spite of myself as she adds, “I’ll take the obscenely humongous house, though.”

  That has me sputtering out a laugh.

  We’ve been here two weeks already. It’s the place we picked to go for our honeymoon after our first marriage, so it was the obvious destination for our second. The original plan was that we’d wait a few years before getting remarried, but really, what would be the point? Once we got down here, we got so caught up in each other that we decided to start our new life as soon as possible. We were re-married on the beach last night. It was a gorgeous ceremony. Just the two of us, the way it’s always been. The way I see it, we’ve waited long enough. The past five years apart felt like a lifetime.

  This should have been our tenth anniversary. We’re still counting it as such. We decided to put the years of separation out of our minds and just celebrate the fact that regardless of our divorce and subsequent marriages to other people, we never stopped loving one another.

  We’re pretty committed to spending every minute together to make up for it. It’s not like we don’t have the time to do so; neither one of us will ever have to work again. Four-point-five million may not put us on the Forbes Richest People list, but it’s a hell of a lot of money for two people like Bren and me.

  Rather than go home so soon and open ourselves up to the endless scrutiny, we decided to spend a few months down here until we can come up with a new game plan. The most recent suggestion has been to move to New York City and open a restaurant of my own. Even though the city is only minutes away from Hackensack, it may as well be another world. We’d be far enough away to avoid running into Beau and Maxine, yet close enough to see Tony, Ginny, and the baby pretty regularly. I’m Jennifer’s Godfather after all.