Desperate Measures(32)

 

“Aimee, I’m tired of playing games with you. I want to know what you’ve been up to, and I want to know where my golf clubs are. I’m going golfing tomorrow, and I need them.”

 

This was Jack’s newest thing. For some reason, he’d decided that he had a right to know what she was doing at every moment of the day, just like he’d done when they were married.

 

“Jack, we’re not married anymore. Well, technically we are, but we’re separated and almost technically divorced. You have a new girlfriend or fiancée, or whatever she is, to harass and boss around. Just stay out of my business. And forget the clubs. They’re gone.”

 

She had to hold the phone away from her ear because of the screaming coming from Jack’s end. She looked for the red button and pressed it, cutting off his call.

 

“I’ve had a lifetime of that crap, Jack, and I don’t have to put up with it anymore,” she said out loud, looking at her boxes. She smiled at her newfound confidence and stuck the phone in her back pocket, heading back to the kitchen. She had a batch of cookies in the oven, a new recipe she was trying. She’d been working on it off and on for days, trying to get just the right combination of flavorings and ingredients. She was pretty sure this one was going to be perfect.

 

The front doorbell rang. Aimee grabbed the cookies out of the oven and set the sheet on the cooling racks before rushing down the hall and looking through the peephole. She was always worried it was going to be Jack, there to cause trouble again. She felt reasonably safe during working hours, though. He rarely left his office between nine in the morning and six at night, especially with his soon-to-be wife Tiffany there. The girl wasn’t that dumb. She knew he was a cheater, so she kept a close eye on him.

 

Betty was standing out on the front porch.

 

“Betty! Come in!” Aimee threw the door open wide.

 

“Hello, sweetie, how are you?”

 

Aimee smiled and leaned in, giving Betty a kiss on the cheek. Betty smelled of lotion and powder, just like an older lady should, in Aimee’s opinion. “I have your cakes all ready. I even found a cute little platter for them at the dollar store. Come see.”

 

Betty followed her into the kitchen where Aimee led her over to the granite-covered island. Among the baking pans, potholders, and other evidence of recent baking, was a pink platter with a two-inch high rim, filled with gorgeous cakes and tarts, just as Betty had ordered for her mahjongg club.

 

Betty clasped her hands together in glee, her shiny bone-colored purse swinging on her forearm. “Oh, those are just lovely. Absolutely perfect. Madge is going to be furious.” She looked at Aimee with bright eyes and a devious grin.

 

Aimee smiled back. “I’m glad you’re glad. But are you sure you want to get Madge so upset?”

 

“Oh, yes. Definitely.”

 

“Okay, then. Let me get them wrapped up for you, and then I’ll help you get them out to your car.”

 

Aimee went about wrapping up the cakes and finished just as a voice came from the doorway.

 

“Who’s she? The cleaning lady? Since when can you afford one of those?”

 

Aimee turned with a gasp, her joy disappearing like a puff of smoke. “Jack! What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

 

“Cleaning lady? Did he say cleaning lady?” asked Betty, a frown spreading across her face.

 

Aimee put her hand on Betty’s arm. “Ignore him. He’s not a very nice person.”

 

“I asked a question, and I expect an answer,” he insisted. “Who is this person and why is she in my house?”

 

Aimee sighed, stepping in-between Jack and Betty. “This is a friend of mine, Jack. And she was just leaving.” Aimee turned to Betty and said in a lowered voice. “Let me carry this out for you. Come on.”

 

Before Aimee grabbed the platter, she quickly picked up her spatula and used it to put a few of the still warm cookies in with the pastries, carefully readjusting the plastic wrap once they were settled in nicely. She kept her eyes down and moved with the platter in her hand to leave the kitchen, praying Jack wouldn’t cause any more trouble. She could feel her face burning in humiliation as it was. She was so embarrassed that Betty had seen him and heard how nasty he could be. And this was Jack being nice, actually. Please, please don’t let him get crazy in front of Betty.

 

Aimee left the kitchen, Jack stepping to the side to let her pass. She had expected Betty to follow, but Betty had other ideas.

 

“Young man ... didn’t your mother ever teach you any manners?”