It took a moment for Matthew to figure out what he was talking about. “That you and she were married? Yeah, she told me that.”
“No, I meant . . . has she ever given you an indication of where her mind's at now?” Cal's cheeks darkened a shade. “I only ask because it seems like you two have been spending a lot of time together.”
Matthew grew uncomfortable. He didn't like gossiping. He also didn't like the look in Cal's eye, which somehow managed to be both curious and accusatory. “She's just been helping me out with the birthday stuff.”
“Really? You two really aren't, you know, involved?”
Matthew's impulse to reassure Cal on this point warred with his desire to tell him to back off. He didn't know why. Becca's life might be none of Cal's business, but her relationship with her ex-husband was certainly not his own. At the same time, a voice in his head whispered,
This guy's not right for her.
But what did he know? “We're just friends.”
“But she obviously likes you.” Cal's shoulders hunched. “You've got that responsible dad vibe going for you.”
“But that's because of Olivia. Becca likes Olivia, and Olivia worships her. Without Olivia, I doubt I would even be on her radar.”
“So you don't think she
likes
likes you?” Cal asked.
What kind of question was that? Matthew wondered if being around tweens was contagious. “No, I don't think she does. Not in the way you mean.”
Saying it aloud caused a piercing sensation in his chest. Because he
liked
Becca, he realized. It wasn't just friendship, or nostalgia. He was falling for her, even while he was living in Nicole's house. The realization made him feel like a weasel.
Cal let out a breath. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something when chaos erupted. The cake table practically levitated as everyone stood at once, letting out a collective gasping cry. Matthew shot to his feet, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.
The focal point of the hubbub was Monica, who was dripping with what appeared to be a liter of soda that had spilled down her front. The liquid stained her snappy red jacket and the lap of her jodhpurs. Her mother was racing toward her with a handful of disposable napkins, but Matthew could tell that the damage was beyond napkin-dabbing. Maybe even beyond dry cleaning. Monica moaned, and then swung toward Olivia, who was standing just behind her, a defiant glare on her face.
After the initial shock, twelve girls and several adults all began speaking at once.
“Olivia did it!”
“I saw it!”
“It was an accident!”
That last exclamation was from Olivia, but her defiant expression made Matthew skeptical. He hurried toward the group.
“The cup just slipped,” she told him.
One of Monica's supporters piped up, “She called Monica a snot. I heard her.”
Monica burst into tears.
“I did not,” Olivia shot back. Then, crossing her arms, she glowered at her nemesis and confessed, “I called her a
show-offy
snot. Which she is.”
Chapter 11
After the ride, the girls had unsaddled the horses and did a quick sponge-and-brush of the horses before dashing off for cake. Becca stayed behind to make sure her equine charges for the day, Crackers, Harvey, and Lulu, got some extra TLC brushing and had their hooves cleaned before putting them in stalls, where they munched on hay as a reward for their party service. All the other hands were dealing with the rest of the Butternut Knoll horses that had been ridden that day, and Allegro was getting a full cool-down bath and grooming from the man the Minters brought along.
Becca went back to the tent, expecting to see twelve girls in the early stages of sugar coma. But by the time she reached them, mayhem had erupted. The group under the tent had split into two vocal factionsâPro-Olivia or Pro-Monica. Unfortunately for Olivia, it didn't take long to sort out the truth and for her support team to evaporate. Mr. Minter's camera had caught Olivia in the corner of one shot, tipping a cup of soda over Monica's shoulder. With malicious intent. It was as if some kind of devil had taken hold of her.
Important eleventh birthday lesson: Lies don't stand up well to instant replay.
After Olivia's guilt was determined, she was forced by Matthew to apologize to Monica and her parents. Matthew divided up the leftover cake among the guests, leaving none for Olivia, and also made her renounce her unopened presents, which seemed overly harsh to Becca. By the time the guests straggled away, Olivia was starting to look a little more sympathetic to everyone but the Minters, who packed up their Pepsi-soaked child and their thoroughbred and motored away in an understandable huff.
On her way out, Deirdre Jentz bid Olivia good-bye. “Happy birthday, Olivia. I had a fun time. I'm sorry about the presents, but you can have my leftover fruit bars.” She handed Olivia a GladWare tub.
“Thanks,” Olivia said, accepting the offering. Even a gift of fruit bars was better than no gift at all.
After her guests were gone, Olivia roller-coastered through the stages of guilt all over again in quick successionâdenial, defiance, and finally resentful acceptance. “I didn't mean to do it,” she explained to Becca and Matthew as they cleared off the table. “It just happened.”
Becca held open the mouth of a garbage bag. “You
just happened
to overturn a drink on Monica?”
The girl's face reddened. “What I meant was, my wanting to do it just overwhelmed me. It was like I was somebody else watching me do it.”
“That excuse gets trotted out in courts a lot,” Becca said. “It's called temporary insanity, and it doesn't work well anymore because most people realized it was baloney.”
“But it's true,” Olivia insisted. “And Monica
was
hateful and show-offy.”
“That was no reason to attack her,” Matthew pointed out.
“You weren't around,” Olivia said. “All during the ride she was making mean comments about Harvey.”
Becca tensed. She'd been riding behind all the girls, trying to keep an eye out for a horse that might decide to bolt or throw someone, while Monica and Olivia had usually been toward the front of the line, with Cal. “What did she say about Harvey?”
“She said he looked dingy, for one thing. And that he wasn't really white, and maybe not even a thoroughbred. And that he was probably going to be made into glue soon.” Olivia squinted at her. “You wouldn't sell Harvey to a glue factory, would you?”
“Of course not. That's crazy.”
“That's what I told her.” Nevertheless, she looked relieved.
“Then why throw a soda on her?” Matthew asked in exasperation. Monica's having insulted a horse clearly wasn't doing it for him, motive-wise.
Olivia's mouth set into a stubborn line. “Because she said something even worse. Something I can't repeat.”
“Worse than insulting Harvey?” That was setting the bar high, in Becca's estimation.
“Well . . . just as bad,” Olivia allowed.
“Wait.” Matthew shook his head. “Try to get some perspective here, O. You just turned eleven, so you're supposed to have a pretty good grip on that old âsticks and stones' saying by now. Remember? The one that says words can't harm you? Instead, the minute somebody uttered something you didn't like, you threw a toddler fit, ruining your own birthday party. You broke the biggest taboo of being a hostâyou attacked a guest. All the little rationalizations you come up with at this point don't matter. You're going to have to offer Monica and her family another formal apology, in person or
very
well written, and I'm going to have to explain this to Nicole, too.”
Olivia was taking the bad news on the chin until Matthew mentioned her mother. “Tell Mom? Why?”
“For one thing, someone else will probably tell her. For another, when she gets back she might wonder why you're forbidden from watching television for two months.”
Two months?
Matthew was putting the
loco
in
in loco parentis
, in Becca's opinion, but Olivia didn't even blink at losing television privileges. “Okay, but
please
don't tell Mom. I couldn't explain it to her. That would be awful.”
“You screwed up,” he pointed out. “It's supposed to be awful.”
“Yeah, but if Mom starts asking questions . . .” Olivia's face collapsed into a frown as another fear tumbled right on top of her last one. “Or if Monica ever tells her mom the truth about why it all happened and
that
got back to Mom, then it wouldn't just be me who was miserable. Lives would be ruined.”
Matthew shook his head. “You're overdramatizing.”
Olivia blurted out, “Monica told everybody that Becca's your girlfriend.”
Becca went still. She didn't look at Matthew, but she could hear his gulp of surprise. “Why would she say that?” he asked.
“I don't know,” Olivia said. “I guess she hates me. I
did
call her a birdbrain once during the trail ride, because I was so mad about what she said about Harvey.” She looked over at Becca. “He's such a great horse. Thank you for letting me ride him.”
“You handled him like a champ.”
A flash of the old brightness lit Olivia's eyes, but then she hung her head, obviously remembering she was in the doghouse and probably wouldn't be allowed to ride again anytime soon. “When we got back for the cake and stuff, somebody asked if I was going to go to Hawaii to be with Mom. And I said, well, duh, probably not, since I have to go to school in Leesburg. And then I heard Monica whisper to Emily that Mom would probably want to take me with her when she finds out that you and Matthew are going out together.”
This time Becca did look at Matthew. “Okay, now
I
want to dump soda on that kid. A whole two-liter jug, if possible.”
His glance let her know that he found her response loyal but unhelpful.
She'd forgotten how catty kids could beâno better than their adult counterparts sometimes. After all, hadn't Pam and Erin been teasing her about her relationship with Matthew for weeks? She should have suspected that others had noticed them together, too. If she understood gossip, what the kids were exchanging was probably the trickle-down version of the more intense, salacious chatter of their parents.
“It's not true, is it?” Olivia asked them.
“No!” she and Matthew answered in unison.
Becca was a little surprised by the vehemence in Matthew's tone. Of course, nothing
had
happened between them, but there had been times when she'd thought that he was a little attracted to her. Not that she wanted him to be.
The confusing thing was, she didn't want him
not
to be. What a mess.
“I didn't think so,” Olivia said. “But if Mom heard people's stupid gossip . . .” She turned her most beseeching look Matthew's way. “I know I have to be punished, but please don't tell her what happened.”
He considered the request. “We can just not go into details.”
Olivia exhaled in relief. In the next moment, however, a new worry appeared to prey on her mind. “I guess you won't want to come to Career Day now,” she said to Becca.
With the flurry of party-related preparations in the past few days, Becca had almost forgotten the promise she'd made to appear at the school's Career Day. The thought of it made her tired, but she'd be damned if she was going to let local chatter keep her from fulfilling a promise. Screw all the penny-ante Leesburg tongue wagging. Their small-town scandal trolling wouldn't make her cower.
Bring it, folks,
she thought. In this, she was no amateur. She'd been in the
National Enquirer.
“Of course I'm going. I've been counting on it.” Her bluster was undermined a bit when she asked, “What day?”
“Wednesday,” Olivia said.
“I'll be there.”
After Matthew and Olivia drove away, she went back to the barn to see Harvey, give him another quick brush, and let him out to pasture. She could also help Cal and his stable guy, Artie, if they still needed a hand. She glanced at her watch. If she hurried, she could get everything finished up here and still make it back to the shop before Pam closed. Then she would need to do some prep and a batch of cakes for tomorrow. All she had to do was get through Sunday. Then she could collapse on Monday, when the shop was closed.
Cal met her at Harvey's stall. “Your people finally clear out?”
She nodded.
“I'm glad there was a little excitement there at the end,” he drawled. “I would hate to think I'd had a hand in a party that was totally unmemorable.”
She pulled a carrot out of her jeans for Harvey, who took it as his due. Spoiled. She slipped his halter on while he was distracted by chewing. “Some memories I could do without.” Like the one of Olivia asking her and Matthew if the gossip was true. That was not something she wanted to mention to Cal, however. “That Monica kid made a crack about Harvey and glue factories to Olivia.”
Cal let out a hoot of surprise. “Good thing she didn't say it to you. Instead of a spilled cold drink, there might have been a homicide.”
“Olivia was pretty hot.” Becca shook her head, half in admiration. “I hope it was worth no presents, possible pariah status at school, and two months of no TV.”
He crossed his arms. “You sure seem wrapped up in their lives. It's like they're your newest project.”
What was he talking about? “I don't do projects.”
“Of course you do. Your shop was your biggest project.”
“That's not a project, it's a business. There's a difference. A person needs to put business first to succeed.”
“I never have,” he said.
“I rest my case.”
“First, you focused on bringing cupcakes to Leesburg like it was your life's mission.” He ticked off her life errors on the fingers of his right hand. “And around that same time, there was meâalthough as a project, our marriage didn't outlast the cupcakes. Then you left me and it was your apartment for a while, and fixing it up. Pam says you've run out of steam on that.”
“Not steam,” Becca said. “Ready cash.”
“And now there's Walt. Good luck fixing him.”
“He's a person, not a project.”
“With you, I'm beginning to think it's the same difference. And your success rate isn't very good with either.”
Her jaw set in consternation. What a load of horseshitâand yet, her mind couldn't help sifting through the evidence and concluding that there was a hair of truth to what he was saying. Not that she was going to grant him the satisfaction of knowing that she was giving his crackpot mental ramblings any credence.
His gaze stayed on her.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” she said. “The shop's turning a profit now.”
“Yeah, but your apartment's still half-finished, your marriage busted up, and now you're involved with a guy who's as good as married.”
Or as good as separated,
she thought, remembering the problem of Nicole and Bob. She'd tried to keep those two out of her mind when dealing with Matthew. It hadn't seemed any of her business to inject her suspicions into Matthew's life.
But apparently letting suspicions run wild was the order of the day. “If you're worried about Matthew, don't be. Why would you think we're involved? Because I helped out with a party?”
“Emotionally involved, I mean. I know you're not having sex.”
She took a step back. “How do you know that?”
“Because I asked him. At the party.”
Heat crept up her neck. “What kind of insanity made you do that?” No wonder Matthew had been so adamant telling Olivia that there was nothing between them.
“I'm worried about you, Bec. And now you have an old loser leeching off you, too.”
Anger bubbled up in her. “Loser! Says the guy who was born with a silver spoon in his mouthâthat he's pawned whenever he's gotten into trouble.”
He flinched a little, but didn't fight back.
“I'm giving poor old Walt a chance not to get flushed down into the gutter of lost people,” she said. “You call that being leeched off of?”
“I just worry it's going to end badly.”
Did the whole world think she should show Walt the door? “Just because
we
didn't stay together doesn't mean I can't manage my life, or that I walk away from responsibilities.”
He looked at her long and hard. “Maybe I'm jealous.”