Read Online Nobody's Fool by Barbara Meyers - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Barbara Meyers
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that happened.
But designing for Melina might help achieve the same goal even faster, assuming the line was successful. Melina might even back a line of wedding gowns. Especially if she ever decided to settle down with one of the men she was linked to romantically. Her current beau was Ricardo Estevez, the Latino hip-hop artist known as RickyE.
But Jolie would be required to relocate to Atlanta, at least temporarily. Jolie hadn’t wanted to commit to that but Melina had made it non-negotiable. She needed to be hands-on throughout the process.
“If Court send, I look at your ideas. I must go now.”
“Thanks, Melina. Goodbye.”
On Monday afternoon, Jolie parked her rental in front of 701 Litchfield Lane and stared at the charming ranch-style home painted forest green with white trim. A red tricycle and an orange-and-blue wagon were parked to one side of the garage door. A flagstone path wound its way to the generous front stoop, shaded by a white awning.
Jolie stepped out of the car and wiped the palms of her hands on her skirt. Ridiculous, she told herself. What did she have to be nervous about? Was she afraid Sarah would reject her?
Yes , was the resounding answer. Jolie had spent so long avoiding taking chances, afraid to appear the fool, that fear had become a part of who she was. For months she’d been asking herself when she was going to grow up and stop seeking approval from the rest of the world.
The easy thing right now would be to get in the car and drive back to her parents’ house without talking to Sarah, without apologizing to her ten years too late. If Sarah slammed the door in her face, it would be no less than she deserved.
Clean the dirt out of your closet! Caroline Gordon’s command echoed in Jolie’s head. Baggage you’re not even aware you carry can weigh you down. Examine your past, make amends where need be. Only then can you truly move forward with your life.
Jolie gripped the bouquet of flowers she held tight, marched up the path and knocked. A fall wreath hung just below the half-moon window.
The door opened and Sarah appeared with a toddler on her hip and another hanging onto the hem of her skirt. She didn’t glare and Jolie hoped that was a good sign. But she didn’t look particularly welcoming, either.
Jolie forced a smile to her lips. “Hi, Sarah. I was wondering if we could talk for a minute.”
The child tugged on Sarah’s skirt and murmured something Jolie couldn’t hear. The other one sucked on a bottle and stared at Jolie with Chip’s bright blue eyes.
“If it’s not too inconvenient,” Jolie added. “I know you’re busy—”
Sarah shifted the child to her other hip. “No, it’s okay. It’s almost naptime anyway. Come on in.”
The Sobeleski’s living room was filled with worn but comfortable-looking furniture and the usual detritus created by two young children. A half-finished puzzle covered the coffee table and building blocks and small vehicles were scattered across the floor.
The older child set up a whine as he trailed behind his mother, still clutching the material of her skirt in one small fist.
Sarah spoke to him in soothing tones.
“Have a seat.” Sarah nodded towards a beige sectional sofa. Jolie sank into the sofa cushions, feeling a sinking in her heart as well. This could have been me , she thought with twin reactions of horror and regret.
What if she’d married Chip and stayed in Oak Ridge, settled down and created a family? She’d be married to her high school sweetheart—God, what a cliché! She’d have missed out on the glamour and excitement of New York, the trips to LA, the opportunities she now had with Melina. She’d be stuck.
She watched as Sarah tucked the little boy up next to her in the padded rocker and cuddled the baby. She glanced up. Jolie felt foolish to be caught staring.
“These are for you,” she said belatedly, holding out the bouquet of flowers. Sarah nodded in acknowledgment, and Jolie laid them on the
But designing for Melina might help achieve the same goal even faster, assuming the line was successful. Melina might even back a line of wedding gowns. Especially if she ever decided to settle down with one of the men she was linked to romantically. Her current beau was Ricardo Estevez, the Latino hip-hop artist known as RickyE.
But Jolie would be required to relocate to Atlanta, at least temporarily. Jolie hadn’t wanted to commit to that but Melina had made it non-negotiable. She needed to be hands-on throughout the process.
“If Court send, I look at your ideas. I must go now.”
“Thanks, Melina. Goodbye.”
On Monday afternoon, Jolie parked her rental in front of 701 Litchfield Lane and stared at the charming ranch-style home painted forest green with white trim. A red tricycle and an orange-and-blue wagon were parked to one side of the garage door. A flagstone path wound its way to the generous front stoop, shaded by a white awning.
Jolie stepped out of the car and wiped the palms of her hands on her skirt. Ridiculous, she told herself. What did she have to be nervous about? Was she afraid Sarah would reject her?
Yes , was the resounding answer. Jolie had spent so long avoiding taking chances, afraid to appear the fool, that fear had become a part of who she was. For months she’d been asking herself when she was going to grow up and stop seeking approval from the rest of the world.
The easy thing right now would be to get in the car and drive back to her parents’ house without talking to Sarah, without apologizing to her ten years too late. If Sarah slammed the door in her face, it would be no less than she deserved.
Clean the dirt out of your closet! Caroline Gordon’s command echoed in Jolie’s head. Baggage you’re not even aware you carry can weigh you down. Examine your past, make amends where need be. Only then can you truly move forward with your life.
Jolie gripped the bouquet of flowers she held tight, marched up the path and knocked. A fall wreath hung just below the half-moon window.
The door opened and Sarah appeared with a toddler on her hip and another hanging onto the hem of her skirt. She didn’t glare and Jolie hoped that was a good sign. But she didn’t look particularly welcoming, either.
Jolie forced a smile to her lips. “Hi, Sarah. I was wondering if we could talk for a minute.”
The child tugged on Sarah’s skirt and murmured something Jolie couldn’t hear. The other one sucked on a bottle and stared at Jolie with Chip’s bright blue eyes.
“If it’s not too inconvenient,” Jolie added. “I know you’re busy—”
Sarah shifted the child to her other hip. “No, it’s okay. It’s almost naptime anyway. Come on in.”
The Sobeleski’s living room was filled with worn but comfortable-looking furniture and the usual detritus created by two young children. A half-finished puzzle covered the coffee table and building blocks and small vehicles were scattered across the floor.
The older child set up a whine as he trailed behind his mother, still clutching the material of her skirt in one small fist.
Sarah spoke to him in soothing tones.
“Have a seat.” Sarah nodded towards a beige sectional sofa. Jolie sank into the sofa cushions, feeling a sinking in her heart as well. This could have been me , she thought with twin reactions of horror and regret.
What if she’d married Chip and stayed in Oak Ridge, settled down and created a family? She’d be married to her high school sweetheart—God, what a cliché! She’d have missed out on the glamour and excitement of New York, the trips to LA, the opportunities she now had with Melina. She’d be stuck.
She watched as Sarah tucked the little boy up next to her in the padded rocker and cuddled the baby. She glanced up. Jolie felt foolish to be caught staring.
“These are for you,” she said belatedly, holding out the bouquet of flowers. Sarah nodded in acknowledgment, and Jolie laid them on the
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