Your Perfect Life: A Novel Page 22

  My, how life had changed. I had never thrown a party for anyone else, unless you counted the time I kidnapped Rachel for a birthday trip to Las Vegas when we were still in college. And even that wasn’t really selfless; I had been begging her to go for weeks but she had insisted she had to study. So I took her against her will and plied her with kamikaze shots until she agreed it had been a great idea. Annoyed as I had been when I originally took over the planning for John’s party, I had to admit it really did feel good to do something special for someone else. I watch Sophie, holding my breath.

  Sophie opens her mouth and sighs loudly. “Fine! I’ll just go put on one of your old dresses with shoulder pads or something to make you guys happy. Who cares what I want anyway, right?” She huffs out of the room.

  “No one’s asking you to wear shoulder pads,” I call after her. “I’d be happy with anything that didn’t look like something a hooker would wear.” I look at John and roll my eyes, feeling a million miles away from the woman who wore the same thing less than a year ago.

  “Or Aunt Casey,” she snaps, her door slamming behind her.

  “It’s just a phase, right?” John asks.

  “God willing,” I say, trying not to think about how much Sophie’s comment hurts. I push my head down into his chest to avoid the kiss I know he’s looking for and feel a renewed sense of urgency to get Rachel back into this body. I won’t be able to hold John off for much longer.

  He leans down and whispers in my ear. “You know what I want for my birthday?”

  “A new putter?” I ask hopefully before he whispers, his breath hot on my ear, what he’d really like. My cheeks flush. I remember the ripped panties from the night I took what’s-his-name home. Was John wild like that too? I didn’t want to find out.

  “Are you blushing?” he asks, his eyes full of amusement.

  “No,” I stammer and pull away, backing into the wall.

  “So, what do you think?” He reaches out for me again. “Can I get that for my birthday?”

  Not if I want Rachel to speak to me ever again. Or if I ever want to be able to look you in the eye again. “Sure,” I say and force a smile.

  • • •

  “You said what?” Rachel sounds ready to jump through the phone when I call her a few minutes later, hoping the water from John’s shower drowns out our conversation.

  “What was I supposed to say?” I squeak, still shaken up over the visuals of what he lodged in my mind. “Seriously, Rachel, we’ve got to get this figured out.”

  “I’m on it,” she says cryptically.

  I hear the water turn off. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Wait, Case. Two things real quick. Your mom has emailed you several times this week, the last time threatening to fly out if you don’t respond. I’m sorry, I missed her monthly call. I was going to email her back, but I thought it might be better if you did.”

  Rachel had always been slightly intimidated by Natalie Lee and I didn’t blame her. My mother was tough and no-nonsense, a stark contrast to Rachel’s mom, who was the Martha Stewart of her time, with homemade cookies waiting for us each day when we burst through the door from school. Their home had been just like her, warm and inviting, and I spent as much time there as I could. Rachel’s dad often joked that he had two daughters. “Okay, I’ll email her,” I said. Not a lot of things got past my mother, and I couldn’t afford to have her snooping around. “What’s the other thing?”

  “Promise you won’t be mad.”

  “What?”

  “Promise first.”

  “Fine, I promise. Tell me, Rachel, you’re scaring me.”

  “I’m bringing Charlie.”

  Silence. “Rachel. Why?” I finally ask, my stomach dropping to my feet. The thought of him, dancing and flirting with Rachel while I played dutiful wife to John, made my heart hurt. To have him a few feet away would be torturous.

  “Is there any way you can uninvite him?” I ask.

  “It’s going to be fine,” she answers ambiguously.

  “I’m not sure how that could possibly be the case,” I say while trying to wipe the visual of them doing the Macarena out of my head.

  “Please, Case. Just trust me, okay?” she pleads quietly and I think about everything she’s given up for me since we switched.

  “Okay,” I concede.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine, I trust you,” I say quickly.

  “No, I’m not just sorry for inviting Charlie. I’m sorry for everything.” She says this softly and I imagine her twirling her hair tightly onto her finger like she used to do whenever I was angry with her in high school.

  “I’ll live. Just don’t make out in front of me. Then you may have a very awkward girl fight on your hands,” I say.

  “Got it,” she says, relieved.

  John walks into the room wearing a robe and I silently thank God. The other day, I had to sprint from the bedroom as he began to pull his towel off. “I really gotta go,” I say before hanging up.

  “Who was that?” John asks. “And who’s girl fighting?”

  “It was Casey. She was just telling me some celebrity gossip,” I say as I slide off the bed and head to the office to check my email.

  “Shouldn’t you start getting ready?” he calls out.

  I run my hand over the glossy blow-dry I got this morning. “I just need to do my makeup and get dressed.” I glance at the clock. I’ve got forty-five minutes, which is all the time in the world now, but only a few weeks ago, it would’ve barely been enough time to get my makeup done. “Don’t worry, I’ll be beautiful,” I say playfully before shutting the door to the office and firing the computer to life.

  I log into my GossipTV account and feel like a stranger as I glance at the hundreds of emails that have come in since Rachel’s been living my life. We had agreed that it would be better if she dealt with all of them, most of them being work related anyway, her BlackBerry vibrating day and night with scripts, rewrites, and updates on the latest celebrity bad behavior. I peruse the in-box for my mom’s email address, locating the guilt-inducing emails she sent. I quickly fire off a short response saying I’ve been insanely busy and will call her as soon as I come up for air. I’m about to shut down the computer when I see an email from Ava Greenwood, one of the network executives. The subject line says Welcome to New York. I click on it.

  Dear Casey,

  We are thrilled that you’ve decided to accept the New York job with the network! I have to admit, you had us worried there for a little bit, but I’m glad you finally came to your senses. We’d hate to lose you because you were unwilling to relocate. We’ll be in touch with all the details about your new show, but we’re thinking Ellen-meets-Oprah with a little GossipTV thrown in.

  All the best,

  Ava

  A new show? New York? How could Rachel keep this from me? This is my life, not hers, even if she is in my body! I read back through the chain of emails between them, Rachel clearly uncomfortable with the idea of moving and Ava reminding her of my contract and what would happen if I didn’t take the job in New York. They’d have the right to terminate my contract and would have no problem doing just that. Basically they were blackmailing her into taking the job. So many questions swirl in my head that I grasp the edge of the desk to steady myself. How can she leave her kids? Is Charlie going? Why didn’t she confide in me?

  I click on an email from Destiny about looking online at apartments in Brooklyn. And one from Charlie saying that Ava called a meeting with him and that he thought they were going to ask him to executive produce the show. Tears spring to my eyes as I realize that Rachel was willing to give up seeing her family so that I didn’t lose the one thing I had always loved most, my career. It was clear in the emails that she had been trying to buy as much time as possible before finally getting backed into a corner. I can’t let her do this. I know if I call her, she’ll tell me that we’ll figure things out before she has to leave for
New York, that I should just let her take the job for now. But now that I’ve fallen in love with all the people who mean the most to her, I know that she can’t spend another day without them.

  I know what I need to do.

  I push send a few minutes later and hear a soft knock on the door. “Mom?” I hear Sophie’s voice. “Is this okay?”

  I open the door and gasp. “Sophie, you look beautiful.” Her lips form a shy smile as I take in the perfect black silk dress she’s wearing, her unruly hair pulled into a tight knot, the small pearl earrings Rachel and John had given her for her birthday last year dangling from her ears.

  “Audrey helped pick it out.” She smiles again and I wonder if she’s been acting out because she’s craving attention from us, because Audrey’s been getting so much. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry about earlier,” she says, hugging me.

  “It’s okay, baby,” I answer, more sure than ever that I made the right decision a few minutes ago.

  “Are you crying?” she asks, noticing my tear-stained face.

  “I’m just happy,” I confess. And for the first time in a long while, I truly am. I wipe my face with the sleeve of my sweater. “Do you mind getting Charlotte dressed so I can get ready? Pick her out something pretty to wear? Since Audrey helped you, maybe you can give your little sister some assistance in the fashion department too.”

  She eyes me warily—I doubt she’s seen Rachel cry more than once or twice in her lifetime. “I’m fine, honey, really,” I reassure her.

  “Okay. I’ll get her ready,” she says as she heads down the stairs.

  My mind is rushing over what I just did. By turning down the New York job, my career as I know it is basically over. To reject an opportunity like that, well, let’s just say it’s unheard of, no matter the reason. It’s okay, I tell myself as I apply moisturizer to my face. I’ll land on my feet. I always do. I hope Destiny will forgive me. I’ll take her with me as soon as I land another job. And Charlie. Will he go to New York without me? And will he still want me if I’m not on a top-rated show? I guess I’m going to find out.

  I emerge from the bathroom and examine myself in the full-length mirror. Wearing the sequined black dress that Rachel had picked out months ago for this occasion, I have to admit that she knows her body well. It hugs all the right curves and shows just enough cleavage to make it interesting. I run a brush through my hair one last time, spray Rachel’s Trish McEvoy perfume generously, and hope I’ll make her proud tonight.

  When we arrive at the venue, my heart beats wildly and I’m hoping I’ll pull off the surprise. The valet opens my door and I gingerly step out before leaning in to unclasp Charlotte from her car seat. “Come here, baby girl,” I coo. I place her firmly on my hip and John materializes at my side and puts his arm around me possessively. “Ready?” I say.

  “You bet,” he says, having no idea that one hundred of his slightly buzzed friends are getting ready to scream surprise. Destiny texted me ten minutes ago and gave the all-clear. Everything’s ready to go here. Maybe we should have waited on the open bar?! LOL See you in ten. xo

  We ride up the elevator in silence, the girls looking at each other nervously. The door dings and opens to two large doors. Beyond them, I can hear a few shhh’s and smile. I look at John—he has no clue. “Is this the dining room?” he asks, confused.

  “It is,” I say. “Go on.” I nudge him.

  The greeting is almost deafening and I put my hands over Charlotte’s ears as John’s friends and family yell “Surprise!” and break into an uneven chorus of “Happy Birthday.” His face turns from confusion, to shock, to joy in moments. He grabs me and plants a sloppy kiss on my lips and I pull away quickly, laughing. I search for Rachel’s face in the crowd and am relieved to see her laughing too. My mouth goes dry when I spy Charlie next to her, clapping and cheering for a man he’s never met. But knowing Charlie, the fact that John is important to me is good enough for him.

  John is engulfed with well-wishers when I hand Charlotte off to his mother and father, who flew in from Arizona and thankfully offered to provide child care for the night. John breaks free a few moments later and grabs my hand. “How long have you been planning this?”

  “A long time,” I tease. “You like?”

  “Yes. More than you know.”

  “Happy birthday, Dad,” Audrey and Sophie say in unison as they wrap their arms around John.

  “I love you guys. I don’t need anything else for my birthday. This is the best gift ever,” he says and I hear the tears in his throat. He looks at me, a softness in his eyes I haven’t seen in years, and it reminds me of how John looked at Rachel on their wedding day. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I say as someone brings over a shot glass filled with what looks like tequila. John downs it in one gulp. The sight of the shot glass reminds me of the high school reunion and I look around at the waitstaff, dressed identically in white shirts and black pants, searching for Brian. My heart skips a beat when I think I spot him, but when I blink, he’s gone again. How silly of me to think he’d show up here.

  “Hey.” I hear my own voice and turn around to find Rachel and Charlie.

  “Hey,” I say casually as I grab a champagne flute off a passing tray and hope my knees don’t buckle underneath me in front of the only man I’ve ever loved.

  CHAPTER 34

  * * *

  rachel

  Casey takes a long sip of her champagne, her hand shaking slightly as she presses the flute to her lips. “Hey,” she says lightly, but doesn’t take her eyes off Charlie. “It’s Charlie, right?” She extends her hand.

  “Thanks so much for having me,” he says sincerely as he shakes it, the sleeve of his jacket rising up to reveal a watch he told me was given to him by his father, one he rarely removes. I smile at the many special things I’ve learned about Charlie since I’ve known him, only reinforcing my feeling that he and Casey should give it another shot. “Great party,” he says, looking around the room, and I follow his gaze.

  The large ballroom, not unlike the one where we had our high school reunion, is packed with familiar faces: John’s tennis partner, Jeremy, and his wife, Kelly, our neighbors who had become close friends; Sophie’s longtime best friend’s mom and her husband, whom we befriended after dozens of play dates; John’s colleague Martin and his partner, George, whose quick wit and funny stories make them frequent dinner guests at our house. So many people I want to talk to, but can’t.

  “We’re so glad you could make it,” Casey answers and narrows her eyes at me slightly, signaling she’s still not completely on board with Charlie being here. Before I can offer her an apologetic smile, the catering manager comes over and stage-whispers something. “Excuse me,” she says, giving Charlie one more backward glance as she’s led away to deal.

  “How many years have you guys been friends? You said since middle school, right?” he asks.

  “Right, it’s been a long time,” I say carefully, the past two decades flashing before me, mental snapshots of our first sleepover, secret late-night phone conversations, huddled together next to my locker while I whispered the details of my first makeout session with John.

  John. I find him in the crowd just as he reaches for Casey, who’s walking by. She pauses briefly as he leans in and says something that makes her smile. She laughs and gives his hand one last squeeze, her fingertips lingering on the end of his until she finally releases his hand and heads in the direction of the bar. John takes a long swig of his whiskey and watches her walk away, a smile on his face I haven’t seen in a long time.

  What I wouldn’t do to have that smile shine on the real me again.

  “They seem like a nice couple,” Charlie says and I realize he’s also been watching them.

  “They are,” I say simply as I grab a shrimp off a passing platter.

  “They must have a secret.” The sides of Charlie’s mouth turn down and he takes a drink of his scotch on the rocks, his ey
es never leaving mine.

  “What do you mean by secret?” I ask, startled.

  Does he know?

  He smiles. “I mean their secret to a successful marriage. Just look at them, after all these years, still gazing into each other’s eyes like that. It’s like they’re just falling in love for the first time.”

  Falling in love for the first time. Charlie’s words linger as I fix my gaze on John, now talking to Jeremy and Kelly. He’s making a backhand motion with his arm, obviously replaying a moment from a recent tennis match. I know Casey’s not falling in love; she would never do that to me. Plus, he’s like a brother to her. And of course she’s got to play the part of loving wife, especially tonight. But what about John? Could he be falling in love with her? I know he thinks she’s me, but she’s not. She’s the antithesis of me in so many ways—she’s laid-back, she’s open-minded, she’s even sexier than I am, even in my body. She carries herself with so much more confidence than I ever have. Could John be attracted to that? What happens if—when—we do switch back? What if he misses those things about her?

  “Casey? You’re a million miles away. What are you thinking about?”

  “What you said about their secret to a happy marriage.” I think about what Casey’s brought to the table since she became me. “You know, I think the secret is trust. No matter what, they know they can always count on each other.” Watching John now, I realize I’d stopped trusting him, stopped believing he had my back, that we were a team.

  Charlie looks at me intently. “You know them well.”

  “Better than you think.” I smile.

  “Now come with me, there’s a couple of really important people you need to meet,” I say as I lead him over to Sophie and Audrey, who squeal with delight when they see me. “You girls look gorgeous,” I say, holding back the tears as Sophie twirls for me. “Your mom is so proud,” I whisper.

  “Who’s this, Aunt Casey?” Audrey says playfully as she points at Charlie.