Lost by Joy Fielding Read Free Book Online Page A

wooden hangers in her closet for something that could conceivably pass for stylish and sexy. “There isn’t a damn thing.” Julia would be able to put together something, she thought.
    “What?”
    “I said I have nothing to wear.”
    “Me neither. Can we go shopping tomorrow?”
    Cindy rifled through her pantsuits, dismissing one as too heavy, one as too lightweight, another as too formal for a first date, although it looked like something an accountant might like. She finally settled on a pair of gray linen slacks and a loose-fitting white blouse. At least they were clean.
    “Oh, wow. You won’t believe what they’re doing now,” Heather cried, her voice a mixture of shock and delight. “Mom, you’ve got to get out here and see this.”
    Cindy bolted from the closet in time to see the toothy muscleman aim a flowing waterhose down the bottom half of his companion’s minuscule bikini, while the big-haired, big-breasted bimbo squealed with delight. “How can you watch this garbage?”
    “Are you kidding? It’s great.” Then, noticing theclothes in her mother’s hands, “What are you doing? Are you going out?” The latter question carried just a trace of indignation.
    “I won’t be late.”
    “Where are you going?”
    “Just out for dinner. I won’t be late.”
    “So you said. Who are you going to dinner with?”
    “No one special.”
    “What does that mean?” Heather sat up on the bed, crossed her legs, balanced her chin in the palms of her hands, her radar on full alert.
    “It doesn’t mean anything.”
    “You’re being very evasive.”
    “You’re being very nosy.”
    You’re being obstinate
, she’d told Julia this morning.
    You’re being anal
.
    “I’m just curious,” Heather was saying. “You always ask me where I’m going.”
    “That’s because I’m your mother.”
    “Do you have a date?” Heather pressed. “You do, don’t you? With who?”
    “With
whom,”
Cindy corrected. “I thought you were majoring in English.”
    “With
whom
are you going out, Mother?” Heather asked in Julia’s voice, the word “mother” snapping at Cindy like an elastic band.
    Cindy shook her head in defeat. “His name is Neil Macfarlane. He’s Trish’s accountant.”
    “Is he cute?”
    Cindy shrugged. “Trish says he is.”
    “You’ve never seen him?”
    Cindy blushed.
    “So this is like a … Blind Date?” Heather asked with exaggerated flourish, vocally capitalizing the last two words, and pointing toward the TV screen with both hands.
    “You ever been part of a threesome?”
the grinning Romeo was asking his giggling Juliet while hand-feeding her lobster, then licking at the butter that dripped from her chin.
    “Oh my,” Cindy said.
    “Is that what you’re going to wear?” Heather indicated the clothes in her mother’s hands.
    Cindy held the blouse up under her chin. “What do you think?”
    “You might want to go with something a little more low-cut. You know, make more of an impression.”
    “I think this is exactly the impression I want to make. Where’s Duncan?” Cindy asked, suddenly realizing she hadn’t seen Duncan since they got home.
    Heather feigned indifference, shrugged, leaned back on her elbows. “Don’t know.”
    “You don’t? That’s unusual.”
    Heather shot her mother a look. “No, it’s not. We’re not joined at the hip, you know.”
    “You two have a fight?”
    “It’s no big deal.”
    Cindy could tell from her daughter’s tone that it was a subject best not pursued. Besides, if Heather and Duncan were fighting, she really didn’t want to know the details. In truth, she already knew way too much about their relationship. That was the problem with sleeping down the hall from your daughter and her live-in boyfriend. You heard every whisper, every playfulsigh, every enthusiastic squeak of the bed. “Could you do me a favor?” Cindy said with a smile, waiting for her daughter to ask what, then continuing when she didn’t. “Could you