Jennifer Greene - Blame It On Paris

"Pretty much, it really does. Because we're running out of evenings to do it-and she wants clothes- so we always go together to pick them out."

"Ah," he said, thinking he should have known that from his sisters. "So…Thursday night."

"Okay, what time?"

"What time can you get free?"

"Um… six, earliest."

"Then six it is."

BY WEDNESDAY NIGHT at eight-thirty, Kelly was comatose, sprawled outside a dressing room at Ann Taylor.

She'd already raided most of Grape Road with her mom, checking out the usual suspects-Talbots, Coldwater Creek, Chico's, the mall's specialty stores. Typically her mom claimed to be a size eight, would never be more than a six, and looked cuter than the devil no matter what she tried on.

The problem was getting Char to choose. She knew Kelly's budget, and was allergic to getting anything that wasn't on sale. They'd started after work-in a downpour-gulped down fast food for energy and then begun the siege.

Outside the dressing room, Kelly was using bags and purses for a pillow. Her eyes were closed in a mininap when her cell phone vibrated. She couldn't help but smile and feel her tummy warm when she heard Will's voice.

"How's the present shopping going?"

"We're having a blast. But thank God the stores close soon." She added. "Everything okay?" Ever since last night, she'd thought nonstop about his dad. that fabulous unique mansion and how even mighty rich people could be crabby when they didn't feel well. Her ego was still soaring about that whole business. She'd loved helping Will with his parents. She'd have loved both his dad and mom even if she hadn't loved Will.

"Everything's fine…"

Her eyes popped open and she sat up abruptly. "Is there a problem with tomorrow night?"

"Not at all. We're on. Actually. I'm calling for business."

She relaxed again. '"Sure you are."

"No. Really. You do searches on people, right?"

"You know I do. Primarily credit card identity theft."

"So what do you charge for doing these people searches?"

Char emerged from the dressing room in a little black dress. Kelly shook her head. First, because her mom already had a zillion little black dresses, and she almost never wore them. And second, because it was dowdy. "Do you mean, how much would it cost you? Or a normal person?" she asked Will.

"Hey, I'm normal." His tone sounded wounded.

She chuckled. "Well, the going rate is set by the hour. But it also includes expenses. Most of the time, there really aren't any. Most of what I do is on the computer. It's just occasionally I have to travel. Anyway, I can't really give you a flat rate because it honestly depends on the job."

"Okay…" She heard background noise, then a door closing. "Whatever your rate is, I'll pay it. I need you to look into a guy who works at Maguire's. Name of John Henry. I can give you his address, birth date and social security number. I know you have other irons in the fire and might not be able to do this right away-"

She frowned. Her mom emerged from the dressing room again, this time in a cream-and-coral-print skirt with a coral top. If the outfit didn't have Char's name on it. it should have. Kelly gave her an exuberant thumbs-up. but she was still frowning into the phone. "Will, you know I'm not a private investigator, don't you? Because if this is about somebody's divorce or private life-"

"This is about someone working for my dad, where things just aren't adding up. I'd like to be sure his name is real. That he's who he says he is. That's all."

She slumped farther against the wall. "Are you inventing this mini-job just to keep your mitts on me?"

"Kelly, Kelly, Kelly. That is so unfair." He paused. "If I'd thought of that, actually, I'd probably do it. But as it happens, this is on the up-and-up."

She chuckled again, then stopped. Her mom was back in the dressing room. A gaggle of women had just left, leaving the general hallway calm for that moment. She said quietly, "I talked to her, Will. About my dad."

He understood how long it had taken her to finally get this done. "And?"

"And…I went into the conversation so, so mad. Mad that she'd lied to me. Mad that she'd invented a father who never existed and mad that I never had a chance to know my real one."

"And now?"

She didn't think her mother could hear behind the closed door, but she still moved away from the dressing rooms, keeping an eye peeled in case Char came out. "Now I realize the obvious. That my mom wouldn't have lied unless she felt she had to. At the time, she just didn't think she had a lot of choices. I think she lost her head and her heart in Paris. She believed he loved her. She thought they had something real. And all that crashed when she discovered he was married, but it was even more than that. She lost faith in herself, in her judgment." Kelly would have said more, but she saw the dressing room doorknob turn. "I have to go. Will. See you tomorrow night."

Her mother saw her shut the cell phone, but she worked her over about the outfit first. "I like it, I admit, but it costs too much. Particularly when you've got a tight budget right now."

They did the same song, different lyrics but the same refrain, every birthday. "Nonsense. The day I can't buy my mother a birthday present, I'm throwing in the towel." Kelly grabbed the top and skirt before her mother could escalate the discussion.

"I heard you on the phone-were you talking to Jason?"

"No, Mom."

"But have you? Talked with him?"

Kelly dug out her wallet before they reached the checkout line. "Yup. He showed up at work. A very uncomfortable conversation, which I wouldn't be telling you about at all, except that I'm almost sure he'll show up at the block party on Saturday. He won't raise trouble on your birthday that I can imagine. But if you can't find me at some point, it's probably because I'm hiding in your closet behind your shoe boxes."

"Hmm."

"And what does that hmm mean?" The checkout girl took her time, way too much time, folding the outfit with exquisite care, so there was no escaping the store too quickly.

"Are you still seeing that other man? The one from Paris?"

"His name is Will, Mom."

"Yes. Will Maguire. Of the Maguires." Her mother's voice didn't drip disapproval. Just opinion. Char might have come to believe that Will wasn't totally responsible for her breaking up with Jason, but people with the Maguire kind of money weren't remotely on their Christmas card list.

"You didn't like him?"

"The question isn't whether I like him. Or you do. The question is whether you're in love with him. And whether you're ready to risk any more heartache or trauma in your life right now."

"I don't know." Kelly admitted. "Nothing seems to come with a guarantee. I'm going with my heart, and maybe that's the most foolish thing I could be doing. But the only man who really threw a trauma into my life wasn't Will, Mom. It was my father."

Her mom suddenly looked small. "That was my fault."

Guilt pinched her heart. "The hell it was. You're a fabulous mother. And you've made an outstanding success of your life, totally on your own. That my dad didn't appreciate you is his loss. You didn't do a single thing wrong. All you did was fall in love."

Her mom laughed, and they hugged, both of them carrying packages but still managing to walk hip to hip to the car.

It was later, brushing her teeth before bed, that Kelly rethought that exchange. Her mom really hadn't done anything wrong except innocently fall in love. Maybe Kelly wouldn't have lied, but she understood why her mother felt she'd had to.

What troubled her now. though, was the resounding echo of their lives. She couldn't deny it. She'd fallen fiercely in love. In Paris. At a time when her whole sense of self had been shaken up.