“Can you help me?” Margot asks.
“I…” I sigh. “I can’t promise anything. And I need to talk to Edgar about it first.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t expect you to do anything that might upset him,” she says quickly, the picture-perfect concerned mother. “Thank you, Jo.” She reaches out and places a frail hand over mine.
But instead of making me feel better, my unease only increases. I pray I’m doing the right thing.
Chapter Forty-Five
Jo
After my awkward visit with Margot, I end up going to the barre studio because my phone reminds me. I could use some exercise to work off the nervous tension.
Hilary, Kim and Yuna all show up for the session. I take it much easier than I normally would. Then we all go to the bar for our post-workout drink. Hilary and I get virgin margaritas. Kim and Yuna, on the other hand, order very real martinis.
We chat. Kim talks about her house-hunting expedition with Wyatt. Yuna shares that her mom’s in town to help plan Ivy’s baby shower this coming Saturday. Apparently, she and her mother have declared some kind of truce about discussing marriageable men.
Hilary shows us her sonogram picture. It’s very much like mine. As a matter of fact, our dots look so similar that I don’t know how anybody would be able to tell theirs apart without the patient’s name and date on it.
“Show us yours,” Yuna says, her eyes bright with excitement. “You saw a doctor, right?”
“Yeah, I did. But it’s at home. I forgot,” I say. There’s a chorus of boos around the table. “Sorry. Next time. I almost forgot about barre today, too.”
“How come?” Kim asks. “I thought you were planning to join us.”
“I was, but there was this new client meeting, and then I was going to grab some tacos from my uncle’s restaurant and come here, right? But guess who I ran into?”
My friends lean forward. “Who?” Hilary says.
“Edgar’s mom. Margot Blackwood.”
Kim and Hilary show mild curiosity. But Yuna recoils like she’s seen the proverbial snake.
“Are you kidding?” she says, her face scrunching. She reaches for her drink and empties half the glass.
“What?” She and Ivy are close, so she undoubtedly knows more about Edgar’s family than me or any of the tabloid writers.
“Jo, seriously. Stay away from her. She’s an absolute bitch.”
My jaw slackens. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Yuna cuss. She says outrageous things, but calling Edgar’s mom a bitch somehow seems like a step beyond the pale for her.
“I know,” she says. “But it’s true.”
“What did she do?” There has to be a story here.
Hilary and Kim lean slightly toward Yuna.
“She’s the reason Ivy and Tony wasted a decade, and she’s the reason the entire family is a mess. What did she want from you? Spying on Edgar, maybe?” Yuna asks me.
“No,” I say, surprised that Yuna’s first thought would be spying. Margot didn’t even hint at anything like that. “She asked me to come to Tempérane so she could teach me how to be a proper wife to Edgar.”
Kim and Hilary exchange a glance. “Talk about freakin’ rude!” Kim says.
Yuna snorts. “Tell her to go to hell. The best thing you can do for Edgar is be the exact opposite of his mom. Her number one talent is making people miserable. I’ve never seen any of her kids look happy when the topic of their mother comes up. Including Ivy. Margot Blackwood is a piece of human trash who only loves herself, no one else.”
There’s a lull in the conversation for a few minutes. What do you say after a declaration like that? But eventually we start talking about Ivy’s baby shower. I’m only half listening, though. Margot Blackwood must be something truly awful. Much worse than what I suspected after meeting her.
Ugh. And I sort of agreed to help her reconcile with Edgar. I don’t have to go through with it, though. She wasn’t fully honest with me, so why should I help her?