Read Totlandia: The Onesies, Book 1 (Fall) for Free Online Page B

the Pacific Heights Moms & Tots Club!*
    Your Inaugural Play Date takes place on Monday, September 10 , 10am at
    The James Leary Flood Mansion, 2222 Broadway, in Pacific Heights (of course!)
    RSVP Bettina Connaught Cross at [email protected]
    *Pending the successful completion of your probationary period. Details to follow.
     
     

Friday, 7 September
 
    “—got it! It arrived yesterday in the mail.” The stiff wind took Clarisse Tanner’s nonchalant words and carelessly tossed them over her shoulder at her jogging partner, Jillian Frederick.
    Every day, come rain or shine, Jillian laced up her sneakers and jogged out of her house on Pacific Street and around the corner to Baker Street, then down to Lombard and beyond Chestnut Street in the Marina district and on to Crissy Field with her one-year-old twin daughters, Amelia and Addison, in tow. On Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, Clarisse joined her, strolling her two-year-old son, Travis.
    Invariably, by the time they reached the midpoint of their jog—Fort Point, under the Golden Gate Bridge—Clarisse was huffing and puffing. “I don’t know how you do this seven days a week,” she groaned. “Three days a week is more than enough torture!”
    Jillian’s grimace gave Clarisse the false impression that she agreed with her. In fact, Jillian loved running.
    It was the best way to run away from her fears.
    By now her life should have been perfect. She had quit college in order to work as a waitress in order to support Scott, her husband, as he finished his undergraduate and master’s degrees in finance. After he’d finally gotten a job as an associate in one of the largest financial management firms in San Francisco, her role in their marriage took on one she enjoyed: moving them from their tiny studio in the basement of an ancient Victorian walk-up in San Francisco’s North Beach, to a roomy (albeit even shabbier) townhouse she’d found for them on one of the most desirable streets in Pacific Heights. With its view of San Francisco Bay, and the fact that it backed up to the wooded and wondrous Presidio National Park, the house was a dream come true. Granted, its rock bottom price reflected its condition. The townhouse needed a new everything: foundation, wiring, and plumbing.
    “I can’t take on a project like this,” Scott had warned her. “I’m working twelve hour days, and I’d rather be golfing on the weekends.”
    “I hear you loud and clear. I promise, come weekends, we’ll both be on the links. And just think, from here, we’re mere minutes from the Presidio golf course.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him. “The asking price is much less than we bargained for. I’ll use the balance for the renovations and supervise the work myself. I can do that, now that I’m not working. And on the weekends, we’ll both work on our handicaps.”
    Reluctantly, he agreed.
    Long, exhausting days were the norm for both of them. The house’s transformation became a five-year labor of love for her. She turned it into a showcase with elegant mouldings, arched doorways, and large picture windows that allowed its breathtaking views to be admired from every room.
    As for golfing, on most weekends, while she managed whatever workmen and handymen were lurking about, Scott made it out to the course without her.
    In time, Jillian gave up golf altogether and took up jogging. It was less time-consuming, and the positive effects on her body were much more gratifying.
    When Scott finally made partner in the firm, he was just as reluctant when she told him about her next project—having a baby.
    “A kid? Aw, hon, I don’t know.” His smile was wary, tired. “When will I ever see the little bugger?”
    She was so surprised at that question she laughed out loud. “When you get home, silly! And you’ll have weekends, too, to play with our child. You’ll just have to give up golf.” It was a joke, of course.
    Apparently he didn’t think