Adjusting The Rear View

By Hilari T. Cohen

Tobey Springer and Jillian Bowman have been best friends for as long as either one can remember. When Jillian's husband dies suddenly and Tobey finds herself in the middle of a nasty divorce, they hit the road in a 1966 Mustang for a cross-country madcap adventure.

Tobey has decided to try and rekindle a romance with a man from her past – a heart-stoppingly handsome and hugely successful, multi-million dollar box office star. She has similar plans for Jillian – Tobey wants her friend to reconnect with the one man who had stolen her heart years before. What Tobey doesn't know is that Jillian's got a secret that she's afraid to share with anyone…

Jillian is afraid that if she lets Tobey in on the truth, she'll lose the person she can't bear to live without – her best friend. But if she doesn't tell Tobey, Jillian fears that she might just lose herself instead.

From coast to coast and misadventure to mayhem, these two unforgettable women will grab you by the heart and make you want to call your own best friend to hit the road for a road trip of your very own! 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Monkeypaw Press
• Release date: Jan 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9780998135519

Hilari T. Cohen

Hilari Cohen has spent her lifetime surrounded by books. First as a reader, then as an editor for renowned publishing houses such as Grosset and Dunlap, Harlequin and Zebra Books, where she worked with multiple bestselling authors before deciding to give fiction writing a try herself. She lives on Long Island, N.Y. with her husband. You can email her at: [e-mail] Or follow her on Facebook: www.facebook.com/HilariCohenAuthor Or on Twitter: https://twitter.com/hilaricohen

Book preview

Adjusting The Rear View

Hilari T. Cohen

Published by Monkeypaw Press, 2019.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

ADJUSTING THE REAR VIEW

First edition. January 23, 2019.

Copyright © 2019 Hilari T. Cohen.

ISBN: 978-0998135519

Written by Hilari T. Cohen.

For my boys,KHC, JSC and DAC

Adjusting the Rear View

Hilari T. Cohen

Adjusting the Rear View is a novel. Any similarity to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2017 by Hilari T. Cohen

ISBN 10: 0-9981355-1-8

ISBN 13: 978-0-9981355-1-9

Cover Design: Noelle Raffaele

Formatting: Polgarus Studio

Published by Monkeypaw Press LLC

Charleston, SC

For my boys: KHC, JSC and DAC

Other books by Hilari T. Cohen:

The Lyric of Memory

The Gypsy Moth Chronicles

June #1

July #2

August #3

Table of Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Nineteen

Sample: The Gypsy Moth Chronicles

About the Author

One

Tobey Springer pulled into the driveway of Jillian Bowman’s house and stopped just inches short of the garage door before slamming the gearshift of her late model BMW X5 into park. Within seconds, she was on the front porch ringing the doorbell, despite the fact that it was barely seven a.m. Two days, she fumed, her wild red hair flying away from her face as she stormed back across the manicured lawn and through a perfectly planted flowerbed. Two days without any contact is long enough.

She waited for Jillian to open the door, although patience was not a skill set of hers, for as long as she could before heading over to the flower pot, third from the left of the white azalea bush, where she knew the spare key was hidden. She bent down and scooped it up and within seconds disabled the alarm and was standing inside the darkened entryway of the house.

Jilly, she yelled. I know you’re in here. Enough already. Time to rejoin the living.

There was an eerie silence. Shrugging off her blue quilted jacket, she laid it down on the bench by the door, grabbed her cell phone out of her hunter-green Loro Piana bag just in case she needed to dial 911, and walked into the kitchen. It was pin neat, as always. If the world met with a nuclear disaster, Jillian would die knowing her house was clean, nothing out of place, picture perfect. The opposite of herself, Tobey mused. Maybe that’s what had bonded them, kept each the best friend the other had ever had for the last forty years.

It had been a trying six months for them both, and no one knew that better than Jillian. She’d been there that afternoon when a random photo of an anonymous bikini-clad woman showed up on Tobey’s husband Ted’s phone with a caption that simply said, For our weekend away in Miami. It was odd for Ted to have been without his phone, but he had just gone for a run and had left it on the kitchen counter. That discovery had ended their three-decade-long marriage when Tobey uncovered the depth of the affair he’d been having with one of his young employees. She became a super sleuth, delving into all sorts of Internet stalking outlets to finally gather enough information to confront him. Even though he was apologetic and seemed truly remorseful, for Tobey, there was no turning back. She liked to believe that she could have forgiven a one-night stand, but she had uncovered a much longer relationship. It was too much hurt to look past, too much pain to ignore. So she’d kicked him out of the house and shut him out of her heart. Only Jillian knew the truth: while Tobey was destroyed by Ted’s indiscretion, she was, unfortunately, still very much in love with the man she’d married. And while Tobey had been experiencing her own crisis, Jillian most certainly was going through something even bigger than either of them could have ever imagined.

Okay, Jilly. I’m gonna count to ten. Then I’m coming up there. If you have a visitor, please ask him to put his pants on, Tobey taunted in the direction of the staircase to the second floor, knowing full well that she’d find her friend alone, but hoping she’d at least get a chuckle out of her. Now that she was inside, Tobey felt what she had only heard on the phone—Jillian’s depression was almost a physical presence, ghost like and hovering as a cold, low fog throughout the house. One… she began. Nothing. Two… Still nothing. Three…

What do you want? Tobey heard Jillian’s muffled voice and felt a wave of relief wash over her. It was the first time she allowed herself to think about what she might have done if she’d found her friend in an unresponsive state. Since Bob had died months before, Tobey could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she’d been able to get Jillian to have a coherent conversation with her, and she was more than just merely worried now. She knew that she had to take action, to get her dearest friend out of this strange funk that had overtaken her. Jillian had always been the stronger of the two, the person Tobey reliably went to when she needed a shoulder to cry on or a pep talk when whatever she had to do seemed like a mountain too tall to climb. Jillian being down for the count made Tobey both uncomfortable and nervous, and she didn’t want to be either—she was determined to help her once and for all.

I’m coming up. Tobey kicked off her Manolos and took to the steps in her stocking feet. She crossed the landing in record time and pushed open the door to the master suite. There was Jillian, curled up in a ball in the center of the massive bed, crumpled pink tissues strewn around her like hundreds of dying rose petals.

Time to get up, Tobey said. It’s been a long haul, but this pity party is officially over. Tobey walked over to the massive picture window and pulled back the heavy damask drapery. She turned to see Jillian squinting before immediately pulling the blanket up over her head.

No, was all Jillian said, her voice now muted under the down comforter.

Yes, Tobey replied, walking over to the bed and snatching the cover with both hands, throwing it to the floor. Will you get up? I’ve been calling you for two days. Shiva has been over for months. It’s time to walk around the block and move on—that is the tradition, you know. Get yourself back into the world; be around other people outside of your house. Remember?

Jillian’s deep brown eyes reflected all of her pain. How can you say that to me? Bob is dead. What am I supposed to do now?

Tobey shook her head and sighed, not willing to give in to her friend’s whining tone. Let’s start with taking a shower, huh? It’s getting a bit ripe in here, she deadpanned, holding her nose.

Not funny, Jillian replied.

Tobey did not back down. Look. I get that you’re sad. We’ve been over this, and now there’s nothing left for me to say. I know how much you miss him, but Bob made a decision and went out on his own terms. You couldn’t have done anything about it.

Really? My husband of thirty years commits suicide and you think there was nothing I could have done? There must have been something, right? I’m a terrible person. Jillian turned her face back into the pillow, crying now.

Tobey felt all the wind go out of her. She crawled onto the bed and gave Jillian a hug. Listen carefully. Never say that to me about yourself ever again. You are a brave and wonderful person. The strongest woman I know. Remember back in high school? The time you climbed up on the stage in front of the whole school and called Ben Riley out for the way he treated me? You saved me from myself that day, and countless more times after that. It’s going to be all right. You’re going to go on. And I’m here with you. You’re never alone.

Tobey let out the deep breath she’d been unaware she’d been holding since opening the front door. Listen. We’ll start small. You shower, and then we’ll head over to the coffee shop for breakfast. Greek omelet, extra crispy, just the way you like it. Whole-wheat toast. Coffee. Doesn’t that sound good?

Jillian sniffled into Tobey’s hair and reached for another tissue. Maybe, she replied, sitting up against the carved wood headboard.

That a girl! I knew I could entice you enough to get you out of bed. How about I turn on the shower while you go brush your teeth? You need to get out of the house for a bit. It’s a beautiful spring day.

If I go shower and eat something, will you go away?

Do you want me to go away? Tobey asked, somewhat chagrined.

Jillian held her friend’s gaze, her brown eyes filling with tears once again. No, she squeaked. I don’t. I hate being alone.

Well then, my dear friend, you’re in luck. I’ve hatched a plan you’re going to love.

A plan? Jillian asked, pushing the blanket aside and climbing out of bed.

Yes. But I’m reserving all details until I see you eat something. Look at you…you are wasting away. I thought it was bad during shiva when you ate nothing, but that was months ago and you’re even thinner now! All that expensive deli gone to waste…

You know I hate that stuff. Processed meat. Ugh.

Save it, sister. That’s what we do. We send high cholesterol food to one another in times of need and despair.

Jillian headed into the large bathroom. I know, but really? Pastrami when you’re mourning? It doesn’t seem right.

Hearing the shower turn on, Tobey raised her voice teasingly. Yeah, but I remember that the potato salad was good. You should have tried it.

Too much mayonnaise, was the muffled reply.

Tobey began to pick up the discarded tissues and put them in the small trashcan by Jillian’s vanity. Once she had retrieved them all, she started to pull the comforter up over the bed. She knew that Jillian would probably redo the whole thing once she was out of the shower, but Tobey figured it was the thought that counted.

It was this world of differences between them that had cemented their bond all those years ago. As unalike as they were, they had something special that was unexplainable to most and remained unspoken to one another. They were each other’s person, the go-to, the guide, the one neither could live without. They were best friends.

Once Jillian dried her hair and got dressed, and of course, as expected, remade the bed, Tobey led her by the hand to the car parked outside on the driveway. She tried not to think about the fact that Jillian’s Marni jeans, once form fitting, now hung on her too thin frame, and that the jade-green cashmere sweater set she had put on practically swallowed her up. Her usually perfectly highlighted blond hair was overly long and streaked with gray, and her deep brown eyes reflected a sadness that hurt Tobey to the core.

The truth, Tobey realized, was that Jillian was still in shock over the circumstances of Bob’s death. It had been a brilliantly warm early fall day, the cloudless sky inviting all into the outdoors before what was predicted to be a brutal winter. Jillian had been immersed in planting bulbs in her flower garden, unaware that after lunch Bob had stretched out on their bed and downed an entire bottle of Ambien, half a bottle of Lexapro, and some Abilify, all chased with a very expensive bottle of his drink of choice—Macallan Rare Cask. At first, when she came back inside to a quiet house after working in the garden, Jillian had recounted to Tobey, she thought he was sleeping. Bob had been depressed since selling his successful tech company to a large investment group and had been seeing a shrink to help sort out his feelings about his newly minted retirement. But when he didn’t wake up after two hours, she went to check on him again. That’s when she noticed the empty pill bottles neatly stacked on the night table, right next to the half-finished bottle of whiskey. She had called for an ambulance, but it was too late. Bob was dead.

As Tobey drove them to the shopping center where their favorite local coffee shop was located, she tried to keep the conversation light.

Can you believe that Julie had the nerve to show up last week at the spring opening of the club? After she and Craig didn’t support our annual fundraiser at the children’s hospital? Really… She stopped herself from continuing, remembering that the fundraiser she had just referred to had taken place a week after Bob’s death. Of course Jillian was unaware of who had attended—she hadn’t been there.

I guess, was all Jillian said, head turned toward the window, staring out at the familiar landscape as though she was seeing it for the first time.

We’re here, Tobey said a touch too brightly, pulling into a parking spot in front of the coffee shop. She stepped out of the car and watched Jillian’s slow and deliberate movements as she walked, head down, toward the entrance. Tobey got to the door first and pulled it open for her.

They were immediately drawn in to the smell of breakfast—eggs cooking on the open grill top with bacon sizzling on the side, a fresh batch of pancakes waiting to be flipped over and plated. It was comforting to Tobey, and she knew that she had to get Jillian to finally eat something. This was her best chance. They had been coming to this small spot since they were young mothers, having both moved into the same suburban neighborhood together as soon as they had babies. In the small, quietly upscale town of Oyster Bay Cove on Long Island where they had put down roots, this coffee shop had been their refuge, the one place where they could bring their young children and not worry about the noise or the mess; it was their home away from home. Everyone knew them, from Gus who owned the place and was the head chef, to Manuel who bussed the tables. Their favorite waitress was all over them as soon as they walked through the door.

Oh my, Tula said when she saw them enter. Her face was flushed from the exertion of work, and her gray hair was fighting against the combs she had used to fasten it in place earlier that morning. Come back here to my table. I haven’t seen you in months, Jillian. How are you sweetheart?

Been better, was all Jillian could muster, sliding into the mauve-colored booth, its vinyl seat cover cracked from use.

Can you bring us some coffee, Tula? Tobey asked, trying to ease the uncomfortable feeling she knew Jillian was feeling outside the walls of her house. And I promised this one a crispy Greek omelet, she continued. She’s got to eat something. I’ll have one too.

Tula gave Jillian an all-knowing look and scampered off to place the order. They sat in silence until the older woman returned with the steaming mugs and a small plate of cookies.

These aren’t on the menu, but Athena baked last night. Kourabiedes. So good.

Tula pushed the butter confections toward Jillian. Try one.

I will, I promise. Right after I drink this, Jillian replied, lifting her coffee and mustering a weak smile. Thank you.

Okay then, Tula replied. I’ll hold you to it. Now let me go check on those eggs. She turned and walked back over to the grill.

You are going to eat. No disappointing Tula—she’ll be devastated, Tobey admonished.

Okay, enough already. I’ll try.

Tobey relaxed for the first time since she had arrived at Jillian’s house earlier that morning. It was comforting to be around other people in these most familiar surroundings because it took some of the pressure off her. She felt responsible for Jillian, now more than ever. She reached over and poured a little bit of milk into Jillian’s cup and then added some to her own before taking a sip.

So, are you ready to hear what I have in store for us?

Should I be afraid? Because I’m not feeling so good, and I’m not sure how much I can handle, Jillian replied.

Don’t be silly. I’ve just been thinking a lot about what you’ve been through, and all that I’ve been through in the past year. I think you need to have something to do…and we both need something to look forward to.

All I want to do is go back to sleep. Jillian stared down at her mug.

Tobey let out an exasperated sigh. Cut it out, already. You haven’t even heard my plan.

Just then Tula returned with the food, delivering it with a flourish. Extra crispy, my girlies. Just the way you like it. Now put some jelly on that toast, please. You could both use the calories!

Tobey smiled up at her. Thanks for including me in that, Tula. I’ll make sure this one eats.

I’ll check back on you in a bit. That table of men over there is on my last nerve. Look at that idiot, raising his coffee cup in the air, like there’s a magic urn in the sky that’s gonna fill that for him. So rude. With that Tula turned away to deal with her other customers.

Tobey picked up her fork only to find Jillian staring at her plate.

What’s the matter? Not well done enough for you? Want me to send it back?

Jillian sighed. No. It’s just so big. I don’t think I can finish it.

Let’s start with a bite. Tobey picked up Jillian’s fork and placed it in her hand. Can you do this yourself, or do you need me to feed you?

Jillian stared back at her. Am I being that pathetic?

Actually, you are. Now eat.

Tobey watched as Jillian cut into the omelet and took a small bite. She tucked into her own plate, satisfied to see half of her friend’s meal gone before she put her fork back down.

I guess I was hungry, Jillian said, picking up a cookie. She looked it over before biting into it, remarking, So good.

See. I knew you’d perk up once you ate. Tobey pushed her own plate away. Now you’re ready to hear my plan.

Okay. But remember, I’m still not myself. Speak slowly.

Tobey smiled. I want the two of us to go see Stacey.

Jillian stared blankly at Tobey for a moment before replying, That’s your big idea? To go visit my daughter in Los Angeles?

Well, yeah. But there’s something else. I think we should drive there.

Jillian looked at Tobey with a stunned stare. Why on earth would we drive to LA? That would take forever. We could fly there if we wanted to, and I’m not sure I want to go anywhere right now.

I thought you might say that. So here’s the thing. I found Stephen.

Jillian stared back at Tobey. You did what?

I found Stephen.

I heard you. I just don’t believe you. Why would you do that? Really? Jillian shook her head in disbelief.

Well, I got pretty good at sleuthing over the past year, as you know, Tobey replied, taking a sip of her coffee before continuing. And I got to thinking. Why should Ted be the only one who has a fling outside of our marriage? Why can’t I do the same? And if I’m going to do it with anyone, why not do it with the one man who got away?

You have lost your mind, you know. I’m not even entertaining this thought. We’re talking about the same Stephen, right? Mega box office superstar, heart-stoppingly good-looking Stephen?

One and the same, Tobey replied matter-of-factly.

I may be depressed, but you’ve lost your mind, Jillian repeated. And besides, Stephen’s just a ghost. He’s the ghost of our lost youth.

"Nope. He’s real, believe me, and I have the People magazine articles to prove it. He lives in California, and I’m determined to see him again. C’mon, Jilly. You and I are both free agents. We’ve got nothing to tie us down for the first time since we were girls. Bob is gone, I’m divorcing Ted. Our kids are grown and live on their own. Why shouldn’t we have some fun?"

Because I’m not sure that driving across the country would be fun. And seeing Stephen again? Even if you could get anywhere near him, which, by the way, is highly doubtful, it’s a terrible idea. You forget that the last time you saw him, I had to scrape you up off the floor. Jillian pushed her cooled coffee away and leaned her elbows on the table. Besides, what would you say to him? And how the hell did you track him down anyway?

Tobey smiled broadly. "Oh see, you are interested! I knew you’d like my plan."

Back it up. I didn’t say I liked the plan. I’m just curious how you found Stephen after all these years.

He’s a public figure. It wasn’t that hard.

But it’s one thing to know what the press says. It’s another to actually track him down. Which is it?

Do you honestly think I’d drive across the country if I didn’t think I’d actually see him again? I have it all worked out.

I don’t know, Tobey. This is all crazy talk.

Tobey reached across the table and took Jillian’s hands in hers. I know. But look at us. Neither of us could have predicted that we’d be single again. We’ve been married for so long I think we’ve both lost a bit of ourselves along the way. Take a chance with me. If you don’t go, I won’t go.

That’s not fair! Jillian exclaimed, pulling her hands away and placing them on her lap. You can go visit Stacey anytime you want. I’m sure she’d love to see you. And if you really need to see Stephen, you can do that too.

Nope. Not without you…You’re my wingman, Tobey said, smiling broadly.

Jillian sat back against the vinyl seat, assessing the look on Tobey’s face. Sheer determination stared back at her from across the table, those familiar deep green eyes looking past the pain of Ted’s indiscretion, reaching deep into Jillian’s soul.

What’s it my kids say to me all the time? YOLO? Tobey asked.

I don’t know what your kids say, Tobey. And what the hell is YOLO?

"You only live once, she replied quickly before continuing. Do it for me."

Jillian thought for a brief moment about all the times she had heard those fateful words come from her friend’s mouth. Wear this dress. Try this drink. Sneak out with me past curfew. Join Shout. Tobey had spurred her on to do so many things she’d never have done on her own.

I don’t know, she whispered. It’s too soon.

Wrong. It’s the perfect time. Tell you what. I’ll be parked on your driveway tomorrow morning at eight. We’ll get an early start. We can talk about it then.

Are you kidding? Get in the car and talk about it then? I’m onto you. Once I get in the car, there will be no turning back. It will be another crazy adventure to add to the long list of nutty things we’ve done together. This time I just don’t know how much I can really contribute to your scheme. I’m so tired.

Exactly, Tobey said with a smile, taking a last swig of coffee. You need something really crazy to jolt you back to being yourself. If you’ll just take a few minutes to remember all the fun we’ve had…

Wow. If that’s supposed to convince me then I’m really not sure about this whole thing.

Tobey reached out across the table and grabbed Jillian’s hand. C’mon. You know I’ve got your back. Have I ever steered you wrong?

"Do you really want me to answer that?’ was all Jillian could bring herself to say.

Two

Jillian took a deep breath before stepping into the cool marble entranceway of Hamilton High School in Little Neck, Queens. It was another large, public New York City high school, both overcrowded and institutional. She hated being the new kid, not knowing anyone or how to find her way around these strange surroundings. Her father had just switched jobs for what seemed like the hundredth time in her life, and once again she was in another unfamiliar school without knowing a soul. As she navigated the crowded halls looking for her algebra classroom, she could only hope that she didn’t stand out too much, because she knew how other kids just looked for someone like her to torture.

Brightly decorated posters dotted the hallways, offering information about after school clubs and honor societies, but Jillian kept her head down as she walked. She didn’t want to join anything. She just wanted to get back home in one piece when her day here was done. As she rounded the corner to her assigned classroom, she collided with another student. Signs and books went flying in every direction as they both struggled to keep their balance and stay upright. It was mortifying for Jillian. She wanted to blend into the landscape, not make a scene.

Are you okay? the other girl asked, now down on her knees, picking up stray markers that had skittered across the highly polished floor. I can be such a klutz sometimes. I didn’t see you there.

I’m fine. Sorry. I think I may have bumped into you.

The petite redhead stood up and smoothed down the tiny black-and-burgundy plaid pleated skirt she was wearing over thick opaque tights. She had a short-sleeved white button-down man’s shirt on as well, tucked primly into the skirt and accented by a wide black patent leather belt, which perfectly matched her neat ballet flats. A beribboned white headband held her wavy hair back, and Jillian couldn’t help but stare into her big green eyes. They had flecks of amber in them.

You new? I haven’t seen you around before, the redhead said.

Yup. It’s my first day. Just moved here, Jillian answered in a short, nervous staccato. Looking at the other girl, Jillian felt grossly underdressed in her tight-fitting Levi’s and Tall Ships tee shirt from the past summer’s bicentennial celebration.

Welcome. I’m Tobey. I’m a freshman too. The redhead shifted some of what she was holding to extend her hand in greeting.

Unaccustomed to such a formal gesture, Jillian at first did not know what to do, but the other girl kept her arm out in midair until Jillian shook her hand.

Tobey said, "Have you heard about Shout?"

No, Jillian replied, following Tobey’s gesture to all the signs adorning the walls. What is it?

Only the single most important club you can join here. It’s an original musical competition between the classes. Everyone wants to do it. You’ve got to come to the meeting tomorrow afternoon. Get in on the ground floor, she said enthusiastically. "I already know everything about it because my older sister graduated last year—she’s in college now—and she was commissioner of Shout. I watched all the performances over the last four years, and I even sat in on some of the meetings my sister had at our house when she directed the show as a junior. Well, actually, she backtracked, if I’m being entirely honest, it was more like…eavesdropping. But I listened really carefully. I’m ready to do this for myself now, you know, for our class this year. And I know I’m going to be commissioner when we’re seniors. I just feel it! All the really cool kids get involved!"

"I don’t know. I’m not, um, theatrical," Jillian replied, stunned at the rapid-fire information being shared by this stranger.

You don’t have to act or sing to get involved. There’s costume design, set design, script writing…so much to do. You should come, Tobey urged.

Just then the bell rang, and the hallway filled with students scurrying to class. Jillian felt a rush of nerves and looked down at her schedule.

"Do you