He shrugged and took a gulp. “Now that she’s gone, I guess it’s a moot point.”
“What about you? What do you want from all of this?” I felt like my therapist.
“Ha! What’d your therapist say, ‘It’s never too late’? That’s bullshit.” He slugged his bourbon. “Tiffany’s pregnant.” His stony eyes made it impossible to guess his feelings. Was this the real reason he’d sought my opinion? As a new parent?
“Congratulations.” I coughed. “Is that what you want?”
“I didn’t even know we were trying. Do you remember that dinner, when she said she wanted to use a surrogate?”
I nodded.
“I actually believed her.” He palmed the top of his head.
“Are you implying she’s trying to trap you?” I spoke softly, unsure whether that was the right phrasing. Peter and I weren’t the type to talk about ordinary topics like the weather, let alone personal topics like marriage and family woes.
“I don’t think so. At least I hope not. It’s just… the timing couldn’t be worse.” He looked over my head at the books stacked on the floor-to-ceiling shelves behind me.
“Do you want to be a father?”
“Maddie and I always talked about it.”
It was becoming clearer to me that my brother was still in love with Maddie.
“What’s wrong with the timing now?”
Peter massaged his eyelids. “Work—it’s killing me.”
Neither of us had to work, but both of us had an incessant drive to succeed. Our mother had drilled that into us.
“There you are.” Sarah breezed into the library, smiling at the still-sleeping babies. “Any trouble?”
She meant the twins, of course, but I nodded in Peter’s direction. He still had his eyes covered, so he didn’t notice.
Sarah sat down on the couch next to me.
“How was lunch?” I asked to give Peter a few more moments.
“Good. It was nice to get out, even if only for an hour.” She motioned to the babies. “It’s hard to stay away.”
“I bet. You’ve been holed up here for days.”
She questioned me with her eyes.
Peter smoothed his suit pants and started to get up.
“Wait, Peter. Stay. Talk.” I motioned for him to retake his seat.
He hesitated but soon eased back onto the couch, rubbing his eyes. Did he want to stay and talk, or was the bourbon kicking in? Either way, I was glad. I wasn’t sure I’d let him behind the wheel at the moment.
“Would anyone like another drink?” Sarah marched to the bar.
“Please,” I said.
She returned with a gin and tonic, which she thrust into my hand, and the Blanton’s bottle, which she set on the side table next to Peter. “So what’s going on?”
Peter remained mum, but he gave a go ahead hitch of his shoulders.
“Two issues, I think. One: Dad asked Peter to be his best man. Two: Tie is pregnant.”
Sarah nodded thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her water glass. “Congratulations, Peter. How far along is she?”
“Ten weeks.” He slugged his bourbon, simultaneously tugging on his already loosened tie.
“A spring birth, then. She did it right. Being eight months pregnant in the summer is hell.” Sarah’s laughter was more forced than normal. “Are you happy?” Her tone was soothing, like a therapist’s.
“Yeah.” His face was deathly pale. “It’s normal, right? To be nervous?” He peeked at Freddie, who stirred quietly. The faint trace of a smile curved on my brother’s lips.
“Of course it is. I fainted when Sarah told me she wanted to have a baby.”
“Really?” he asked with obvious relief.
“Dead away. Lizzie has a habit of doing that.” Sarah rose to get Fred. “Have they eaten?”
“Nope. Slept the entire time. Maybe because both were up most of the night.”
“So it’s true? Parents never sleep?” Peter’s eyes narrowed.
“Not a wink. I gave a lecture yesterday, and ten minutes afterward, I couldn’t remember whether I’d actually shown up for it or whether the whole thing was a hallucination. I’m leaning toward the notion that I actually gave the lecture, since I haven’t had a phone call demanding to know where I was.”
“Lizzie! Let the man find out on his own.” Freddie latched on to Sarah’s nipple, and she placed a soft blanket over her shoulder, providing some semblance of privacy.
I wanted to fire back, “Says the woman who’s constantly flaunting her boobs.” Even in my sleep-deprived state, I was wise enough to keep this to myself.
I wiggled in my seat, wondering whether I’d ever get used to Sarah feeding the twins in front of people, even if Peter was my brother. Peter, to his credit, didn’t react, unlike the time in the hospital. Maybe he was distracted by his situation. Or maybe he was becoming used to outrageous behavior; he was raised by our mother, after all, and married to Tie, not to mention that he’d been engaged to Maddie. It dawned on me that all of his life, my brother had been henpecked. The thought almost made me laugh out loud. Was that the reason behind his bravado?
“So, the wedding,” Sarah jumped right in. “You’re going to accept, right?”
“That’s what everyone keeps hinting at.”
“Oh, I’m not hinting. I’m stating you can’t refuse.” Sarah’s voice was soft, but her face was hard with a fierce determination. She smiled sweetly. “One problem solved.”
“Is it that easy for you?” Bafflement was etched into my brother’s brow.
“When it comes to family, yes. Let’s face it; the majority of people phone it in when it comes to family situations. All you have to do is show up, give a toast, and be yourself—” She shifted in her seat, leaving me to wonder whether she actually wanted to say, “Be yourself but not completely.”
He turned to me. “Would you be his best man?”
“Uh—”
“Hypothetically, of course. I’m not trying…” He left the rest unsaid.
I stifled a smile. Was he taking a dig at me or not? The Peter sitting on my couch was not the Peter I was used to.
“Of course. Like I said, when Tie asked me to be in your wedding—I didn’t want to.”
Sarah’s laughter trilled. “It was masterful how Tie set that up.”
Peter met her eyes. “I didn’t even know until the rehearsal.”
“What’s your objection to Charles and Helen marrying?” Sarah asked.
He bristled. “My mother, of course. She’d never approve.”
Sarah blinked as if trying to ignore Peter’s hypocrisy. Peter the Cheater, who had betrayed Maddie and married Tie.
Interesting that he’d mentioned Mom to Sarah and not me. Regardless, he was dead-on. Mom would not approve of Helen. And she sure as hell wouldn’t want her husband to have an ounce of happiness without her. Not that she’d provided any happiness while they were together.
“Your mom isn’t here.” Sarah bravely stared him down.
“I know that. But she’s been in the ground less than a year, and he’s already planning a November wedding.” He stood and paced the room.
I glanced to Sarah for guidance, and she motioned that we should give him a moment. The fact that he was opening up was a minor miracle.
“Hello!” Maddie shouted from the entryway.
“In the library,” Sarah and I shouted back. Ollie fussed, and I rushed to the baby’s aid.
Peter froze.
“Hello, Peter. I didn’t know you’d be here.” Maddie breezed in. “Can I have some?” She didn’t wait for a response, flipping open the box and snagging herself a slice of barbeque chicken pizza.
Peter still hadn’t moved, except his eyes, which followed Maddie’s every move.
She sat on the couch and tucked her legs under her. “What’d I miss?”
I snorted, and Sarah laughed.
Maddie’s ey
es scrutinized her former fiancé. “I take it this isn’t a casual family get-together.”
“Yeah, right. Because these two are so close.” Sarah yanked her head to me and then to Peter.
Peter flinched, but I just shrugged.
“So lay it on me. From the look in Peter’s eyes, he needs help.” Her face filled with a tender expression.
“Tie’s pregnant, and Dad wants Peter to be his best man.” I handed Ollie to Sarah and took Freddie to burp him.
“Jesus, Elizabeth. It’s bad enough you told Sarah.” Peter marched to the window, turning his back on us.
Maddie’s face blanched, and she set her pizza aside. “I need a drink for this conversation.” She levered herself off the couch and swished Peter’s bottle of bourbon on her way to the bar. “This may not get us through.” The bottle was less than half full.
Sarah and Maddie both turned to me with expressions that implored me to make a bourbon run. I groaned and muttered that the bar was fully stocked with other booze. It was hard to tell whether Peter had heard or whether he was even listening. I’d only had two sips of gin and tonic, so I couldn’t use that as an excuse not to go. Then again, did I want to stick around with Peter and Maddie in the same room?
“Anything else while I’m out?” I asked.
Maddie draped an arm over my shoulder and walked me to the front door. “Arby’s.”
“We just ate an hour ago.”
“Trust me on this. Otherwise I’ll have to send you back out. We can keep it warm in the oven.”
I pulled away. “Since when did you start liking Arby’s anyway?”
“Not me. When he’s stressed, Peter loves the Bourbon bacon and steak, curly fries, and orange-cream shake. Oh, jalapeno poppers and a cherry turnover.”
“You’re joking, right? My brother, who wears three-piece suits and custom-made shoes, dines at Arby’s?”
“Crazy for it. Order a lot. This is going to be a long day.” She plucked Freddie from my arms. “What about you, Fred? Will you be an Arby’s man like your uncle?”
By the time I returned, arms laden with Arby’s bags and two bottles of Blanton’s, Sarah was alone in the library with the sleeping babies.
“Great,” I whispered. “I bought all this for nothing.”
Sarah put a finger to her lips. “They’re in the breakfast nook. Drop off the loot and come straight back.”
I threw her an incredulous look. Of course I’d dash for cover! If Maddie wanted to swoop in and play Peter’s therapist, by all means.
***
We left them to it, and the next morning, when I retrieved the paper from the driveway, I wasn’t all that surprised to see both of their cars still parked on the street.
So much for Peter’s golf meeting. And possibly his marriage.
I sighed. My newspaper hadn’t been pissed on today, at least, but there were some bite marks. That I could handle. I spied George in his driveway and waved exuberantly, letting him know there were no hard feelings.
Sarah wandered into the kitchen, looking like hell. “I don’t think Arby’s agrees with me.”
“The ham and cheese wasn’t bad. Next time, maybe you shouldn’t scarf all the jalapeno poppers. Just so you know, I’m not on diaper duty today. Who knows what that’s going to do to the twins’ stomachs?”
“Nice try.”
I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and shook it. Sarah nodded, and I lobbed it to her and extracted another from the back of the stainless steel Kenmore Elite, which had cost more than an average used car.
“I’m almost afraid to ask, but where did Peter and Maddie sleep?”
Sarah hitched a shoulder. “I went to bed ages before them. Did you bump into them at all during the night?”
I shook my head.
“Me neither.”
The guest bedrooms were upstairs, but I had only seen one door closed on my way down this morning.
The kitchen looked like a cyclone had swept through: Arby’s wrappers, empty wine bottles, and a half-empty Blanton’s bottle. Hopefully, that was only the second bottle, not the third. Could a human drink a full bottle of bourbon and survive? Surely Maddie had consumed some of it.
“Let’s get the babies up. I have a feeling our guests will be in rough shape.” Sarah tugged the tie on my bathrobe to get me moving. We padded upstairs in our slippers, still yawning.
When we reached the floor above, we found Maddie hugging a wide-awake Freddie. I quirked an eyebrow as Sarah quietly closed the guest bedroom door. For someone who’d stayed up most of the night, drinking and commiserating with Peter, Maddie was coping well.
After disappearing into the nursery and reappearing with Ollie, Sarah wrenched her neck in that bossy way of hers, to instruct me to collect the monkey chairs.
When I arrived in the kitchen, I immediately turned my attention to Maddie. “How are you even upright?”
“Coffee. Now!” Maddie buckled Fred into his chair.
“Do I even want to know what happened last night between you and my brother?” I scooped organic Guatemalan coffee grounds into the filter and filled the maker with water.
“You aren’t seriously asking me whether I slept with Peter, are you?”
I tilt-a-whirled around. Maddie’s arms were defensively folded across her chest.
“You know, the way things are going in this family, nothing would shock me anymore. So did you?”
“I’m not going to dignify that question with an answer.”
Her cageyness troubled me.
Sarah set out a coffee cup for Maddie—Peter’s new mistress. I was almost certain of it.
“He’s still in love with you, ya know.” I retrieved lemon yogurt from the fridge, yanked the plastic lid off, and dipped a spoon right into the container.
Maddie hijacked the container and scooped a mouthful. “And I’ll always love him. Leaving someone doesn’t stop you from loving them.”
“Even if he’s married and a father-to-be? First Courtney, now Peter.”
Maddie glared at me. “Courtney doesn’t count—she and Kit have an arrangement.”
“Are you still seeing her?”
“Not often. Only when one of us gets lonely and we can find the time.”
“And Peter? Does he have an arrangement with Tie? Or were you getting even with her?”
“Lizzie!” Sarah stretched a finger toward the deck, implying she wanted a word in private.
Outside, she tapped her slippered foot on the deck. “What’s wrong with you? Interrogating Maddie?”
“I’m only trying to find out what happened last night.”
“Why do you care so much?”
“Why don’t you? They slept together—in our home.”
“What bothers you more? That they slept together? Or that they did it in our home?”
I rolled back on my feet. “Aha! So you agree they did the deed.” I cringed and glanced up at the guest bedroom window, which was open an inch at the bottom. A slight breeze ruffled the curtain and sucked it briefly outside.
“What happened or didn’t happen is none of our concern.”
“Has everyone gone insane?” I tossed a hand in the air. “Is it perfectly normal for everyone associated with the Petrie family to hop in and out of people’s beds, no matter who gets hurt?”
“You’ve known for years that Peter’s a cheater.”
“Exactly! And it was Maddie who told me, right before she ditched him at the altar because he cheated. Now she’s doing it to Tie—”
Sarah gripped my shoulders. “Stop it. This has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
“Nothing to do with me? He’s my brother. And she’s our best friend, who agreed to take care of our children if anything happens to us. What kind of example would she set for the twins? You can’t tell me this isn’t a sticky situation. What was Maddie thinking?”
Sarah chewed on her lower lip. “I don’t know… I re
ally don’t. But—”
“But what?”
Sarah was speechless.
Gandhi wandered into our fenceless backyard and took a crap on the lawn. In his mouth was a squeaky toy in the shape of a newspaper—part of the apology gift basket.
“I just don’t get it. If Peter and Maddie still have feelings for each other, why don’t they—?” Sarah stopped abruptly, lost in thought. Perhaps the mere suggestion of divorce made her squirm. “Maybe Peter doesn’t want to admit marrying Tie was a colossal mistake, considering she was the cause of Maddie leaving him.”
Knowing my big shot brother, that made sense, but the cost—was it worth it?
“Maybe you should go for a bike ride. Let me talk to Maddie. It’s probably best if you don’t see Peter right now.”
“This is the perfect example of why I stayed away from anyone with the last name of Petrie—they give me a headache!”
***
Two hours later, when I returned, Peter’s and Maddie’s cars were nowhere to be seen. I punched in the garage door code and waited while the door creaked upward. The SUV was gone as well.
Inside, everything was quiet. Sarah had left a note that she and the twins were visiting Rose.
As I rummaged in the pantry for food, my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. Dad’s number flashed across the screen. “Hello,” I said quietly, even though there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d wake the twins, who were blocks away at Grandma’s house.
“Lizzie. How are you?”
I stood in the middle of the kitchen, the phone jammed to my ear, not hearing another human being. After weeks of continuous crying, squawking, giggling, and cooing, the silence was off-putting. “I’m good. You?”
“I think we need to talk.”
“Um, okay.”
“I know you have your hands full.”
Did he have his suspicions about Peter and Maddie, or did he just mean the twins?
“Can you make a late lunch today?”
I nodded needlessly. My father was intelligent, but he didn’t have superpowers that allowed him to see my head nodding through telephone wires. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll work.”
“Great. Half past two at Three Amigos?”
“See ya there.”
We hung up.
How in the world did my father so casually know the name of any restaurant in Fort Collins? I remembered Helen saying her florist shop was here in town.
A Family Woman Page 20