The Lake

by Grant, AnnaLisa

  “There’s no need for the formalities anymore, Will. You can call me Luke. We’re allies with the same purpose. We both love Layla and will do whatever we have to do to protect her,” Luke says.

  We let out a collective sigh and walk out the door.

  I ride with Luke and Claire just to be on the safe side. When we pull up to the house I see where the inspiration for the Heyward Prep building came from. The Meyer’s home is a small scale of the White House. Tall pillars flank the steps, and the black shutters pop against the bright white exterior. Will opens the front door of his house for us, but before he does, he gives me one long, hopeful look.

  We walk into the foyer and I’m speechless. It is just as majestic as I imagined it would be. The floor and stairs are vanilla colored marble, and there are two large pillars of the same material on either side of the doorway. The dual staircase curves around to meet at an adjoining center of the exposed hallway on the second floor. Champagne floral curtains swag from all the windows. The house oozes elegance.

  Will leads us to the back of the house where the formal living room is next to the dining room. The cherry wood table is set with what I’m certain is fine china and enough forks and spoons to make my head spin. Test number one will surely be seeing if I pick the right fork for my salad. There are wonderful smells coming from the kitchen that make my mouth water. I forget for a moment that the purpose of me being here is not to enjoy a delicious meal, but to be cross-examined by the winningest attorney in the state.

  I’m brought back to reality when Mr. and Mrs. Meyer enter the living room, greeting us with subtle cheers. My body stiffens and I desperately wish I could hold onto Will for stability. Claire is right next to me and steadies me as I side step to maintain my balance.

  “Oh, good, you’re here. Welcome! We’re sorry for the short notice, but so glad you could join us,” Will’s mother says in her overly rehearsed speech. “Gregory just insisted that we have you for dinner tonight.” She is a beautiful woman. Her dark auburn hair is pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck and I can’t remember if it is long or short. She wears black pants and a silver flowing top. She is stunning, everything her husband requires her to be.

  “Don’t crowd them Eliana. Give our guests some room.” Mr. Meyer makes his way to toward us and shakes Luke’s hand in greeting. With that formality over, he addresses me. “Hello, again, Layla. We’re so happy you could come tonight. We didn’t get a chance to chat at the bar-b-q, but we’re very interested in getting to know you.” He smells like leather and cigarettes. I choke a little at the aroma. I hadn’t noticed the pungent odor at the bar-b-q so I’m a little taken off guard. I shake his hand politely, but he holds it longer than necessary, along with the gaze he has on my eyes. I’d say he makes me uncomfortable, but that would be an understatement. He absolutely makes my skin crawl.

  He makes me nervous, but I’m not going to show it. I’m not a witness to be cross-examined so I pull myself to a self-assured posture and smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Meyer. Thank you so much for your invitation. I’ve heard so much about you from Will and my aunt and uncle,” I say with as much confidence as I can portray. “I’m equally as interested in getting to know you, too.” Will shoots me a look like I’m saying too much. I make a mental note to stop trying so hard and hope that I can follow through.

  We sit down to dinner, Claire and I on one side, Luke and Will on the other, and Mr. and Mrs. Meyer at the heads. Our hosts make small talk with all of us through the first and second courses, and Luke and Mr. Meyer talk vaguely about a case for a few minutes. I do my best not to look at Will too many times. I compliment Mrs. Meyer on the menu and ask her all sorts of questions about the meal. While she didn’t prepare the meal herself, she shares that she loves to cook and wishes she could do so more often. She oversees everything in the kitchen, so she keeps her hand in the pot a little.

  Dessert is about to be served when Mr. Meyer makes us wait no more for his true intentions to manifest and begins his questioning.

  “So, Layla, William says you two have become great friends. Exactly how great of friends are you?” Here it is. It’s not the subtle approach we thought it would be. In fact, it’s downright blatant. I’m immediately struck by Mr. Meyer using the exact same phrasing that Marcus used when he cautioned me in my friendship with Will.

  “Dad,” Will begins, but he’s cut off quickly by his father.

  “Now, William, I’m just asking her a question. You’ve been spending a lot of time at the Weston home. I think I have a right to know what this young lady’s intentions are.” His tone is smooth, but not at all calming the way Will’s is. It’s cunning, creepy, and manipulative. He makes it sound like he’s asking simple questions, but in reality a plan is forming with each question he poses.

  “Dad!” Will raises his voice to his father, which gains the man’s attention. It’s clear that Will has never done this before by the look Mr. Meyer gives him. “Dad,” he says in a more suitable tone. “I already told you that Layla and I are friends. What more is there to know?” Will says in our defense. I’m afraid he’s doing more harm than good by being so passionate in his defense, but since his father has decided on a cannon ball approach, what choice does he have?

  “I don’t see the harm in the kids being friends, Greg. Layla’s new here and Will’s done a great job at introducing her to his friends, helping her get settled,” Luke says, working to diffuse the situation and focus on Will’s efforts to get me connected. Luke’s speech is slow, concentrated, and deliberate. He knows exactly how to speak to the Gregory Meyer.

  “I don’t mind them being friends, Luke, if that were all there was to it.” Mr. Meyer locks his gaze on me and I feel a shiver run down my spine. “And that’s exactly what I need to determine.”

  “It’s ok, Will, Uncle Luke. I understand. If I had a son like Will I’d want to make sure that every aspect of his life was on track,” I say calmly and slowly while I try to formulate a plan of what to do next. I only know that my one and only goal is to diffuse Mr. Meyer’s passive-aggressive assault, and make him believe that Will and I are not in love. “Will’s right, Mr. Meyer, we’ve become great friends. When he comes to work at the house he eats lunch with Claire and me so we’ve had a chance to talk a lot. He’s been great to fill me in on the ins and outs of Heyward so I don’t get lost in the shuffle. He introduced me to Chris, Tyler, Gwen and Caroline, so I’ve made some new friends through him. It’s been great getting to know Will and I’ve really enjoyed spending time with him.” I take a slow, deep breath. “Will is really wonderful…” I say, pausing as my mind races through scenarios, none of which seem plausible. Then it hits me. I know what to say. I look at Will and see his eyes get big and his anxiety level rises. “…but I’m actually sort of seeing someone.”

  “Really?” Mr. Meyer says skeptically. “Who might the lucky young man be?” He’s not moving an inch from his position or believing me for one second. Who? He wants to know who? What difference does it make? C’mon, Layla! You can do this! I scream to myself. Then it hits me. It’s the lesser of two evils but it’s the only thing I can think of.

  “He’s actually my trigonometry tutor. I’ve already been meeting with him and…well, we’ve really hit it off.” I smile, saying the last part with a tone to hopefully indicate that there is a spark of romance there.

  “That’s too bad for Will, but it sounds like it is good news for this fellow.” Mr. Meyer softens his posture and takes the last swallow of his wine in one gulp. “Does this tutor of yours have a name?”

  I see the blood drain from Will’s face as he puts it together. Of all the people I could have named! I look at Will apologetically and hope the next words out of my mouth won’t be the nail in anyone’s coffin. “Yes, sir. His name is Marcus Reynolds.” I wait.

  Mr. Meyer is silent and considers our conversation. He motions to the server for more wine before he speaks. “The Reynolds’ are a fine family. You’ll fit in p
erfectly with them.”

  That’s it. The judgment has been passed. I’m a “them” and not an “us.” I’ve officially been rejected by association, not that I would have been accepted in any way. But…he seems to believe me, which means no dodging bribes or worrying about financial ruin for Luke and Claire. Will and I will be able to spend the next several months doing our best to enjoy being together while avoiding being caught.

  Mr. Meyer eyes me a few times, but doesn’t say anything else to me during the rest of our meal. He doesn’t even look at Will, but that doesn’t seem strange. He barely let Will speak tonight, which only added to my Things That Make Me Hate Gregory Meyer list.

  Mrs. Meyer tries to engage me in more friendly conversation about my cooking prowess but I’m not very talkative now. I answer in short, polite sentences. Mr. and Mrs. Meyer walk us to the door after dessert and coffee, and Will walks us out to the car. I’m insanely nervous to hear what Will’s take on the evening is. I think we are all in shock at Mr. Meyer’s approach. It was the complete opposite any of us were expecting.

  “Well that was interesting,” Will says. Not exactly the response I was expecting. He’s lost in his thoughts, looking in my direction, but not at me.

  “Interesting, how?” I ask curiously.

  “Marcus? Really?” He’s upset and staring at me now. I didn’t mean to hurt him but have done just that.

  “Did you want me to tell him the truth? Will, c’mon, I wasn’t expecting him to ask me so point blank like that,” I say in my defense. “What happened to ‘he’s going to question you and you won’t even know it’?”

  “Playing the Marcus card was risky, Layla. It could have ended badly. He could have looked at you and seen Holly.” Will’s anxiety is higher than it was earlier when he blurted out his love for me and all I can think is that I’m the one who did more harm than good.

  “Maybe he didn’t,” I say, trying to convince both of us that my improvisation worked.

  “All in all I think it went well. Claire and I have Marcus to use in any conversation where it might look like Gregory is suspicious. Layla, you’ll need to fill Marcus in soon, but we still need to be careful,” Luke says stepping in.

  Luke and Claire get in the car while I say good-bye to Will. We’re standing on the driver’s side, shielded from view. Will hugs me but is still distant in thought.

  “Will, everything is ok. He thinks I’m with Marcus,” I say. I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince more.

  “Maybe. Something just doesn’t feel right, though,” Will says slowly. “He dropped it too easily. He didn’t ask for any proof. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

  Will kisses me quickly, puts me in the car and shuts the door. As we drive away I watch Will stand in the driveway, still contemplating the night. I hope he’s wrong. I hope that I’ve been convincing enough. In order to make this work, I’m going to have to break my deal with Marcus.

  Chapter 16

  I’ve spent all morning attempting to coordinate clothes for school. I have every piece of wardrobe a person could need, but nothing looks right. It doesn’t help that I’m distracted thinking about the evening at the Meyer’s. I replay everything from which fork I used for what to my interrogation. Then all I can think is that I’m not going to school with normal people anymore. I’m going to school with the law firm of Meyer, Fincher and Marks. Every shirt or pair of shorts I try on makes me look and feel completely inadequate. I’ve tried to make it work but it’s just not happening. I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to ask Claire to take me shopping. I hate even more that I feel like I’m compromising myself. Since when do I care what other people think of my style, or lack thereof? But, lately I’m caring about a lot of things I never have before.

  When I ask Claire if she’ll take me shopping, I swear she lets out a little squeal. She doesn’t waste any time and grabs her keys. I barely have time to put my shoes on before she’s hustling me out the door and she’s is absolutely giddy the entire time it takes us to get to the mall. She takes me to a different outdoor mall than our first shopping excursion. Doesn’t this place have any traditional indoor malls where old people walk for exercise?

  When we get there I immediately recognize several of the stores, which puts me at ease. I can shop without worry because I know there won’t be any $250 shirts at Old Navy. We shop and try on clothes for hours. I’m learning to enjoy this time with Claire. It’s becoming almost effortless, and shopping with her is actually pretty fun. I remember this part of what having a mother is like and I realize how much I have missed it. My heart is full of joy and gratitude that Claire didn’t give up on me during my season of sequestering when I arrived here.

  We go from store to store, trying on shoes and clothes, with Claire making me promise to try on things I wouldn’t normally. Her theory proves correct when I end up loving most of the things I hated on the hanger. By the time we’re done I have six new pairs of shorts, four dresses, three pairs of jeans, and ten tops. I lost count of everything Claire got. It was a shopping frenzy and she loved every minute of it.

  It’s Sunday, but Luke is working from home to wrap some things up before a heavy work week, so Claire decides that she and I get a break from cooking and we go out for dinner. As we sit there discussing our victorious shopping conquest, I can’t keep my mind from going back to our dinner with Will’s parents. Even though I don’t believe Will could ever be like his father, I also can’t help but consider Luke’s warnings.

  “I have a confession to make,” I say to Claire. “The morning after my date with Will, I overheard you and Luke in the kitchen.”

  “Oh?” she replies.

  “I’m really sorry that I listened. I didn’t plan on it. I just heard Luke talking when I came to the door, but I should have backed away.” I feel badly and I want her to know that I don’t normally do that sort of thing. I suppose I don’t feel badly enough to confess to overhearing their exchange the night I arrived in Davidson. I’m causing such a mess right now, I don’t want to remind her of the uncertainty she had about me living with them.

  “It’s alright, Layla. So you heard Luke’s concerns…,” she says, trailing off at the end inviting me to fill in the blanks.

  “Yes, and I appreciate them. Really, I do. I just…” I’m not sure where to take this conversation now that I’ve started it. I don’t want to freak Claire out and tell her about the beating I saw outside the firm, not that she’s unaware of Mr. Meyer’s dealings. I decide to do a little fishing and let her do the filling in. “What is it about Gregory Meyer that has both Luke and Will trying to keep me away from him? Besides, I thought I handled myself pretty well the other night,” I say.

  “First, to be clear, it’s the other way around. We’re trying to keep him away from you. But…it’s hard to explain. I’m not really sure how much I should tell you,” she says.

  “Please, Aunt Claire?” I softly plead.

  Claire breathes a heavy sign and relinquishes what she knows. “I’m sure you noticed that Gregory’s wife, Will’s mother, is much younger than him,” Claire says. I nod, remembering my judgment of her and how badly I felt. “Well, Eliana is Gregory’s fourth wife.”

  My jaw drops. I’ve never known anyone who had been married that many times. I had a few friends back in Florida whose parents were divorced and remarried, but that’s almost expected these days. But married four times? Wow!

  “The first three Mrs. Meyers lasted four, three, and then two years when they were swiftly divorced with a small settlement as agreed to in their pre-nup. Then they vanished. No one has seen or heard from them since. Eliana and Gregory had been married a year when she got pregnant with Will. Apparently she was about to get her walking papers, too, but Gregory decided to keep her around because he thought the baby would soften his image. The sad part is the rumor at one point was that wife number three was pregnant but Gregory didn’t know.”

  “Why did he divorce them?” I ask, still in shock.


  “They wanted him to be a husband. You know, surprise lunches on a Wednesday, weekend getaways, flowers and romance, conversation, relationship. That’s more than what Gregory Meyer wants. He wants to do his job, make a ludicrous amount of money, and come home to a trophy wife who shopped, played tennis, and had martinis with her girlfriends in the middle of the day. When important events come around, he wants to waltz in with her on his arm for photo-ops.” Claire’s speech is filled with disgust. I can see why she appreciates Luke the way she does. He’s nothing like that.

  “Will said that this trophy wife is what his mom had become. She wasn’t always the Eliana Meyer?” I ask.

  “No, not at all. She was probably the most down to earth, real one of them all…and the most beautiful. Even after Will was born she bucked Greg’s system for a long time, but eventually gave in when he threatened to take Will from her,” Claire says speaking in a hushed tone.

  “So Will’s dad really just kept her around because of him? And he kept Will around because he thought it would be good PR?” I’ve transitioned from shock to disgust.

  “Yes, and I think Will knows the whole story, which is why he works so hard to not be like his dad. It’s one of the reasons Luke and I like him so much. Will loves his mom a lot and would do anything for her. I think it makes him sad to know that she compromised herself for him.” Claire’s tone is sad and filled with compassion for Will.

  My discussion with Will on the patio after the bar-b-q is making more sense, but there are still some gaps. Had I not witnessed an instance of what Gregory Meyer will do to prove a point, the main gap might be why they haven’t pried themselves free from underneath his thumb. I have a feeling there are gaps I’m not even aware of yet. My initial instinct is to want to try and reason with Mr. Meyer, but I quickly nix that as an option as I realize that both Luke and Will are proficiently reasonable people and still can’t seem to do it.