by Joy Fielding
“Excuse me,” Rain called, beckoning a young, dark-haired waiter toward them. “Who wants a gin and tonic?” she asked the others.
“Sounds good,” Peggy said.
“Count me in,” Becky agreed.
“I’ll have a Coke,” Caroline said.
“You will absolutely not have a Coke,” Rain said. “It’s our last day. I forbid it. Four gin and tonics, por favor. This one’s on me, ladies.”
Minutes later, they were leaning back in their chairs, sipping their drinks. “So, what’s everyone up to when we return to civilization?” Rain asked.
“Back to work,” Peggy said. Peggy worked at San Diego General Hospital.
“Don’t know how you do it,” Rain said. “Dealing with sick people all day. Doesn’t it get to you?”
“Well, I don’t actually deal with patients. I’m in administration.”
“What about you?” Rain asked, swiveling toward Becky. “Ready to resume the job hunt?”
Caroline held her breath as Becky’s shoulders stiffened. Steve had let slip that Becky had recently been fired from her job as an accounts manager for a local ad agency after a major client bolted to the competition, a fact that Becky had been hoping to keep under wraps until she found a new position. Of course, Caroline already knew about it; her mother had called with the news as soon as Steve confided it.
“This might be a good time to concentrate on getting pregnant,” Mary had told her daughter-in-law, as if the reason she and Steve hadn’t conceived was Becky’s lack of concentration.
“At least you don’t have to worry about money,” Rain said. “Jerrod tells me that Steve is doing verrrry well these days.”
“We’re managing,” Becky said. She downed what was left in her glass and signaled the waiter for a refill. “Who’s joining me?”
“I’m game,” Rain said.
“What the hell. Why not?” Peggy agreed.
“Only if it’s my turn to treat,” Caroline said, still nursing the drink in her hand. She’d never been much of a drinker, especially in the afternoon. Still, it was their last day in Rosarito, for once she didn’t have a child hanging on her arm or a baby balanced on her hip, and she didn’t want to be perceived as a stick-in-the-mud. She was still one of the girls. She still knew how to have fun.
She was more than just a mother.
“I guess it’s just more of the same for you,” Rain said to Caroline, as if she’d sneaked a peek into her brain.
“Sorry? More of the same?”
“Staying home, looking after two little kids. I’d go crazy with the lack of adult stimulation. It must turn your brain to mush. I think you’re amazing. I really do.”
Caroline tried not to bristle at the subtle insult embedded in the compliment or at having to defend her decision to be a stay-at-home mom. “It’s only for a few more years. Then I’ll go back to teaching.”
“Another job I could never do. Especially math. It’s so boring.”
“I don’t find it boring at all…”
“Really?” asked Rain, eyes wide with wonder.
“I guess everything must seem pretty dull when you compare it to modeling,” Peggy said, as the waiter returned with a fresh round of drinks. “Jerrod says you’re still in a fair bit of demand…”
“More than a fair bit. And I’m offered way more jobs than I’m able to accept because of all my charity work. Plus Jerrod travels so much, and he likes me to go with him, so I’m limited in what projects I can take on.” She leaned in, motioning with her hands for the others to do the same, as if she were about to impart a great secret. “We made a pact when we got married that we’d never spend more than two nights apart. That’s what put the kibosh on Jerrod’s first marriage, you know. Made him especially vulnerable to women like me.” She gave a smile that could only be described as dazzling. “My husband has an insatiable libido, and I’m happy to say he’s finally met his match.” She tossed her head back, her honey-blond hair cascading halfway down her back, then held that position, as if waiting for a photographer to snap her picture.
“I didn’t realize he had to travel that much,” Caroline said, although what she really wanted to say was “Oh, God, no. Please let’s not talk about that.” She didn’t want to discuss Rain’s sex life or her role in the dissolution of Jerrod’s previous marriage. She didn’t know much about either Rain or Jerrod other than that Jerrod was the lead director of a major mining corporation, and he and Hunter had become friendly when Hunter’s firm was hired to handle a recent acquisition. Rain was fun to be around, in large part because you never knew what outrageous thing she was going to say next, but she and Rain would never be bosom buddies. In Hunter’s words, “a little of her went a long way.”
“Every month we’re off somewhere new and exciting,” Rain was saying. “Alaska, Vancouver, South America. Visiting mines. Meeting with local dignitaries. These last five years have been quite the adventure.”
“No time for kids, I guess,” Peggy said.
“God, no. Besides, Jerrod already has three with his first wife. That’s more than enough.” She made a face. “I don’t know. Children have never been my thing. They’re just so…”
“Boring?” asked Caroline.
Rain laughed. “Kind of like math.”
“I don’t think children are boring,” Peggy said.
“That’s because you have them. You have to feel that way. But we know the truth, don’t we, Becky?”
Once again Caroline found herself holding her breath, understanding that Rain likely knew nothing of Becky’s situation. The two women had met only a week ago and Becky wasn’t in the habit of discussing her fertility problems with relative strangers. Or with anyone, for that matter.
Caroline looked toward her sister-in-law, who acknowledged her glance with a roll of her eyes before turning away. They’d been close once, more like sisters than sisters-in-law. But Becky, fueled by her mother-in-law’s constant comparisons, had grown increasingly distant over the years, more so after Samantha’s birth. She’d tried to hide it, but it was pretty obvious she regarded Caroline’s fecundity as something of a personal affront.
Caroline took another sip of her drink, leaned back in her chaise, and closed her eyes. She was exhausted. Who knew that relaxing could be such hard work?
“Time for more sunscreen,” a voice said. “Your nose is getting burned.”
Caroline opened her eyes to see Peggy’s face looming above hers. “What?”
“You’re getting a bit red.”
Caroline bolted upright, knocking her canvas bag off her chair, its contents spilling onto the concrete. “I must have fallen asleep. What time is it?”
“Five after four.”
“Shit. I was supposed to pick up Michelle at four.” She scrambled to retrieve the items that had escaped her bag, then pushed herself to her feet. “Where is everyone?” she asked, looking around.
“Becky had a headache, so she went back to her room about half an hour ago. Rain had an appointment for a massage.”
“Well, I hate to leave you here alone…”
“No problem. I’ve had enough lounging. Time to go upstairs and take a nap.” Peggy slipped her hand through Caroline’s and together they headed for the lobby.
“I can’t believe I passed out like that. Did I miss anything?”
“You mean with Little Miss Met-His-Match? No, thankfully she spared us further details. For a minute I thought we were back in high school.”
The two women laughed. Caroline was still chuckling when she picked up Michelle.
“You’re late,” the child cried, causing the chuckle to die in Caroline’s throat.
The raven-haired young woman holding Michelle’s hand shot Caroline an accusing glance. “See? I told you your mommy didn’t forget about you.”
Caroline checked her watch. “It’s only a few minutes…”
“Michelle was getting quite anxious.”
“I would never forget about you,”
Caroline assured her daughter repeatedly on the elevator ride back to their room.
“I’m not going to kids’ camp anymore,” Michelle said as they walked down the long hall toward their suite.
“Well, we’re leaving first thing in the morning, so you don’t have to.” Caroline fumbled in her canvas tote for her keycard, almost walking into a service cart loaded with towels and linen. “Shit. Where is it?”
“You said a bad word.”
The damn thing must have fallen out at the pool, Caroline thought as they approached their suite, then waited for Hunter to answer her knock on the door. “What—again?” she could almost hear him say. She’d already lost one keycard, earlier in the week. Good thing they were so easy to replace. She knocked again. “Hunter?” She rested her ear against the door, heard the shower running. “Great. Perfect time for a shower.” Hunter was notorious for both the frequency and the length of his showers. “Looks like we’ll have to go back to the lobby and get another card.”
“I don’t want to go back to the lobby.”
Caroline remembered the service cart. Probably the housekeeper had a master keycard. “Come with me,” she said to Michelle.
“No.” The child pulled her hand out of Caroline’s reach, then sank to the floor, her back against the door, her arms crossed in protest.
“Okay, then. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” She raced around the corner, almost colliding with the uniformed woman coming out of an adjacent room, her hands full of towels. “Perdóname, dama. I’m sorry to bother you but I can’t find my keycard. I was wondering if you could let me into my room.”
The woman nodded, dropped the towels onto the cart and followed Caroline around the corner.
Michelle was gone.
“Michelle?” Caroline looked around frantically. “Michelle?”
The door to her suite opened. Hunter stood before her, a large white towel wrapped around his hips, water clinging to his chiseled chest, a bemused look in his eyes. “Relax. She’s inside.”
Caroline breathed a sigh of relief. The housekeeper tucked her master keycard back into her pocket and retreated down the hall. “Thank you,” Caroline called after her.
“Mommy said a bad word. And she was late,” Michelle announced as soon as Caroline stepped inside the living room.
“By all of five minutes,” Caroline explained.
“I’m sure Mommy’s very sorry.”
“And Mommy has apologized repeatedly,” Caroline said. “Where’s the baby?”
“She’s not a baby,” Michelle said.
“In her crib, playing with her toys,” Hunter said. “Happy as a clam.”
“We went hunting for clams,” Michelle said as Caroline crossed into the children’s bedroom.
“Did you? That sounds like fun.”
“I hate clams,” Michelle said.
Of course you do, Caroline thought, approaching Samantha’s crib. Her younger daughter was already standing up, a huge grin on her sweet face, her arms extended in welcome. Caroline lifted her out of her crib, hugged her tight. “Hi, my sweet thing.”
“She’s not a sweet thing. I’m your sweet thing.”
“You’re both my sweet things.”
Samantha leaned her head against Caroline’s shoulder, her breath soft against her mother’s neck. At least I got one good one, Caroline recalled her mother saying to one of her friends, the words still having the power to wound after all these years. Not that her mother had been abusive or neglectful. If anything, she’d been overprotective, hovering over her daughter like a circling wasp, watching her like the proverbial hawk. Unlike Steve, who was granted freedoms Caroline could only dream of. But while she had her mother’s attention, it was Steve who had her affection, and both children knew it, ensuring that they would never be close. Caroline had made a silent vow that she would never be anything like her mother. She wouldn’t be overprotective. She wouldn’t be judgmental. She would never show favoritism.
As if to prove her point, she leaned over to ruffle Michelle’s hair. “I love you,” she told her.
“I don’t love you,” said Michelle, squirming out of her mother’s reach and running from the room.
“Well, that’s too bad, because I love you,” Caroline called after her.
“What’s too bad?” Hunter asked from the doorway.
Caroline lowered Samantha to the floor, then walked into his waiting arms. “I’m a terrible mother.”
He laughed and pulled her closer, the dampness of his bare chest permeating her white lace cover-up. “Next time we leave the kids at home.”
—
At eight o’clock, their sitter still hadn’t arrived.
“Where is she?” Caroline asked. “She’s been so prompt all week.”
“Relax. She’s probably in the elevator as we speak.”
Caroline stepped onto the balcony and stared down at the garden restaurant below. Almost all the tables were occupied. Colored lanterns flickered from overhead wires. Soft music played. A slight breeze stirred. Samantha and Michelle were both asleep. It was shaping up to be a perfect evening for this, their last night in paradise.
Except the sitter was late.
“Are the others there yet?” Hunter asked, coming up behind her, his arms snaking around her waist.
“I don’t see them. Oh, wait. There’s Rain.”
“What on earth is she wearing?”
“You mean, what isn’t she wearing?” Caroline corrected. “I think she forgot her top. Did you know her husband is quite the stud?”
“Really? She told you that?”
“I believe insatiable was the word she used.”
Hunter made a face. “Hard to picture.”
“Let’s not,” Caroline said, as Jerrod suddenly appeared beside his wife, the two of them looking up and waving. Caroline waved back, felt Hunter do the same. “Maybe we should call the front desk, find out what’s up.” She stayed on the balcony, watching Steve and Becky join Jerrod and Rain as Hunter went back to the living room to phone. “Well?” she asked upon his return.
“She’s not coming.”
“What do you mean, she’s not coming?”
“Apparently we canceled.”
“What? What are you talking about? We did no such thing.”
“I told them that. But that’s what their records indicate. They’re trying to find us someone else.”
“How long will that take?”
“They said it should only be a few minutes.”
Caroline shook her head in dismay, noting that Peggy and Fletcher had just arrived. As if on cue, everyone at the table turned toward them.
“We’ll be down soon,” Hunter called out, although Caroline doubted anyone could hear him over the music and chatter. The phone rang. “There you go. Problem solved.”
Except it wasn’t solved. The sitters registered on the hotel’s roster were all booked and the concierge was unable to find anyone else on such short notice, unless they were willing to wait until ten o’clock.
“So much for that.” Caroline slumped to the sofa, kicking off the recently purchased high heels that Peggy had christened Caroline’s “fuck me” shoes.
“No. We’re not going to let this ruin our anniversary dinner.”
“We can’t wait till ten o’clock.”
“We don’t have to,” Hunter said. “We’ll go, have dinner, come right back.”
“What are you talking about? We can’t leave the kids alone.”
“We’re not leaving them alone. We’ll be right downstairs. It’s just like at home, when the kids are in bed and we’re sitting in the backyard.”
“It’s not the same.”
“How is it different?”
“For one thing, this isn’t our backyard. If the kids were to wake up, if they started crying, we wouldn’t be able to hear them.”
“How many times did they wake up all week when the sitter was here?”
“That’s beside the point.”
“The sitter said they never woke up once.”
“This is the same sitter who claims we canceled?”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Hunter insisted.
“You go,” Caroline said.
“Without you?”
“Yes. You go. Bring me back something to eat.”
“This is our anniversary dinner, Caroline. I’m not going without you.”
“All right. How’s this? We call the restaurant and explain what happened, and tell everyone they can either join us up here for room service or come up later for dessert. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“I don’t understand. We’re not talking about leaving the grounds. We’re talking about going downstairs. For a couple of hours. You don’t think you’re being a little overprotective?”
“Overprotective?” Caroline pictured her mother lurking close by, waiting to pounce.
Hunter shrugged. “Forget it. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s disappointment talking, that’s all. It’s just that…well…I had something kind of special planned.”
“It can still be special,” Caroline protested weakly.
Hunter sank to the sofa beside her, took her hand in his. They were silent for several seconds. “Okay, listen. I have an idea.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “We go downstairs…”
“Hunter…”
“We go downstairs,” he repeated, a little louder the second time, “have dinner with our friends, and take turns checking on the girls every half hour. How’s that?”
Caroline’s head was spinning. She was horrified at his casual comparison to her mother, having spent her entire life determined to be anything but like her mother. And she didn’t want to disappoint him, especially when he’d gone out of his way to plan something special. The restaurant was literally right under their noses. They wouldn’t be gone long. “I don’t know…”
“You do know. We’ll be right downstairs, we’ll check on the kids every thirty minutes, they won’t even know we’re not here.”
“You promise everything will be all right?”
Hunter took her face between his hands and kissed her tenderly on the lips. “I promise,” he said.