Newport Beginnings

by Cindy Nichols

  "Well, they serve cocktails. In the daytime. At noon."

  "I'm sure they weren't the only ones," Mrs. Russo added. "Anyway, I do know it was one of your grandmother's favorite clubs. So thanks for being willing to donate."

  "Sure," Jen said. "But if you guys want any of this stuff beforehand, just let me know."

  Faith came out of the bathroom and everybody gasped. She looked stunning—her dark hair really stood out against the soft color.

  "Oh my gosh, that looks perfect on you," Carrie gushed.

  And she was right. Jen zipped up the back of the dress and turned Faith around in front of the mirror. Their eyes met, and Jen smiled when Faith's eyes grew wide. Since her divorce, Faith had worn mostly jeans and t-shirts—and little fancier ones for teaching, but jeans and t-shirts nonetheless. It was nice to see her in a fancy dress, as she was beautiful.

  "It sure does," Mrs. Russo added. "These clothes are perfect for you girls."

  "They really are fun to wear. The ladies at the village will have a blast in them."

  "Uh, well, that's the thing." Mrs. Russo looked down and ran the hem of one of the dresses between her fingers.

  "What's the thing?" Carrie asked.

  Mrs. Russo looked at all the women in turn and then back down at the dress. "I knew these would look great on you guys. And Phyllis said that nobody at the village wanted to model. They were more anxious to sit in the audience, have a good lunch and bid on the clothes."

  Jen leaned against the dresser, her arms folded as she looked at Mrs. Russo and smiled.

  The older woman looked like she was about to confess that she’d taken the last cookie out of the cookie jar. "I may have told my friend Phyllis that we would model."

  "We? We who?" Faith asked as she smoothed the satin of her dress.

  "All of us," Mrs. Russo said, looking around the room.

  They all exchanged glances, and Jen noticed that everyone was smiling—except Mrs. Grover.

  Her hand tightened on the top button of her cardigan. "I couldn't possibly."

  "That's fine, Caroline, although I think it would be good for you." Mrs. Russo turned to Jen. "What do you guys say? You in for a little fun? Free lunch, raising money for a good cause?"

  "When is it?" Faith asked as she wriggled out of the gorgeous dress.

  "Not for three weeks. We have plenty of time to see who should wear what."

  Jen shrugged. "I'm in. That'll give me time to go through the rest of the closets in the house, see what's what. And if it was Nana's favorite bridge club, it's perfect."

  "I guess it's okay with me," Carrie said. "Bethany's here, but all she does is go to school, play tennis tournaments and do her homework. She won't even know if I'm gone."

  "Aw, that's sad. You guys really haven't had a chance to talk or anything?" Jen asked.

  "Nope. She has been eating, though. Your lasagna got her started, and she did ask me to thank you for all the food."

  "Oh, that's good. Sounds like a typical teenager to me," Jen said, but she caught the wistful look on Carrie's face. She knew Carrie would like more, but at least nothing bad was going on. At the moment.

  "Great," Mrs. Russo said when everybody—except Mrs. Grover—had agreed to participate. She picked up the gorgeous little black dress and held it up again. "Now all we need to do is find somebody who can fit in this smaller stuff. I don't think anybody would want to see me in it. Might blind somebody."

  Twenty-Eight

  Carrie waved as Armand closed the door behind Bethany and hopped in the driver's seat. He seemed like a nice man, and Carrie had learned a little bit more over the past week. He'd picked up Bethany every day for school, and each time he'd brought her a Starbuck's green tea.

  One morning while he was waiting, she invited him in and they sat at the island waiting for Bethany. He'd told her that Bethany liked it with honey and lemon, and that she usually made her own with the Keurig in the kitchen. But since she didn't have that, he'd picked one up for her every day.

  Carrie ordered one of the machines that very day, with the cups that went with it—green tea for Bethany and coffee for herself, and some hot chocolate—and it should be arriving later that afternoon.

  Beyond that, they'd pretty much fended for themselves. Bethany had a tennis tournament, and Carrie had asked if she could come watch. Bethany had hesitated for a moment, but had said no, she'd prefer if Carrie didn't. Carrie did her best to hide her disappointment, but didn't want to push.

  Dirk called right after Bethany left, and Carrie couldn't hide her disappointment any longer. "I keep asking her if she needs help, if I can come watch tennis, but she just says no. I don't really know what to do."

  Dirk sighed. "I know what you mean. It's taken a lot to get Abby to let me come watch. And even then, it's only sometimes."

  "I don't get it. Why wouldn't they want us to come?"

  Dirk laughed. "I've come to realize that it's about their wanting to be—well, autonomous, I guess. They have their own world, their own friends. At this age, they're flexing all those muscles. At least she lets me come sometimes. Maybe Bethany will, too."

  Carrie realized she was stirring the sugar in the sugar bowl and set the spoon down. "I don't know. She really doesn't want to have anything to do with me. She doesn't seem angry, exactly, just really—guarded, I guess."

  "Ah, another classic trait of the teenage species," Dirk said with a laugh. "And we're not the first or the last parents to be frustrated by it, I'm sure. Just give it time."

  Carrie smiled. Dirk always made her feel like everything was going to be all right, and she really liked that about him.

  "Hey, even if we can't go to the tennis tournament, we can hit some balls around. We said we were going to. I have the day off. How about today?"

  Carrie stood and stretched. "I haven't played in years, but I did find my racket when Jen and I were cleaning out the guest room. Sure, that sounds great." She hadn't exercised in a while, either, and it might be good to change that.

  "Fantastic. I'm a member at the club by the harbor. How about if I reserve a court at eleven? We can hit a little bit and go to lunch afterward."

  "Perfect. I'll meet you there," Carrie said.

  She straightened up the house and called Jen in the meantime.

  "That sounds fun. You love tennis."

  "I do," Carrie responded. "I don't think I can play very well, though. Been a long time."

  "You're a natural. Remember, you taught Bethany and she's doing great. A champion."

  Carrie glanced over at the box on top of the fridge. She'd kept every newspaper article about Bethany's wins—and losses—over the years, every interview, every award. "Well, she's a lot younger. Wish me luck."

  "Better yet, break a leg. Oh no, wait. The opposite," Jen said with a laugh before they ended the call.

  Carrie sifted through her tennis outfits and chose her favorite, a short lime-green skirt and matching top. Nobody had been happier than she was when tennis whites didn't matter anymore and tennis attire became much more interesting.

  She reached for her rackets and her backpack that held her tennis balls and a bottle of water and headed out the door.

  When she got to the club, she spotted Dirk immediately. She cocked her head and looked a little closer. He was tall and very handsome, if she was honest. He was warming up against a backboard, and she noticed that his swing was clean and strong. He'd probably give her a run for her money.

  She wasn't sure if he'd noticed that she'd arrived, as he was pretty intent on practicing his serve. But as she walked up, he said, "Gosh. I've been looking out for you, but I couldn't have missed you, I see. Could see you coming from a mile away. That's definitely a tennis power outfit."

  She smiled, and imagined that he was referring to her lime-green visor that matched her outfit. It was a little bright.

  "Well, good. All the better to beat you, sir."

  "Ah, them's fighting words," Dirk said as he picked up his bucket of tennis ball
s and guided her toward the court he'd reserved.

  They played for a couple of hours, and Carrie was pleased that everything came back to her, just like riding a bike. She and Dirk were pretty evenly matched, and they ended up playing two sets, tying at one each.

  She happily followed him to the restaurant he'd suggested—Woody's Wharf. It was one of the older restaurants in Newport and one of her favorites.

  Over his burger and her mahi-mahi sandwich, they laughed about the match, shared about the kids and Dirk again told her to just be patient.

  "You know, if you let her have her space, it'll go easier on you. Maybe by the end of her time, we can get the girls to play us in doubles."

  "Oh wow. That'd be so fun. I don't have much hope of that, though. She'll barely speak to me, let alone agree to something like that."

  Dirk's eyes twinkled. "Stranger things have happened. Let's keep practicing, though, just in case."

  Carrie laughed and got that feeling again. Dirk made her feel safe, and hopeful. She didn't want to get too confident, but maybe he was right. She crossed her fingers under the table, just for good measure.

  Twenty-Nine

  Carrie closed the door slowly behind her. None of her crossed fingers or hopefulness in her heart had prepared her for Bethany's flat-out refusal to go with her to Jen's for Sunday barbecue.

  She'd just ignored the silence all week. She'd kept a smile on her face. She'd made sure Bethany had everything she needed. But she really didn't think that Bethany wouldn't want to see Jen and Faith—and even Maggy. But when Carrie had told her she'd be heading over to Jen's beach house at five, and she hoped Bethany would come along, Bethany had just shaken her head.

  "Thank Jen for me, but no. I have things I need to do."

  She'd just come home from her tennis tournament and needed a shower. Carrie could understand that. But to not come and say hello—these were her lifelong friends as well, after all—was more than Carrie could understand.

  "Are you sure? They miss you. They love you, just like I do," had been on the tip of Carrie's tongue, but Jen and Dirk's words rang in her ears. “Just give her time, and space.”

  But it really stung. One week of the four was gone, and at the current pace, by the time Bethany went back with Rob and Cassidy, they would have spoken less than a hundred words between them.

  She slung the bag with wine and cheese over her shoulder and set out toward Jen's. She would have stayed home if she'd thought Bethany would do something with her. Or talk to her. Or anything at all. But based on the last week, she'd be in her room with the door closed, coming out only to eat. So Carrie figured she might as well go see her friends. And she was sure Jen was counting on her to barbecue something. At least she was wanted somewhere.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she groaned when she saw the caller ID. Her mother was the last person in the world she wanted to talk to. They hadn't spoken since the debacle at the fundraiser, and that had been weeks ago, now.

  But she knew from experience that when her mother did start calling, she was relentless.

  It was a beautiful evening—the seagulls soared over the beach and the light glinted on the waves as the sun began its descent toward the horizon. As the warm breeze brushed against her cheeks, she decided now was as good a time as any to answer. "Hello, Mother," she said as she walked along the boardwalk.

  "Hello, Carrie. How are you?"

  Thousands of legitimate angry responses flitted through Carrie's head, but she settled on the usual one.

  "Fine. How are you?"

  "Just fine, dear. I'll get right to the point. I hear you're involved in another fundraiser, one for the Back Bay Village."

  Carrie started to wonder how her mother had heard about that, but then remembered that her mother knew everything that happened in Newport. Especially when it came to fundraisers.

  "Not really. Just modeling in a fashion show. Helping out Mrs. Russo."

  "Oh, so Gina Russo has a hand in this."

  Carrie frowned. "A hand in it? It's just a fundraiser. It was Jen's grandmother's favorite bridge club. We're just helping out."

  "Hm. Well, I've played bridge there also and I'd like to come. Send me a ticket, please."

  Carrie stopped in her tracks. It was one thing that her mother hadn't even apologized about inviting Rob and Cassidy to the fundraiser that she and Dirk put together. It was quite another for her to come to another one and attempt to ruin that one, too.

  "No, Mother. I don't want you to come. This is Mrs. Russo's and her friends' show. I'm just helping out on the side."

  "All the more reason you shouldn't mind if I come. I can bring friends who would be happy to donate."

  "No. Thank you, but no."

  Her mother paused on the line. "You're not still annoyed about Rob and Cassidy at the hospital fundraiser, are you? He insisted, you know. They are big donors. How could I possibly refuse?"

  All of the things Carrie wanted to say ran through her head. "You should have known it would be hard for me. You should have asked me first. You should never have considered it in the first place. And once again, your image was more important than your daughter's feelings."

  But she said none of those things. "Please just respect my wishes. For once."

  Her mother sputtered something in response, but Carrie just ended the call and dropped her phone back in her pocket. It vibrated again immediately, but instead of answering, she turned it off.

  "Who was that?" Jen asked as she passed through the gate and gave Daisy a pat on the head.

  "My mom. She wants to come to the fundraiser at the village. I told her no."

  "You did?" Jen said, her eyebrows raised.

  "I did. Maybe it'll work."

  Faith didn't look too convinced. "Maybe. But at least you said it."

  Carrie reached for the bottle of wine and handed it to Faith. "Yeah. For what it's worth."

  "Where's Bethany? Maggy will be here any minute," Faith said as she began to open the wine.

  Carrie plopped down on one of the deck chairs. "Oof. She's not coming."

  "Oh no," Faith said with a frown. "We were all so excited to see her."

  "I know. I was excited, too, to have more than five words pass between us in a week. She said she's tired and has homework. What she's been saying for a week."

  Faith and Jen looked as sad as Carrie felt, but she had no idea what to do about it. Maybe all she was going to be able to do was keep Bethany alive, like Rob said, and that wasn't at all what she'd hoped for.

  "You all look awful. Who died?" Maggy, Faith's daughter, asked as she came through the gate and knelt down to pet Daisy.

  "Hi, honey. Carrie just said Bethany didn't want to come."

  Maggy looked equally disappointed. "Oh no. I really wanted to see her."

  "Same here," Carrie said, and Maggy looked at her for a moment then smiled.

  "I'll be right back," she said, handing her bag to her mother. She headed back through the gate and rounded the corner toward Carrie's house so quickly that nobody had a chance to say anything, but Carrie crossed her fingers again just for luck.

  Thirty

  The racks of ribs that Jen had put in the oven a couple of hours earlier smelled delicious, and she had been excited to surprise Bethany. They were one of Bethany’s favorites, or at least had been when she'd last seen her. But that had been over four years ago, and she was disappointed that she wouldn't have the chance to see her.

  She put the finishing touches on the homemade barbecue sauce for Carrie to brush on them when they went on the grill.

  Since Maggy left, they hadn't talked much—mostly had stared at the corner Maggy had disappeared around, waiting for her to come back.

  Faith finished her chip—Jen had made Bethany's favorite guacamole just for the occasion—and filled Carrie's wineglass.

  "What do you think's happening?" Carrie asked.

  Jen stepped back onto the deck, a platter of ribs and bowl of sauce in her hands.
<
br />   "No telling," she said quietly. She smiled at Carrie. "I'm sure everything's fine. You mind starting the ribs on the grill?"

  Carrie took another look toward the boardwalk and sighed. "Sure. No problem. They'll take a bit, though."

  "No problem. The coleslaw and corn on the cob are already done. Just have to do the garlic bread at the last minute. Make sure you give me a ten-minute heads-up."

  "Okay, sure." Carrie took the platter from Jen and headed toward the grill in back of the house.

  Jen sat down beside Faith and they exchanged a quick glance. "I sure wish I could help somehow," Jen said.

  "Same here, but maybe we'll get a chance after all." Faith stood and pointed toward the corner with a wide smile.

  "Oh, my gosh, she came," Jen exclaimed. They both rushed toward the gate and Daisy wagged her tail wildly, even though she didn't know why.

  "Carrie," Jen called as she hit the bottom step and held her arms wide toward Bethany. Maggy followed behind, a sly smile on her face.

  "We're so glad you're here, sweetheart," Jen said as she wrapped Bethany in her arms. She didn't want to overdo it, but she was just so happy to see her that she couldn't help herself.

  "Aw, so nice of you to come," Faith said as she got her turn for a hug.

  Bethany turned and smiled shyly at Maggy. "I wouldn't have, but I got to take a shower and Maggy came over. It's been a long time. It's really good to see you guys."

  Jen grabbed Bethany's hand and turned to pull her up the steps just as Carrie stepped out from the back. "Look who's here," she said to Carrie, but she narrowed her eyes in warning since Carrie wasn't smiling.

  "Awesome," Carrie said, and Jen was relieved that she broke into a smile.

  They settled into the deck chairs and started with the questions, as mothers do. "How's school? Any boyfriends? How's tennis season going?" Jen was a little disappointed when Bethany gave them pretty much one-word answers—until Carrie said she had to check on the ribs and disappeared into the back.

  Suddenly, Faith, Jen and Maggy heard about the tennis season, her grades, how she felt about Rob and Cassidy—Jen was not a bit surprised that it was very little—and even what colleges she wanted to apply to.