Char’s face went pale, then flushed again. Her mouth twisted as tears filled her eyes.
“I hate you,” she breathed. “You ruined everything. I’m going to tell my dad what you did and he’s never going to see you again.”
“Very possibly,” Shannon murmured. “Very possibly.”
They drove back to Adam’s place without talking. The only noise was the car engine and Char’s choked sobs. When Shannon pulled into the driveway, Char bolted from the car and ran into the house. Shannon turned off the engine and rested her head on the steering wheel. She honestly didn’t see a good outcome in her future.
She’d just loaded up with the presents when Adam burst out of the house.
“What the hell happened?” he demanded. “Char’s shrieking that her party was ruined and that it’s your fault.”
“That’s not exactly how it went. There were a few bumps in the road.”
Adam expression hardened. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened. What did you say to upset her? Jesus, Shannon, it’s my daughter’s birthday. Why is she inside crying as if her heart is broken?”
She thrust the presents at him. “Well, for starters, she’s mad because she didn’t get her way. Oh, don’t get me wrong. She played me like a pro. I paid for the glitter package for the mani-pedis. But that wasn’t enough. She wanted to be the center of attention. Fine. It’s her birthday. But I refused to serve her pizza and there was some other stuff.”
He stared at her. “What are you talking about? This is because you didn’t want to hand a nine-year-old a slice of pizza?”
“No. Not exactly. It’s more than that. She was mean to some of her friends and—”
“She was mean to you? Shannon, she’s a kid. You’re the adult. Communication is your responsibility. I have to admit, I’m really disappointed by all of this. I thought it would go better. I thought I could trust you.”
She felt the jab all the way down to her heart. Talk about a perfectly placed blow. Because there was nothing she could say in return. He had a crying birthday girl in the house and his girlfriend on the outside. When push came to shove, she knew exactly where his loyalties would lie.
“You’re missing the point,” she told him.
“Am I? This is why I’m usually so careful about introducing my children to anyone I’m dating. You don’t have a family of your own, so you wouldn’t understand. But it sucks. She’s upset, I still don’t know what happened and I’ll be dealing with this all weekend. Then I have to explain to her mother how my girlfriend let this happen. All I wanted was to make sure my daughter had a good birthday.”
She glared at him. “What makes you think I wanted anything different? You weren’t there, Adam. Be careful with your accusations and assumptions. Because some things can’t be unsaid.”
He threw up his hands. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to go fix things with Char.”
He turned and walked back to the house. Shannon stood there and watched him go. She told herself to stay in the moment, to feel the feelings, to integrate that this was how it was going to be, should she and Adam stay together. That his children would always come first. That whatever the circumstances, they would be the ones he believed, while she was suspect.
She got in her car and told herself not to jump to conclusions. That he would figure out she wasn’t the bad guy. That he would be sorry and they would get through this.
As she drove away, she wondered how long it would take for him to realize that Char wasn’t the only person he had to fix things with. Or if he would realize it at all.
Twenty-Two
Pam sat at her small desk in the study and waited for her laptop to boot. She’d had a good night, sleeping for several hours in a row. This was the most rested she’d felt in weeks, which meant it was time to tackle one of the difficult tasks she’d been putting off: John’s email.
Ever thoughtful, he’d kept a list of user names and passwords in his desk drawer. They had been there in case she needed to access something while he was at work, but had turned out to be helpful after his death.
The paperwork and logistics that went with a spouse’s passing were ongoing and onerous. Steven and Jen had helped with some, but after the first couple of weeks, they’d returned to their lives. Pam had slowly been dealing with the rest.
There were bank accounts to change, investment accounts. Acquaintances to notify, subscriptions and memberships to cancel. Every time she turned around, there was something else she had to deal with. Some other forgotten element of his life that had to be tidied.
She carefully drew in a deep, calming breath before logging on to his email account, then shook her head when she saw well over a hundred emails waiting.
The spam was easy. She forwarded anything that needed answering to her own account. There were a few political notices, some ads from the car dealership he used and something from a cruise line.
Her gaze drifted to the subject line. She froze in her seat. Pain hit her hard, front and back, stealing her breath and making it impossible to fight back tears.
New information for Booking…
The actual number blurred, as did the email when she opened it. She sat there and let the tears flow down her cheeks.
The cruise. The cruise she and John had been so excited to go on. He’d made the reservations right after their sex-retreat weekend, when they were doing it like rabbits three times a day.
She covered her face with her hands. They’d talked about all the places they were going to have sex. How they would go visit the turtles in Grand Cayman and float down a river in Jamaica. They’d made plans and now he was gone.
Small paws touched her thigh. She looked down and saw Lulu standing on her back legs, looking up at Pam anxiously.
“I’m sorry, baby girl,” she said as she picked up her dog and cradled her. Lulu licked her cheek.
“I know it’s hard when I get like this,” Pam murmured. “You hate to see me so sad. It’s just I can’t help it. I miss your dad so much.”
Lulu’s ears perked up. She struggled to get down. When Pam set her on the carpet, the little dog raced toward the garage door, barking as she went.
Sobs ripped through Pam. She’d said “Dad.” Lulu thought John was finally coming home.
“He’s not,” she whispered, even though she knew Lulu couldn’t hear her. “He’s never coming home. We’re never going to see him again.”
She rested her elbows on the desk and covered her face with her hands again. This had to stop, she thought. She couldn’t keep doing this to herself. Suffering day after day. Everyone said things would get easier with time, but they weren’t. Everyone promised she would start to heal, but so far there had been nothing but the hell of knowing John was never coming home.
She dropped her hands to her lap and stared sightlessly at the computer screen. From deep in her chest came a primal scream of protest, and in the background, the steady beating of her heart.
Because while she might be falling apart emotionally, physically she was fine. She came from a long line of women who lived well into their eighties. She was facing the next thirty years without John and for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out the point of that.
Lulu returned to the study. Her fluffy head hung in defeat. Her tail was tucked between her legs. Pam picked her up and held on tight.
“I know,” she whispered. “It hurts so much.”
She wiped her face and turned back to the computer screen. Sh
e was going to have to call the cruise company and cancel. Or maybe find out if she could send Jen and Kirk. Although they were both working and saving any extra time off for after the baby was born. No, she would cancel. It wasn’t as if she was going to take a cruise by herself. That would be beyond depressing.
For a second she tried to imagine herself on the ship—a pathetic figure wandering aimlessly from place to place. She couldn’t do it. Certainly didn’t want to even try. The way she was feeling, she would end up throwing herself off the ship at some point.
Pam turned her attention back to the screen. There had to be a contact number somewhere. She started to scan the email, then realized what she’d thought just seconds before.
She could throw herself off the ship.
She set Lulu on the floor and placed her hands on the keyboard of her laptop. No, that was ridiculous. She wasn’t going to kill herself. It was wrong and selfish.
People fell off ships all the time. She was forever hearing about it on the news. Lost at sea.
No, she couldn’t do that to her children. Losing a parent unexpectedly was one thing, but to know that she had killed herself would be another. They would be devastated. They would think she didn’t love them. And she did. Desperately. It was just they didn’t understand how hard it was to be without John. They didn’t know about the empty nights, the life that stretched before her.
Still, they were her children and she loved them. She would never hurt them.
What if they thought it was an accident?
Pam turned that idea over in her head. If it was an accident, then they would miss her, but there wouldn’t be any sense of having been abandoned. Could she do that? Could she make them think she was fine and then simply jump off the ship?
She looked at the email again. In addition to the tickets, there was information on the itinerary and various shore excursions. She scanned the ports and saw that Friday was a day at sea.
The cruise started on Saturday. If she showed up at different activities, talking to people, pretended to be having a good time, no one would suspect. She could be memorable enough that when questioned, everyone would say she had been sad about her husband, but obviously healing. Then on Thursday night she would slip over the edge and never have to feel the loss of her husband again.
It was the perfect solution, she thought with more than a little surprise. And exactly what she needed to do.
She let the idea sit in her brain for a few seconds. There was no horror, no revulsion. Only a sense of rightness. She couldn’t live without him, so she wouldn’t.
She printed out the tickets. While the printer hummed away, she used the hotlink in the email to go look at the various excursions. It only took a few minutes to find the ones she wanted.
Her goal was to be visible and make friends. For the day in Jamaica she booked the Shaw Park Gardens, Dunn’s River Falls and Beach trip. Her chest tightened a little when she went to look at trips in Grand Cayman. She’d wanted to see the turtle farm there for as long as she could remember. John had always teased her about it.
She squared her shoulders, then booked herself on the Turtle Farm, Hell, Tortuga Rum Cake and Scenic Drive tour. For the island of Cozumel, she chose the Tulum Mayan Ruins and Playa del Carmen trip.
Once it was all done, she printed out her confirmations, then turned off her computer and stood. Thousands of thoughts flitted in and out of her head. There was so much to do, she thought. She was filled with purpose in a way she hadn’t been for weeks. A thousand details to manage. She wanted to get everything completely in order, down to the tiniest detail. She had a plan and she was determined to see it through.
* * *
“Sorry,” Nicole said as she walked back in the living room. “I just wanted to make sure Tyler was asleep. Once he’s out, he’s gone until morning, but every now and then it can take him a bit to get to that point.”
Shannon nodded. “I’m sure me showing up like this didn’t help.”
“He adores you.” She sat across from her friend. “Want to talk about it?” she asked gently. It wasn’t that she minded the company. Having Shannon stop by was great. It was just the sadness she saw in her eyes, not to mention the grocery bag with about five different flavors of Ben & Jerry’s. There were a limited number of reasons for them to need that kind of emotional help.
Shannon pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins. “It’s Adam,” she admitted. “We had a huge fight. I’m angry, he’s angry. It was so awful.”
She tucked her long red hair behind her ear and pressed her lips together. “It’s the kid thing. Or rather the lack of kid thing. I don’t have children. I get that. But why did he assume the worst about me? I’m not a bad person. I wanted Char to have a good time. But would he listen? Of course not. He played the parent card.”
She held up one hand. “He’s the parent. I know that. And I get that being a parent means having responsibilities. But I would never hurt Char or Oliver. She was horrible and he didn’t want to listen. He simply assumed I’d done something awful and I was a bad person.” Shannon shook her head. “I’m not a bad person.”
Nicole did her best to sort through the information. “Okay, it would really help if I knew what happened with you and the kids. Was it Char’s birthday party?”
“Yes. It was nowhere near as cool as Tyler’s. Give me Brad the Dragon any day over a bunch of little girls at a spa.”
Shannon explained about the glitter add-on and how Char had been rude and imperious.
“I wanted her birthday to be special,” Shannon told her. “I wanted her to be happy and excited. But there was something else going on. It’s like she had something to prove.”
“Has she been like that before? Some kids are just obnoxious.”
“I know what you’re saying and I want to say that no, she’s been more difficult than Oliver, but not in a bad way. I think she’s really protective of her mom, and that’s admirable. She’s generally pleasant and normal. At the party, it’s like she was possessed by some evil narcissist.”
Shannon leaned her head against the back of the sofa. “I can’t get over what Adam said to me. That he was disappointed. It was like he was scolding me. I really didn’t like that at all. And why didn’t he want to talk to me about what happened?”
Nicole raised her eyebrows. “You still haven’t spoken to him?”
“No. I’m not calling and apparently he’s not calling, either. What do you think?”
“That you’re sweet and kind and he should find out the facts before assigning blame.” Nicole thought about the people she knew who were divorced. No one in their inner circle of friends, she thought. A couple of clients had been through it.
“Being a single parent has to be hard,” she admitted. “There’s guilt and stress. But he should know you well enough to confirm what happened. I could forgive being upset in the moment, but not letting it go on for several days.”
Shannon blinked several times, then stared at the ceiling, as if willing back tears. “Yeah,” she said after clearing her throat. “That’s what I thought, too. The longer I don’t hear from him, the worse I think it is between us. He was so angry and he didn’t want to hear my side. I love him, but I also know he’s wrong about this. He should have talked to me.”
Nicole thought maybe she was right. She couldn’t imagine someone else telling Tyler what to do. He was hers. Hers and Eric’s. But with Eric, it was differe
nt. As much as he was gone, she was confident he loved his son. But someone else in the mix would just be a mess.
“Dealing with stepkids can’t be easy,” Nicole admitted. “You get a lot of responsibility with little or no say in what happens. Talk about a minefield.”
“They’re not even my stepkids and I’m dealing with this,” Shannon said glumly. “I thought he was the one. I thought we were going to work it out. But now I just don’t know where we are. Does he even care that we’re not talking? Is it over?”
“You could call him,” Nicole said gently.
“And what should I say? Ask if he’s ready to apologize?”
Nicole didn’t have an answer. In her heart, she thought maybe reaching out was a good first step. Especially if Shannon wanted the relationship to work. But she got why her friend felt Adam should be the one to make the move. But if neither of them did anything, they would stay stuck.
Kind of like her and Eric. They were stuck—married but not actually a couple. Not for a long time now. The money problems had been solved, but nothing else was better. He was still gone a lot and moving in a direction that didn’t seem to include them.
“I wish I had better advice,” Nicole said.
“I don’t think there’s an answer right now. I think Adam and I both need time.”
Nicole nodded. “Want some ice cream?”
“Yes.”
“And tequila?”
Shannon smiled. “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.”
* * *
Pam signed her name over and over. There were dozens of little stickers with an arrow on them, pointing to where she should sign her name. She went from page to page, feeling her sense of satisfaction grow with each signature.
The Girls of Mischief Bay Page 28