If she stayed with Adam, then he would need to be part of the decision. There was his vasectomy to work through, assuming he was even interested in having a child with her. She was also very close to forty. Could she get pregnant the old-fashioned way?
She walked to her car and got in. Questions swirled, threatening to overwhelm her. She needed someone to talk to and at that moment, she couldn’t think of a single person she could call. Pam was gone, Nicole was dealing with Eric leaving her, and Adam, well, she was confused about him.
As if wanting to help, her phone rang. She glanced at the screen and saw the familiar skull and crossbones.
Quinn, she thought. A man with no answers, but an impressive way of distracting her from whatever was wrong in her life.
“Hello?”
“Gorgeous.”
“Hey. What’s up?”
“Funny you should ask. I know we said we weren’t going to do this anymore, but I wondered if I could change your mind.”
There was something in his voice, she thought with surprise. A kind of vulnerability. Or maybe she was hearing what she wanted to hear.
Going over to Quinn’s wouldn’t solve anything, but it would make her feel better. She could lose herself in the moment, maybe put a little distance between herself and Adam. Emotionally if not physically.
Except it would be wrong, she thought with surprise. She and Adam were in a relationship. Things might be uncomfortable between them, but they were still together. She hadn’t broken up with him. If she slept with Quinn, she would be cheating.
“That difficult a question?” he asked.
“It kind of is.”
She thought about how feeling good would be followed by the drive of shame. She thought about how her nights with Quinn could very well be a metaphor for her life. Fun in the moment, but without direction or purpose, and always with more than a hint of regret at the end.
She didn’t want regret. She wasn’t sure where she stood on the baby front, but spending the night with Quinn didn’t answer any of the questions. Even more important, she didn’t like what a night with Quinn said about her.
“No,” she told him. “I’m sorry, but I can’t see you.”
“Okay. You take care.”
“You, too.”
He hung up. She dropped her phone into her purse and started the engine. She might not know exactly where she was going to be in five years, but for tonight, she was going home.
Twenty-Five
Pam was surprised to discover that a busy social schedule made fitting in a suicide kind of difficult.
The week of the cruise had flown by. Once she made friends with Olimpia, Laura and Eugenia, she’d been busy nearly every second of every day. Together the three of them had explored Jamaica, including a very fun river cruise on a small flat-bottomed boat. Laura had brought lemon-flavored vodka for all of them and they’d ended up singing “Born to Be Wild” and frightening their tour guide.
When they’d stopped in Grand Cayman, they’d visited the turtle farm and Pam had discovered that not only did rum cake get you drunk, but if you ate enough, it could also give you a hangover. Now it was the last day—the day at sea, when she was supposed to do the deed. But so far she hadn’t found a single moment to get herself ready, let alone fling herself off the ship.
She’d seen ruins in Mexico and had bought silly souvenirs for her kids. She’d attended an art auction and had actually bought a couple of pieces. There’d been movies, live shows and laughter. She’d nearly forgotten what it felt like to laugh.
The week had been so much better than she’d hoped, but it was nearly over and she had to remember why she’d come in the first place. She was going to end her life.
She couldn’t do it without organizing her thoughts and making sure her room was tidy. All she needed was an hour, she told herself. She would sneak away and get it done.
But morning had turned into afternoon and now it was only an hour or so from dinner. Maybe that was better, she thought. In the dark no one would see her falling. That way it would take them longer to miss her. After dinner. She would have a last meal with her friends.
Eugenia waved a piece of paper. “Do you know how hard it is to plan a tour in Europe without going to Italy? Especially when everyone else wants to go to Italy?”
They sat, as they always did, in the Explorers Lounge. They even had “their” table. They’d met for cocktails before dinner.
“I’m ignoring the parts about Italy,” Olimpia said. “What did you find?”
“A glorious cruise. It leaves September sixth. We start in Amsterdam and finish up in Istanbul.” Eugenia looked at Laura. “That’s in Turkey.”
“I know where Istanbul is,” Laura told her. “Wasn’t there a song?”
Olimpia leaned toward Pam. “Music is where Laura gets all her information.”
“I’ll have ya’ll know, I was very talented at one time.”
“You’re still talented,” Pam pointed out. Because she’d learned that Laura was a classically trained pianist. And that Eugenia had published five novels. And that Olimpia had kept her husband’s business going for nearly a decade after his death.
These women weren’t just widows. They were bright and funny and loyal. She enjoyed their company. They had helped her get through what could have been a horrible week and she would always be grateful. In a way, she wished she could leave them a note, telling them what they meant to her. But she couldn’t. Her death was supposed to be an accident.
“Back to the cruise,” Eugenia said. “Are we interested?”
“We are,” Olimpia said, then winked at Pam. “She always gets like this when it’s her turn to plan things. Completely imperious.”
Pam smiled. She’d learned that each year one of them was responsible for making the arrangements for their three cruises.
“I’m ignoring you,” Eugenia said.
“Then there’s no point in voicing my opinion,” Olimpia murmured with a sly smile. “You’ll have to vote without me.”
“Not a problem,” Laura said cheerfully. “Three votes is a majority. What do you think, Pam?”
Eugenia passed her the itinerary. “I’ve checked. There are four staterooms still available.”
Pam took the piece of paper and stared blindly at it. Her go with them? That had never been discussed. Oh, there had been comments made. “You’ll love Alaska.” Or “Would you be willing to go to Italy? We can leave Olimpia at the airport.” But she’d thought they were just being nice.
She tried to bring the tiny print into focus. Laura passed over a pair of reading glasses.
Pam slipped them on. “I’ve never been to Malta,” she whispered, looking at the exotic-sounding ports. “That would be nice.”
“Then it’s decided,” Eugenia said. “I’ll email all of you the information as soon as I’m home.” She waved at one of the servers, and gestured that they wanted another round. “Are we eating at Sabatini’s tonight?”
“We are,” Olimpia said. “I made reservations. Six thirty.”
Sabatini’s was one of the premium restaurants on the ship. Pam had forgotten they were going there. The evening would be lovely—good food and caring company. And then… Well, she would think about that later.
* * *
By the time the four of them had finished dinner and giggled through the last night of karaoke and had a nightcap, it was close to midnight. With every passing second, Pam was aware of the ship getting
closer and closer to Florida.
The evening had gone by so quickly, she thought. She’d laughed and talked and while she’d still missed John with every breath, the pain was less intense than it had been. It seemed almost…manageable.
How could that be? She’d lost her husband—she needed to be suffering. Not only to feel closer to him, but also to prove her love. Even as those thoughts appeared, she understood the wrongness of them. But that didn’t take away their power.
She’d come on this cruise for only one reason and her window of opportunity was closing.
“I should get to bed,” she said as she stood.
The three women exchanged a look, then Olimpia rose. “I’ll walk with you.” She picked up her bag. “We’re all clear on where we’re meeting in the morning?”
Laura wiggled her fingers. “You’ve told us fifteen times. We’ll be there, to say our goodbyes. Until September, right Pam?”
Pam bit her lower lip and nodded. She wanted to hug each of them. To tell them how much she’d appreciated them taking her under their collective wing. They’d made her feel welcome and they’d reminded her that life did indeed go on. She might not be willing to go through the pain of healing, but they’d allowed her to see the possibilities.
But to admit any of that would mean telling them too much. So there would be no goodbyes, no last hugs, no thanking them. Instead, she simply said, “Good night” and walked with Olimpia to the elevators.
“I’ve never been to Mischief Bay,” Olimpia said as they waited for the elevator. “What’s it like?”
“A small town tucked in the middle of Los Angeles. The weather is great.”
“You’re near the beach?”
“Only a few blocks away.”
They stepped into the elevator. Pam pushed her floor.
“Maybe I’ll come out for a visit this August,” Olimpia said. “By then the humidity is making me think about relocating.” She flashed a smile. “Not that I would, but I do complain and threaten.”
They got off on Pam’s floor. She thought about pointing out that her friend was on a different deck, but figured she wouldn’t mind a little company. It wasn’t that she was having second thoughts, exactly. It was just the thought of throwing herself off the ship was a little harder than she’d expected.
They got to Pam’s room and stepped inside. Olimpia headed for the sofa and sat on one cushion.
“You must be excited about seeing your kids,” she said as Pam set down her bag and took the chair opposite.
“I am. Of course.”
“Jen’s what? Four months’ pregnant?”
“Yes.”
Olimpia smiled. “You’ll know the sex of the baby soon. That’s so fun. I don’t suppose twins run in your family.”
“No, and don’t let Jen hear you say that. She would freak out.”
“Twins would be difficult. But she’ll have you. And soon Steven will meet someone and settle down. Plus Brandon will be graduating. A doctor. You must be so proud.”
Pam nodded because it was expected, but what she was thinking was that she wanted Olimpia to stop talking. All this conversation about her children was making her sad. She didn’t want to think about all they would accomplish or experience without her being there to see it. She didn’t want to imagine not holding her first grandchild, or her second or tenth.
But she had to do this, she reminded herself. It was the only thing that made sense. She had to…
“I’m not leaving,” Olimpia said quietly, her gaze steady. “If I think I can’t stay awake, I’m going to call Laura or Eugenia and they’ll come sit with you.”
Pam eyes widened. Her face flushed and she stood. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do, and it’s all right. We’ve felt what you feel, Pam. We’ve had the long nights, the empty days, the horror that the missing won’t go away and the terror that it will. We’ve all wrestled with going on and the knowledge that sometimes it seemed so much easier not to.”
She smiled sadly. “If you want to do it, I can’t stop you. But it won’t be tonight. Not on our watch. We care about you and want you to be around to travel with us.”
Pam sank back in the chair. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to be. We understand better than most. It does get better. It’s never easy, it never feels completely right, but you do heal. And move on.”
Pam wasn’t sure what to feel. Embarrassment, maybe. Shame. Or defiance. Emotions swirled through her, none of them staying long enough to be defined.
“I didn’t know how to survive without him,” she admitted.
“You’ll learn. And when it gets hard, remember, John wouldn’t have wanted this. He would have wanted you to be happy.”
Olimpia was right, she thought, a little dazed by the revelation. John would have wanted her to keeping moving forward. To find her place in life.
In life, she repeated to herself. Because that was the whole point of every person’s journey. To be alive. To live and to keep moving forward.
* * *
“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” Adam said. “So I appreciate the company.”
“Not to mention the extra free labor,” Shannon added.
He grinned. “That, too.”
He’d called the previous day and explained he was painting Oliver’s bedroom. His son had decided he was old enough to let go of his Brad the Dragon motif and move toward “big boy” decor. According to Adam, that meant light blue walls and new bedding.
By the time she’d arrived at his house that morning, Adam had already taken the dragon bed out and loaded it into a company pickup. He would be dropping it off at Nicole’s later for a very thrilled Tyler.
The dresser and desk had been pushed to the center of the room and covered with plastic. The windows and doors were taped off, as were the baseboards.
“I can cut in around the ceiling,” he said. “Unless you want to.”
“I’ve painted exactly once before in my life,” she admitted. “You should give me the jobs I can’t mess up.”
“A novice,” he said, stepping close to her. “So I get to show you the ropes.”
“There are ropes? I thought we used brushes.”
“Very funny.”
He put his hands on her hips and drew her against him. He was casually dressed in jeans and a paint-spattered T-shirt. Both looked good on him, as did his choice not to shave that morning.
She rested her fingers on his broad chest. He was warm and being close to him made her breath hitch. She’d missed him, she thought. She’d kept herself busy enough that she wouldn’t notice, but she had. So when he’d called, she’d wanted to say yes.
She still wasn’t sure where they were going, but somehow being without Adam had become more difficult.
“It’s nice to have you here,” he said, right before he kissed her.
His mouth settled on hers. Wanting settled low in her belly. She raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck. Her breasts nestled against his chest.
They fit, she thought. In so many ways. But what about everything else?
She drew back enough to see into his eyes. She needed to put herself out there. To take a risk in love and see it through. “I don’t know if I can be a good stepmother.”
She ignored the fact that he hadn’t asked. They were supposed to be a couple. It was the next logical step.
“Is it something you’r
e willing to talk about?” he asked.
“I think so. I want things to work out, but I’m not sure. You and Tabitha were a family. I’ll never have equal footing. I’ll always be the other one. You’ll want me to care about the kids as much as you do but I won’t have the same say in what happens with them.”
His dark gaze never wavered. “That doesn’t sound very fair.”
“It’s not, but do you think it’s untrue?”
“No.” He touched her cheek. “I can’t change what I bring to the table.”
“I don’t want you to. I’m just not sure how to make it all work. What if I want a baby from Ethiopia?”
“Do you?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure. Did Tabitha work when you had the kids?”
“No. She stayed home until Oliver was three.”
Shannon tried to imagine giving up her career. She loved her work, loved her lifestyle. But was it enough? She had a feeling she already knew the answer.
“I could see taking a six-week leave. Or even a couple of months,” she said slowly. But not more. She didn’t want to give up that much of who she was.
Had that been the issue all along? Had she not wanted children, but been afraid to admit it? Afraid it made her a bad person? So she’d pretended it was because she couldn’t find the one?
“I love you,” Adam told her and kissed her. “Whatever you decide, I want to be with you. Losing you isn’t an option.” He smiled. “I mean that in a nonscary way.”
He leaned his forehead against hers. “I know what happened with Char was frustrating. I’m to blame for a lot of that. You’re the first woman they’ve met.”
She straightened. “I’m pretty sure they’ve met other women, Adam. At the grocery store, at the park.”
He groaned. “Fine. You’re the first woman I’ve been dating that they’ve met. It’s going to take some time for us all to figure it out.” He grabbed her hand. “I want to make it work. My sister Gabby and I were talking about this. She thought maybe family counseling would help. First you and me, then with the kids. To establish ground rules that are fair for everyone. What you said before about being the outsider? I know that there are pieces of that I can’t change, but I want to make it right for you. However I can.”
The Girls of Mischief Bay Page 33