“They can wait,” Melanie shrugged. “I haven’t seen you in too long already, and you were so sweet to come up early. And I thought you probably needed a massage. Relieve some of your stress.”
Lydia snorted and grinned, “And you think this alone will do it?”
“Hey, it’s a start,” Melanie said. She pulled the bathrobe sash tightly around her waist. “Shall we?”
Lydia opened the door to go back into the hallway; a young woman was waiting for them. “Just follow me, ladies.” She led them down the dimly lit hall to a room at the end.
Candlelight flooded the space where two massage tables stood side by side; many more lit candles were strewn across high shelves. Lydia couldn't quite identify the aroma floating around—perhaps lavender?—but it was soft and pleasing. The New Age music was playing quietly here too, and two male massage therapists were already waiting, one standing by each table.
“I asked for male therapists,” Melanie said to her friend. “I like to really be worked, and men’s hands are just stronger. Hope you’re okay with that.”
“It’s fine,” Lydia said. “Hey, I haven’t had a man’s hands on me in so long, I’ll take it without complaint.”
Melanie chuckled. “Lyddie, I’m glad to see you haven’t lost that dry wit of yours. But we need to really catch up. As in, you need to tell me what’s really been going on with you, not these fake cheery emails you’ve been sending me lately. What bullshit.”
“It hasn't been bullshit!” Lydia cried.
“Oh please. You think I don’t know you’ve been holding out on me because my wedding was coming, and you didn’t want to ‘bother’ me? I know you too well. Give it up.” She turned away to move towards the table on the right and smiled sweetly at her waiting massage therapist. “Face up first, I presume?”
“Yes,” he answered with a return smile.
Lydia and Melanie arranged themselves on their tables.
“I never know how to do this gracefully.” Lydia laughed, awkwardly pulling the top sheet over her body. “Is there such a thing?”
“She needs a lot of work,” Melanie cracked to the massage therapist who would be attending to Lydia. “Work some magic, please.”
“I’ll do my best,” he promised.
The soft, New Age music flowed gently through the speakers, the aromatic candles burned, and the women closed their eyes and took deep, cleansing breaths as they were instructed to do.
Lydia’s mind wandered. She wondered what her baby was doing right at that moment. She smiled as she thought of her son, but the smile faded as she remembered Andy’s expression when she put him in his father’s arms that morning: frowning, worried, like he understood she was going to be gone for a while and he didn’t like it. Before he could get upset, she had covered his sweet little face in kisses, assured him that she’d be back soon, and reminded him he would have fun being with his daddy for a sleepover weekend. Over Andy’s head, she had shot Matt a glance of warning. He better have fun, don’t make a liar out of me. Be extra good to him, she tried to message through her pointed gaze. As usual, Matt had simply looked away, avoiding her eyes, avoiding her.
Lydia softly winced at herself in reproach. She had to stop this. Matt was Andy’s father. He loved him and was capable of taking care of their son. He would find a way to communicate with their little boy. He may not do things the way she wanted them done, but she had to accept that, accept that it was alright, and live with it.
It was the way things would be for the rest of their lives, so she had been working on that a lot over the past year: on finding and feeling true acceptance. Acceptance of her failed marriage, acceptance of the fallout, acceptance of Matt’s shortcomings—and, more importantly, of her own. Acceptance of things she couldn’t control, acceptance of the tremendous changes in her life, in Andy’s life… but trying to find all that acceptance on a daily basis was draining. She often felt exhausted, mentally and physically, and was getting tired of being tired all the time. She was more than ready to relinquish that feeling for the next three days. Rest would be nice, solitude would be good, and escape even better. She was ready for a diversion, however temporary it was.
“So tell me about this weekend,” Lydia said to Melanie. Her rich voice was quiet and tranquil, and her eyes remained closed. “Give me a basic rundown of events.”
“Okay. First, I’ll backtrack a bit. Ryan and I came up together last night,” Melanie began as her masseuse started to work on her shoulders. “Ohhh my God, that feels good. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Where was I? Oh yeah. We had a really nice night here, just the two of us, since it was probably the last time we’ll be alone until our wedding night. We had a late dinner, we swam in the indoor pool at ten o’clock at night, it was great. This morning, we had breakfast in bed together, and then people started arriving. So far there’s you, my parents, a couple of relatives on both sides, and some of the Forresters. All you smart people, making a three-day weekend out of it. You’re lucky you could get off work.”
“I haven’t seen your parents in a million years. I can’t wait to see them again,” Lydia said, her voice growing softer as her massage therapist worked on the knots in her neck. She relished the sensation, then asked after a minute, “Who are the Forresters?”
“I think I told you about them once,” Melanie said. “One of Ryan’s best friends is Alec Forrester. He’s the best man at the wedding. Ryan’s mom and Alec’s mom grew up together, and they were lifelong best friends. They lived in the same town once they both got married, so they practically raised their families together; the Selbys consider the Forresters to be like family, and vice versa. They all still live in Evanston, right outside Chicago, where Ryan grew up. I don’t think Alec and his wife and kids are going to make it here ‘til close to dinnertime, but Alec’s younger brother and parents got here early this morning, even before you. Ryan and his parents are going to hang out with them, have brunch with them while I’m here with you.”
“Okay. Got it. So, will your guests just keep arriving over the course of the day today, and tomorrow?” Lydia asked.
“I guess so. But you know about tonight, right? You got that invitation?”
“The out-of-towners dinner? Yes. And of course I’ll be there, I told you that. But I had a question about it, actually,” Lydia said. She couldn't help but smirk. “You and Ryan live in Manhattan. I don’t think anyone coming for the wedding is actually from this town. So, technically, aren’t we all out-of-towners?”
Melanie laughed. “Sure, if you look at it that way. But most of the guests couldn’t make a three-day weekend out of it; they’re coming tomorrow, since the wedding isn’t until tomorrow evening. So we’re hosting dinner for whoever is here tonight. About forty people. It’ll be nice.”
“I’m sure it will,” Lydia said. “Tell me: dressy, casual? What am I wearing?”
“Whatever you feel good in.”
“That doesn’t help me.”
“Okay, fine. Nice, but not too nice. Not jeans. Dressy casual. How’s that?”
“Much more helpful, thank you.” Lydia couldn’t believe how good the massage felt. All of her muscles were sighing in ecstasy. She wished she could enjoy it without talking, but she knew this would be her only chance to chat alone with the bride. “When are Donna and Kathryn getting here, do you know?”
“Not ‘til tomorrow. Hopefully by noon. God, I can’t wait to see them.”
“Me too. But Mel, I need you to tell me something,” Lydia said. “Just between us, and I won’t rat you out, okay?”
“Uh oh,” Melanie said, her eyes narrowing.
“Donna and Kathryn are coming by themselves, leaving their husbands at home. Why?”
“Why? Because it was cheaper for them to meet up here and share a room, leave their husbands home to watch the kids, all of that.” Melanie shrugged. “They might even have more fun without them. In fact, I bet they will.”
“Huh. Okay.” Lydia closed her eyes and tried to
relax a little more.
“Why, what were you thinking?” Melanie pressed. “Come on, now.”
Lydia opened her eyes again, looked pointedly at her friend, and asked, “It wasn’t also because of me, was it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know… so I wouldn’t feel like a third wheel,” Lydia said. “Or, as the case would have been, a fifth wheel.”
“Oh. Well… alright, I won’t lie. Yeah, it was thrown out there, it was briefly spoken about,” Melanie conceded. “But they’re coming solo mostly for the reasons I listed. I think the not wanting you to feel alone part was just what sealed the deal for them when it was time to ultimately decide what to do.”
“I had a feeling,” Lydia murmured. “I don’t know why, I just did.”
“Because we all know each other so well, that’s why,” Melanie said. “And you would’ve done the same exact thing if the roles were reversed, and you know it. So don’t be pissed or anything, okay?”
“I’m not pissed. Not at all. I just wanted to know.”
“Okay, good.” Melanie changed the subject. “How’s Andy doing? Those last pictures you sent me were outrageously cute.”
Lydia smiled at the mention of her son. “He is definitely cute, that’s true. He’s such a little love. He started preschool, five days a week. He seems to like it a lot, my sister says he comes home happy. Jane picks him up and holds onto him for a few hours in the afternoon, until I can come and get him. She’s been a tremendous help. Actually, that's a gross understatement. I don’t know how I’d be doing any of this without her, honestly.”
“Always loved Jane.” Melanie grinned. “She’s a good egg. I'm glad she can help you. How’s Andy’s speech doing? Any improvement?”
“It’s coming along. Therapy three times a week now. He’ll get there. Thanks for asking.” Lydia cleared her throat. “So, we didn’t finish before: what’s the agenda for tomorrow?” She brought the topic back to the wedding festivities, hoping it would keep Melanie from starting the next round of questions she wasn’t in the mood to answer.
“Oh, right,” Melanie said with a bright smile. “Tomorrow morning, afternoon, you all can do whatever you like. This place is fantastic, Lyddie. It has everything: this spa, a gym, a heated indoor pool, steam room and sauna, tennis courts, a golf course—you can even rent a bike if you want to go check out the biking and walking trails around the estate.”
“I’ll definitely go for a walk or two while I’m here,” Lydia said. “Other than that, I’d love to just find a quiet place to read, honestly.”
Melanie chuckled. “You haven’t changed much in eighteen years. I knew you were going to say something like that.”
“At least I’m consistent,” Lydia quipped.
“They have beautiful gardens here. I’m sure if it’s warm enough in the sun, you could read outside,” Melanie suggested. “If you’d rather read inside, they have a huge den, with beautiful old-fashioned bookshelves and a fireplace and couches; they call it the parlor room. You can go read there if you don’t want to stay locked up in your room. Which you better not.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Lydia replied. She closed her eyes again and let the massage therapist work his magic on her calves. “I’m here to celebrate this weekend, Bridey Girl. I have a lot to celebrate, actually. I need to tell you something.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes. Well…” Lydia opened her eyes and turned her head to look at Melanie. “I just signed the papers on Tuesday. It’s official. I’m a free woman.”
“What?” Melanie gasped, nearly bolting to sit up. “You’re officially divorced?”
Lydia nodded with a wry smile that she felt didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I am. We are.”
“Wow, Lyddie. My God. Finally!” Melanie enthused. “And what perfect timing—you can truly celebrate now, at a weekend long party with your friends who love you. You're going to eat and drink and dance and have fun and it's going to be great!”
“Yup, it will be.”
Melanie sighed. “Lydia…” she said in a soft, caring tone. “I don’t mean to sound insensitive, and if I did, I apologize. I just really want you to have a nice weekend. You need it. You deserve it, after the last couple of years, especially this past year. I really hope you have a good time this weekend. That's all I want for you.”
Lydia realized that Melanie was looking at her with great affection, and slight worry. “I appreciate it, Mel. I do. But please don’t think about me now. This weekend is about you, not me. I really don’t want to talk about my life. It’s kind of a downer. Hello, you’re getting married! You found someone great that you’re willing to share your life with, even after everything you went through before. How wonderful is that?”
Melanie gave a short, dry laugh. “I know. You’re right. I swore I’d never get married again, after Nick…” She shuddered involuntarily. “Hey, we both know what a disaster that was. But Ryan is just… he’s amazing. I found a truly good man. It took me way too long to admit it, and to do something about it, but thank God I eventually did. I’m very lucky.”
“Ryan is lucky to have you,” Lydia said emphatically, “and I hope he knows it.”
Melanie smiled. “Thanks, Lyddie.”
“What time is the ceremony again? Five o’clock?”
“Yup. Outside ceremony, weather permitting. Cocktail hour outside, reception inside the ballroom. After-party at the pub upstairs on the fourth floor, which I insist you come to, okay?”
“I can’t wait,” Lydia said, and realized she meant it. She was genuinely looking forward to a fun weekend. “It’s all going to be fantastic, Mel.”
Melanie smiled. “Yes. Yes it is, goddammit.” She laughed in delight.
* * *
Lydia and Melanie went their separate ways after their massages. Faced with the rest of the afternoon all to herself, Lydia felt intoxicated with freedom. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a huge block of time to do whatever she wanted. She felt like the day before her was wide open, ripe with pleasant possibilities.
Enjoying the tranquility that a good, professional massage brought, she opted for diving into the fat novel that she’d brought on the trip. She went back to her room to retrieve it, and changed into jeans and an emerald sweater. She slipped into her suede boots, which had a low heel that would make a stroll comfortable if she changed her mind and wanted to go for a walk. She grabbed her chocolate corduroy jacket, the book, and her pocketbook and left to find the main dining room.
The dining room, like the rest of the hotel, was ornate and elegantly decorated. Expensive ivory linens covered the tables and beautiful flowers were arranged in crystal vases on every surface. Large windows along the wall let the midday sunlight pour in, warming and brightening an already attractive space. Lydia went to a small table towards the back to sit by the windows, and was almost immediately attended to by a waiter.
As she sat and waited for her lunch, she stared out the windows at the breathtaking natural scenery of the vast property. Beyond the perimeter of the immense emerald lawn, the trees that lined the grounds were ablaze with autumn colors under the perfect blue sky. Lydia just gazed at the beauty of the landscape, finally letting her mind settle as peacefully as her body had. She tried to recall the last time she’d felt so serene, and honestly couldn’t.
“Madam.” The waiter was back. He placed an artfully arranged salad before her: baby lettuces sprinkled with gorgonzola, cranberries, toasted walnuts, and a small metal cup on the side that held Cabernet Vinaigrette dressing.
“This looks lovely, thank you.” Lydia smiled.
He was already refilling her water glass. “Your lunch will be out shortly. Enjoy.”
She ate while gazing out the window, taking her time. She wondered how her son was faring with his father. A pang hit her chest, and she realized she missed Andy. She pictured his round, cherubic face: Andy’s wide, blue eyes; his tousled bronze hair; his adorably sweet smil
e. She checked her watch. She’d only left him a few hours earlier; if she called so soon to check on him, Matt would be annoyed.
She sighed. She had to give Matt a chance. He wouldn’t hurt Andy, by any means, and she knew he was capable enough to take care of their son’s basic needs. Yet she also knew how frustrated he was by Andy’s silence, and that he found trying to figure out what the little boy wanted was sometimes too frustrating. He ran out of patience quickly, most likely out of some subconscious feelings of guilt. But this weekend, Matt didn’t have her around to throw Andy back to when he got frustrated. He’d have to learn how to handle his son for an extended period of time, deal with figuring out what Andy’s gestures and occasional grunts meant, and it was well past time for that anyway. Lots of things had to change.
“Lydia?”
Her head turned, her reverie broken. Standing before her was Ryan Selby, Melanie’s groom. She’d only met him a handful of times, and hadn’t seen him in maybe a year; she was a bit surprised that he’d recognized her. “Ryan! Hi.” She smiled.
“I thought it was you.” He smiled back and leaned down to lightly kiss her cheek in greeting. “How was your drive up here? You found the place easily, I hope?”
“Yes, I had good directions, it was a breeze. And the scenery on the way up here was spectacular, so that was a nice bonus.”
“I know, everything’s at peak this week, it’s fantastic.” Ryan nodded. He eyed her salad. “Are you having lunch by yourself?”
“I am,” she said simply.
“Okay. How was your massage with Melanie?” he asked. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners as a small grin crossed his face. “Wow, that didn’t sound right.”
Lydia laughed. “The massage was fabulous, thanks. I’m so glad she thought of it. We got a chance to catch up, and I’m very relaxed now.”
“Great, I’m glad. Do you know where she went, by any chance?”
Lydia gave a slight wince. “Sorry, but I’m not sure. She was either going to find you, or to see her parents, but I’m not sure what she decided on.”
Autumn Getaway (Seasons of Love) Page 2