Sophie scrambled along behind Laura, hating the idea that Laura thought she’d done this on purpose. She also hated that it was bothering her. She grabbed for Laura’s arm and spun her around so they were face-to-face.
“Laura, please. Listen to me.” Sophie’s tone was pleading. “I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen. I wasn’t thinking.”
Laura’s blue eyes were crystal and cold, as she jerked her arm out of Sophie’s grasp. “I am sick to death of being judged by you,” she said with venom and continued walking.
Sophie flinched. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she asked the back of Laura’s head.
“The scowls, the snorts, the eye rolling. Do you think I miss it all? Do you think I’m blind and deaf?” Laura wanted to sound angry, but she was annoyed by the undercurrent of hurt that so obviously colored her tone. “Here, boy!”
“I don’t—” Sophie began, but was cut off by Laura’s upheld hand.
“Shut up.”
Sophie blinked in surprise.
Laura glared at her. “I know your girlfriend fooled around on you and I’m sorry about that. I know it hurt you terribly and I also know you’re projecting your anger onto me because I did the same thing to my husband.”
Sophie poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue and struggled to remain quiet, to stay in the same spot, to keep from turning on her booted heel and running away as fast as possible, leaving Laura standing in the snow alone in her pajamas. She didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want to hear any of it.
“But you know what, Sophie?” Laura’s voice dropped until she was practically snarling through her clenched teeth as she carefully articulated each word. “You don’t know a thing about me. You don’t know a thing about my life. You don’t know a thing about my marriage. You have no right to judge me. No right at all.”
They stood face-to-face among the trees, creating a dichotomy of light and dark. Snow fell silently onto their hair as Laura’s chest rose and fell, the quickened pace a sign of her anger, something she kept banked like the glowing embers of a fire. She was so incredibly tired of having to explain herself, to defend herself. No, she wasn’t proud of the way she’d handled things, but she’d had her reasons. It was over and done with and she’d moved on. She wished people would just leave her the hell alone about it.
She turned on her heel and headed deeper into the woods. “Come here, boy!”
Sophie saw the hurt, the resentment, the exhaustion in Laura’s face before she turned away, surprised by how they made her feel. She wet her lips and spoke before she had a chance to think about it. “I was a crappy wife.”
Laura stopped, her back to Sophie, feeling somewhat off balance at the remark. “What?”
“I was a crappy wife.” Sophie couldn’t believe she’d said it. Twice. “A crappy partner.” She also couldn’t believe how much better she felt, as if the fact had weighed an extra fifty pounds and by saying it, she was now that much lighter. “I was never around and when I was, I was a control freak. I was bossy. I worked too much. I was distant.”
“Oh, Sophie…” Laura didn’t know what to say. She sighed and looked at her feet.
“I drove Kelly to somebody else. It was my fault.”
Laura turned to look at her, saw the anguish and the self-recrimination in Sophie’s eyes. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth. Do you know why Kelly started going to the gym where she met her new love?”
Laura suspected this was the first time Sophie had talked about this and she didn’t want to answer because she knew it would only exacerbate the pained expression on Sophie’s beautiful face. At the same time, she guessed maybe Sophie needed to tell the story, needed to say the words out loud. All of them. “No. Why?”
“Because she was always complaining about being fat—which she wasn’t. And so one day she said she was fat and instead of trying to convince her that she was beautiful, which any good partner would have done, I agreed with her. I told her she was right, that she was putting on weight, that she needed to get herself back into shape because she wasn’t getting any younger.” The memory horrified her and made her sick to her stomach. “Who says something like that to the person they supposedly love?” She shook her head and snorted. “I bought her the gym membership for her birthday. Serves me right.”
Laura was quiet for several minutes. Looking at Sophie, she was surprised to note that all she wanted to do was relieve the hurt that came off her like waves of heat. “You know…it takes two to tango. It takes two to mess up a relationship.”
“Sometimes it only takes one,” Sophie said with a sad smile.
Laura took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, knowing she couldn’t make this better, that only Sophie had the power to forgive herself, to learn from her mistakes and move on. “I’m sorry.” It was the most fitting thing she could think of to say.
“No, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve been a judgmental bitch and I had no right.”
Laura grinned, surprised by the words. “Apology accepted.” Her dimples deepened. “Do you think we can start over?”
Sophie held out her hand. “Hi there. Sophie Wilson. Nice to meet you.”
Laura took the offered hand and shook it, warmed by the strength of the grip. A tingle zipped up her arm as she nearly became lost in the rich brown of Sophie’s eyes, lighter now than they’d been earlier. “Laura Baker. It’s nice to meet you, too.” They held on for several long seconds before Laura reluctantly let go and asked with a smirk, “Think you can help me find my dog?”
*
By early afternoon, the snow had subsided and then started back up again. Bellies were full from the lunch of turkey sandwiches and vegetable soup Laura had prepared for the group, ordering Amy to take a meal off and just sit, not an easy feat. Wine and beer were flowing in abundance and the atmosphere in the cabin was one of general relaxation. Peals of laughter rang through the living room as Sophie and Molly battled video game zombies, squealing like little girls as they sat Indian-style on the floor.
Laura had reclaimed her chair and book. The terrier, located that morning by Jo and Darby with his nose stuck in the chipmunk hole of a dead tree, was curled up in the crook of her knee sleeping off the exhaustion from his adventure. Every so often, she’d glance up at the game players and catch Sophie’s eye. Sophie would smile and they’d each return to their tasks, relieved to have gotten past the animosity. Amy was in the shower. Kristin sat at the kitchen table with her Blackberry and a beer, checking her e-mail. Jo and Darby were putting away the lunch dishes.
“How’s your wine, Laura?” Jo called to her guest. “Ready for a refill?”
Laura glanced at her half-full glass. “Not yet, thanks. I’m good.”
“Zombie warriors?” Sophie and Molly picked up their empty bottles and held them over their heads. Jo laughed. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes, could we please have more beer, Ms. Cooper?’” She retrieved two fresh bottles from the fridge and handed them to Darby for delivery. “Kristin?”
Kristin was absorbed in her e-mail, using her thumbs to type a response to a client as she became increasingly annoyed that Reeves continued to forward e-mail to her knowing she was on vacation. He could just as easily be handling it himself. Jo laid a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jump.
“Sorry.” Jo reached for Kristin’s beer. She handed it to her frazzled-looking friend. “Finish this last swallow and I’ll get you another one. You look like you could use it.”
Kristin did as ordered and handed her bottle over to Jo, who took it into the kitchen. Darby walked by with the empties from the living room. Looking at Kristin with thinly veiled disgust, she commented in a tone only Kristin could hear, “Jesus, look at you. In a corner away from the women, swigging beer and absorbed in your job while you’re supposed to be on vacation. You might as well not even be here.”
The muscles in Kristin’s jaw clenched.
“You’re practically invisible. Pretty soon, she
won’t see you at all.”
Kristin’s nostrils flared and she felt her face heating up. She knew if she didn’t move, run, get away right now, she would very likely knock Darby on her ass. Hard. It would be embarrassing for everybody, Molly would be pissed, she’d ruin her friendship with Jo and Amy and succeed in hammering the final nail into the coffin of this “vacation.” She stood up so fast, her chair fell backward and crashed loudly to the floor.
The cabin got quiet as everybody turned to look at the two women staring at each other. Kristin’s eyes were blue fire and if she could have shot laser beams out of them at Darby, she would have. Darby, on the other hand, had enough sense to look a bit fearful, knowing instinctively that she’d crossed a line. She stood her ground, swallowing hard and feeling not only Kristin’s glare, but that of her aunt in the kitchen.
Her nostrils still flaring and her jaw clenched so tightly it was giving her an instant headache, Kristin managed to speak. “I need some air,” she ground out.
Darby stepped back out of her path before she could be bodily pushed. Kristin didn’t look at anybody as she stepped into her boots and donned her coat, hat, and gloves. She crossed to the kitchen and took the open beer bottle Jo had been about to bring her, then headed for the front door.
“Kristin?” Molly’s voice was uncertain.
Kristin held up a gloved hand, forestalling any further conversation. “I need some air,” she said again and then she was gone.
Nobody moved for what felt like several long minutes. The room was silent, save for the shrieking of the dying characters on the video game. Amy returned freshly showered and her gaze bounced around the room in confusion.
“What happened?” she asked and her voice seemed to free everybody, as if they’d been frozen and just waiting for a sound to break the spell. They all shifted at once, Sophie and Laura glancing at each other, Molly looking across the room at Darby in disappointment.
Before Darby could react at all, Jo grabbed a handful of her shirt and yanked her bodily past a bewildered Amy and into the back bedroom, where she slammed the door and pushed her niece roughly against the wall, keeping her pinned with a hand on her chest.
“What the hell was that about?” she demanded.
“What?” Darby tried to feign innocence, knowing it wasn’t going to work. “She obviously can’t take a joke.”
“Why would she take a joke from you, Darby? You’ve been slobbering all over her girlfriend the whole week.”
“You think she’s actually noticed?” The sarcastic edge to her voice didn’t do a thing to dissuade Jo’s anger with her.
“Everybody else has.”
Darby chuckled, but stopped immediately as Jo pulled her forward just enough to bump her back into the wall again, wiping the smirk right off her face.
“Not funny. Show some respect, God damn it. These are my friends and you’re way out of line.”
Darby couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Aunt Jo this angry with her. She blinked, honestly not following her aunt’s train of thought. “How? How am I out of line?”
“How?” Jo looked at her in disbelief. “Jesus, your generation is just a fucking mess, isn’t it?” She rubbed at her forehead in frustration as she realized she was actually going to have to spell things out. “They’re in trouble, Darby. Molly and Kristin. Their relationship is in trouble and if you knew them the way Aunt Amy and I do, you’d know that they love each other enough to fix it.” She eyed her niece, satisfied she was paying close attention. “Maybe you and your friends think it’s okay to move in on somebody who’s spoken for—though I want to believe you’re not that cold-hearted—but me and my friends? We don’t work that way. I don’t know what your intentions are in this game you’re playing with Molly, but I suspect you want nothing more than to get into her cute little panties so you can carve another notch into your bedpost.” At Darby’s gasp of indignation, Jo sneered. “Oh, come on, Darby. It’s what you do. You cruise, you fuck, you move on. You know it and I know it. You talk about it all the time. And I’ve never judged you for it, have I?”
Darby grimaced and bit the inside of her lip as she shook her head. “No.”
“Well, this time, I am. These are my friends; they’re not a challenge put here for you.”
“But I like her.” Darby sounded like a small child.
“What?”
“I like her. Molly. I…you know…I like her.”
Jo looked at her for several long seconds, seeing something in Darby’s eyes she’d never seen before. Son of a bitch. Why now? Why Molly? No, it didn’t matter. She shook her head. “That’s too damn bad. You can like her. You just can’t have her. She’s a married woman who’s desperate to fix her failing relationship. If you do like her, then you need to step back and respect her enough not to interfere.”
Darby looked at her feet, feeling like she was eight years old all over again and being scolded by her aunt for messing with her tools.
“Do you understand?” When Darby looked back up at her, Jo, too, was reminded of a much younger version. She could vividly see her niece fifteen years ago, kind, smart, quick-witted. It was excruciatingly difficult to stay angry with her. She consciously softened her tone. “Look, I know you like Molly. It’s not hard to, believe me. She’s a good egg who’s in a bad place right now. She’s vulnerable and she’s confused and she needs help from her friends, not more obstacles. Can you do that? Can you be her friend and not an obstacle?”
Darby grimaced, thinking back to that morning, of kissing Molly, of how good she felt under her hands, under her mouth. She also remembered being pushed away, being begged to stop, and the look of uncertainty in Molly’s bruised green eyes—the look that told her she wasn’t helping matters any, no matter how Molly had responded.
Darby wet her lips. “Yeah. I can do that.”
Jo rubbed her hand over her face as if trying to wipe away the recent stress. “Good.” She backed off, letting Darby move away from the wall. “Thank you.”
Darby nodded once.
“Go.” Jo gestured to the door. “Aunt Amy’s going to bust in here any minute wanting to know what’s going on.”
“Okay.”
As she watched her niece leave, Jo released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, her cheeks puffing out as she did so. She tried hard not to think of the week as having turned into a disaster of epic proportions. It could be worse. Laura and Sophie could have killed each other by now and the stray dog could have been a rabid Rottweiler instead of a little terrier. Worse yet, we could be out of alcohol. She chuckled and ran a hand through her curls, shaking her head in wonder. The door opened and Amy came in, concern on her face.
She touched a hand to Jo’s cheek. “What the hell happened?”
Kristin
Kristin wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, and if she had been farther away from the house, she would have. The last thing she wanted was for all of them to come running out to see if she was okay. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to wallow in self-pity. She wanted to bawl her eyes out and shriek to the heavens, demanding to know how and why her life had become such a complete catastrophe.
She was so angry at everybody right now. She couldn’t remember ever feeling such rage. It boiled within her like some sort of witch’s brew, sour and hot. As she stomped through the snow and into the trees behind the house, she pictured the face of Jack Reeves. Then she pictured her fist punching him square in the nose with all her strength. She used to belong to a gym and she used to kick-box; he was a big guy, but she could clobber him pretty well, she was sure.
She took a slug from the beer bottle in her hand. In her mind’s eye, while Jack was writhing on the floor and whining “my nose!” like Marcia Brady, Kristin turned her head and there stood Darby.
“Disrespectful little bitch,” Kristin muttered out loud, clenching her teeth and wrinkling her lip in a snarl. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” And then her imaginary self punched Darby
, too. Twice. Hard. It took her longer to go down than Reeves. No surprise there.
All you need is a penis and you’d be the typical American white male.
Where the hell did that little punk get off saying something like that to her? Kristin hated how much the statement had stung. Did that mean that somewhere deep down inside, she thought it was true?
Kristin swigged again, choking on the swallow of beer and then stopping to collect herself and catch her breath. She forged ahead, off the cleared path and straight back into the woods. The air was crisp and she was glad she’d grabbed the hat and gloves on her way out. She intended to stay outside for as long as she could. She didn’t want to be near any of those women, not even Molly. Not now. She was too embarrassed, too ashamed.
You’re practically invisible. Pretty soon, she won’t see you at all.
That was true. God, what Molly must think of her. But really, did she have an option? Her job was stressful and demanding, Molly knew that. There were times when it was going to have to come first, right? There were bills to pay. There was a mortgage and two car payments and Molly’s student loan and vacations to take… Kristin blinked snowflakes from her eyelashes. When’s the last time we went on a real vacation? Three years ago? Four?
It had been Hilton Head. They’d rented a nice little bungalow and spent the week playing golf, lying on the beach, and eating fine food accompanied by expensive wine. She could still vividly recall the love on Molly’s face as she sat across the dining table of the fancy restaurant, the candlelight flickering in her sea green eyes. Even now, Kristin’s heart raced when she thought about it. How long had it been since Molly had looked at her that way? Since Molly had looked at her at all?
She trudged on as unwanted tears welled in her eyes and a small whimper escaped her throat. The ground sloped downward slightly as she stepped over a downed tree branch, slipping a little in the snow.
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