“Sounds like fun.” I realize Suzette is nearby, probably right behind me, because I can smell her overpowering perfume. I had hoped to lose her, but it seems that’s not to be. So I turn around and attempt to smile as I introduce her to my sons.
“Sorry to steal your mom away from you guys,” she says in a slightly flirtatious voice.
“Oh, that’s okay,” says Patrick. And to my dismay, they actually seem relieved I’m not going to tag along with them.
“Where’s Dad?” asks Conner as he picks up his duffel bag and throws the strap over his shoulder.
I shrug. “Last I heard, he was taking a hike.”
“Hey, you can rent canoes here,” announces Patrick as he holds up the brochure that tells of all the activities available at the lake.
“Well, don’t forget what time the wedding is,” I remind them. “Jenny would be disappointed if her two ushers were late.”
“Yeah, yeah,” says Conner as he nods to his brother. “Let’s get going.”
“Come on, Elizabeth,” Suzette says impatiently. “Let your boys get on their way.”
“Where are we going?” I ask as she tugs me along.
“To get a drink,” she says.
“Oh, I don’t think—” I stop talking when I spot Phil coming straight toward us. His face is slightly flushed and hard to read, but it looks like a cross between confusion and serious irritation.
“Elizabeth?” he says in a firm voice.
“Yes?” I give him the blankest of looks.
“I think we should—”
“You can have her later,” interrupts Suzette. “She’s mine for the moment.”
He looks even more flustered now. Clearly, he’s not used to Suzette’s bossy ways. And I know it’s unkind, but his bewildered expression almost makes me laugh. Fortunately, I don’t.
He reaches out as if to grab my arm, then stops. “But, Elizabeth, we really need to—”
“Later,” says Suzette firmly, and the next thing I know she’s leading me outside, which is a relief, partly because I didn’t want to sit in that stupid bar with her again. Even more that that, I’m relieved to get away from Phil. I’m not sure if I’m in denial or avoidance or what, but I think I’m mostly trying to keep a damper on our marital fireworks. At least until this whole wedding is over and done with. And the sooner the better.
“Elizabeth!”
I turn to see Jeannette waving at me and hurrying over to us. “Where are you two going?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure.” I turn to Suzette and give her a questioning look.
“For a ride,” says Suzette. “You wait here. I’ll get my car.”
“What’s going on?” demands Jeannette. “Since when did you two get so thick?”
So I explain the volatile situation with Suzette and her husband, controlling the urge to tell her about my own marriage problems, which seem to be getting worse.
“Oh dear!” Jeannette is clearly disturbed by this news. “Then by all means, Elizabeth, do whatever it takes to keep that woman happy and quiet. Jenny told me that she can be quite a handful if she gets upset.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was worried about.”
“She could ruin the whole wedding.”
“I know. But what should I do?”
“Placate her, talk to her, encourage her—I don’t know. Whatever you do, just know that Jenny and all of us will greatly appreciate it if you can keep a lid on her. But don’t be late for the wedding. Okay?”
“Aye, aye, captain.” Just then Suzette pulls up in a metallic gold Jaguar convertible. When she stops next to me, the top begins going down. I turn and grin at my sister. “Well, anyway, this should be fun.”
Jeannette just shakes her head. “Take care, Sis. I owe you one.”
So I slide onto the smooth white leather seat next to Suzette, and before I can fasten my seat belt, she tears out of there, spitting gravel and dust behind us.
“Where are you going?” I ask, since she looks quite determined, as if she has a specific destination in mind.
“A little place down the road.”
I consider this as pine trees whiz past us like shooting stars. I don’t recall seeing anything down the road. But, as Jeannette said, I’m here to keep Suzette happy. The next thing I know, she is pulling into a roadside dive that I had missed. Maybe I blinked when we passed it on the way in. The faded wood sign above the door proclaims the establishment to be Jack’s Place, and there are a couple of neon beer signs hanging in the only window, which leads me to believe it’s a tavern.
“You really want to go in here?” I ask as she stops the engine and opens the door.
“Sure, why not? Might be interesting to see some of the local color.”
“Okay …,” I say as I slowly climb out of the pretty car. “Don’t you want to put the top up?”
“Nah, it doesn’t look like rain.”
I don’t argue as I follow her through the swinging door and into the dimly lit room. A couple of video poker machines right next to the door are occupied, one by a burly man with a full beard and the other by an elderly woman wearing a Steelers jacket and dangling a cigarette loosely from her lips.
There are a couple of guys sitting at the bar. More “local color,” I’m guessing. Suzette and I take a table off to the side. The vinyl-covered chairs look like some my mother had in her kitchen when I was little, and they haven’t been washed since that time. The Formica-topped table is chipped along the edges and sticky on top with who knows what. I set my small purse in my lap and casually wonder if my cell phone might work from here, although I doubt it since this place feels even more remote than the lodge. But I do notice a pay phone over by the poker machines. I suppose it would work in an emergency. Then I ask myself what I think is going to happen that would constitute an emergency. Just because some of these people appear to be of the backwoods variety doesn’t mean they’re wanted as ax murderers.
After a few minutes, a middle-aged bald man wearing a faded blue tank top with a stain across the chest slowly walks over to our table. “What can I get for you two ladies?”
“I’d like a Cosmo,” says Suzette in a prim voice.
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything.
“Do you have iced tea?” I ask timidly.
“Long Island?”
“No, no … How about a Coke?”
“Straight up?” His tone is teasing now.
I force a smile directly at him. “Yes, give me a Coke straight up.”
Suzette lets out an exasperated sigh after the man leaves. “Geeze, Elizabeth, you could at least have a glass of wine. It’s not very nice to make a girl drink alone.”
“You’re not alone,” I tell her.
Now she leans forward, as if she’s about to confide in me. “I talked to your husband today.”
“What?” I look at her incredulously. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I talked to Phil.”
“Oh, you mean back at the lodge,” I say hopefully. “When you told him he’d have to wait to talk—”
“No, I mean when I was out on a walk earlier. I was trying to find my no-good, cheating husband.”
“You actually talked to Phil?” This news is unsettling. I can’t imagine what she might’ve said or how Phil took it. And while I know that Suzette has every right to speak to anyone she wishes, the idea of her having a conversation with Phil is very disturbing.
She smiles smugly. “Yes, I actually talked to him. And I gave him a piece of my mind.”
I groan now. “That’s just great.”
“Here you go, ladies,” says the bartender as he sets down our drinks. No coasters or napkins, just right down on the already-gummy table. I’ll be surprised if we can pry them off, not that I care particularly. He grins at us now, revealing that he’s missing a tooth on one side. “I’m guessing you ladies ain’t from around here.”
Suzette holds up her glass as if to toast him. “You’re guessing right. Thank g
oodness. And keep the drinks coming.”
He salutes her. “No problem, ladies.”
As soon as he’s out of earshot, I continue. “Seriously, Suzette. What did you say to Phil?”
“I simply let him know that he was a lowdown dirty dog and that I knew what he was doing and you did too.”
“You really said that?”
She nods proudly. “I did.”
I consider the irony of how I’m trying to keep a lid on things for Suzette, and in the meantime she’s out throwing gasoline on my little fire. Why did I ever trust this woman in the first place?
“You know, Phil is a good-looking guy,” she tells me, “and I can see how a younger woman might be attracted to him.”
“You mean like you?”
She laughs and waves her hand. “Don’t worry, Elizabeth. I’d never make a move on a friend’s husband.”
I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered that this poor woman actually considers me to be her friend.
“Oh, come on,” she pleads. “Don’t get all gloomy on me, Elizabeth. I want to be happy. And I invited you here for a little celebration.”
“A celebration?”
“That’s right.” She holds up her nearly empty glass now. “Here’s to our new friendship and our newfound freedom.”
I limply hold up my Coke glass and say a weak, “Cheers.”
Then she begins to babble on and on about how it will be good to be single again, how we’ll both probably get really great divorce settlements, and how there are lots more fish in the sea. Those are her exact words: “more fish in the sea.” Give me a break.
I feel sick inside. As if my world is tipping sideways and I have absolutely no control over anything. I’m even tempted to follow Suzette’s example and order something stronger than a Coke. But then I remember that I’m here to keep Suzette happy and out of trouble, and even if I’m miserable doing it, I realize I can and must do this for Jenny’s sake.
I almost wonder if that sleazy barkeeper hasn’t slipped something into my Coke, because everything feels a bit hazy and surreal right now. I suppose I’m being paranoid. I’m sure it’s just me, watching my world steadily slip away. But Suzette’s constant chatter seems to float right past me as she starts her second drink. For a brief moment I consider cutting her off, but the alcohol appears to have a soothing effect on her.
I am mostly thinking about, obsessing over, my own life right now. Is my marriage really finished? Is it possible I will actually have to follow my crazy plan of moving to a small town and buying a bookstore-coffee shop and a used BMW? Even if I made these changes, would they really make me happy? And is that what Phil wanted to talk to me about this afternoon? He had such a strange look in his eyes, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s finally ready to tell all, just spill the beans. And even if that’s so, am I ready to hear it? Then a completely new and somewhat desperate thought hits me—what will our sons think of all this?
Oh, dear Lord, please help me. I’m in way over my head.
Chapter 13
INGRID
Hey, Ingrid!” I glance up from my novel to see Patrick Anderson looking down at me. I’ve known Patrick for years, although never very well since it’s always been through Jenny, but she absolutely adores her older cousin. And I’ve always kept a wary eye on Conner, the younger brother, who’s just a bit older than we are, because I know he used to pick on Jenny when she was little. “But Patrick always stands up for me,” she said once after I told her she should tattle on the boys to her aunt. “He makes it okay.”
As a result, I’ve always been impressed with what a sweet guy Patrick is. Sure, he’s a little on the shy side, although today he’s the one striking up a conversation with me.
“Hey, Patrick,” I say, closing my book. “What’s up?”
“We just got here. Thought we’d put our stuff away, then check things out. Have you been to the pool yet?”
“No, but I heard it’s nice.”
“Well, it’s pretty hot outside,” he says. “Why don’t you join us down there?”
I consider this. “Well, as long as I leave in plenty of time to get dressed for the wedding. Might be nice to cool off.”
“Hey, Ingrid,” says Conner, joining us. “You coming down to the pool with us?”
“Only if you promise not to get my hair wet,” I warn them, giving Conner an I-mean-business look. “I’ve already got it fixed for the wedding.”
“Looks nice,” says Patrick.
“Sure, I’ll try not to splash,” Conner promises with an impish grin. “Well, not too much anyway.”
Patrick gives his brother a playful shove. “Yeah, well, I think I can keep the little whippersnapper under control.”
“Where’s the bride?” asks Conner as we all trek upstairs. “Maybe I can get her hair wet.”
“Fat chance,” I tell him. “Besides, she’s taking a nap.”
“Meet ya down there,” calls Conner, and the two brothers take off down one hallway, and I go down the other.
I hadn’t really planned on swimming this afternoon, but it’s not even four o’clock yet, and a little fun in the sun does sound tempting. I just need to be sure I keep an eye on my watch. I think about Patrick as I go up to my room to change. I haven’t seen him for a couple of years, and I’m surprised at how handsome he’s gotten. Not that he wasn’t good-looking before, but he was always kind of gangly and boyish. Now he’s filled out some and seems to fit into his tall frame much better. And I’d forgotten that he has those blue eyes, such a contrast with his dark brown hair …
What are you doing? I ask myself as I pull on my swimsuit. It’s like I’m suddenly checking out Patrick Anderson—and I am engaged!
“What’s up?” asks Lana as she emerges from the bathroom with a bottle of nail polish. She’s Jenny’s roommate from college and one of the bridesmaids, as well as my roommate for the weekend.
“I’m going to take a quick swim.”
She frowns. “This soon before the wedding? Are you nuts?”
“Maybe. But I’ll just get in and out and soak up a little sun. No biggie.”
“Well, don’t mess up your hair,” she warns.
“I won’t.” I tie a cover-up around my waist, grab a towel and my bag, and head out the door. Good grief, the way Lana’s treating me, you’d think she was the maid of honor, not me. But maybe I am being a little reckless. What if I fell into the pool and ruined my hair? Yet somehow I don’t think that will happen, and for some unexplainable reason I feel a need to do this.
I beat the guys to the pool, take a quick and careful dip, then towel dry and find a chaise to stretch out on. The sun is still fairly high in the sky, and the temperature is perfect. I put on my shades, pull out my novel, and lean back and sigh. Hey, this wasn’t a mistake after all.
The next thing I know Conner is doing a cannonball right in front of me. His splash gets me wet but luckily misses my hair. I towel myself off, then pull my chaise back a safe distance from the pool.
“Conner!” yells Patrick. “You totally soaked Ingrid. Watch it, okay?”
“Okay,” calls Conner as he begins to swim laps. “Sorry ’bout that, Ingrid. I was just trying to scare you.”
Patrick pulls a chaise next to mine, puts his stuff on it, then goes over and eases himself into the pool. And, okay, I may be engaged, but I still have eyes. And I can’t help but look at how well built this guy is. He must work out or something.
“What’cha gaping at, Ingrid?” teases Conner from the pool.
I force a laugh. “I’m not gaping at anything,” I say innocently. “Just spacing out mostly.”
“Yeah, right.” Then Conner acts as if he’s going to splash me but, to my relief, stops himself midway.
I pretend to be absorbed in my book, but while my head is tilted down as if I’m reading, I am actually watching Patrick as he moves about in the pool. And I can’t believe how attracted I am to him. Is something wrong with me?
Final
ly I force myself to focus on the actual words on the page, which suddenly seem rather boring. At the same time I’m feeling totally guilty for being so obsessed with Patrick. I mean, how would that make Jason feel? On the other hand, if I am so easily attracted to someone like Patrick, doesn’t it suggest that my engagement to Jason might be a mistake? Or am I just being incredibly stupid? Besides, someone as hot as Patrick surely has a girlfriend, perhaps even a fiancée. I should ask Jenny for the lowdown on him. Oh, good grief, what am I thinking?
Patrick is getting out now, toweling himself dry by the edge of the pool, I suspect to keep from getting me wet. He’s always been such a thoughtful guy. Then he comes over and sits down next to me.
“Any good?” he asks.
“Huh?” I look up and wonder if he realizes I’ve been watching him.
“The book.”
I shrug. “Yeah, it’s okay. I was mostly trying to relax a little before all the wedding stuff kicks into high gear.” I pick up my watch to see how I’m doing on time.
“Well, isn’t it better relaxing out here than in that stuffy lobby?”
“Much better.”
“So I hear you’re engaged,” he says as he leans back into the chaise. “My congratulations to the lucky guy.”
“Thanks. His name is Jason Wallace, and he should be here anytime now.” I glance over my shoulder as if I really expect to see him walking up. “By the way, kudos to you, too. I heard your mom telling Jenny’s grandma about how you just got this really great job. Way to go.”
“Yeah. I was starting to wonder if my degree was worth the paper it was printed on, but then everything just opened up for me.”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure it was a God thing.”
“Does that mean you’re into God?”
He nods.
“That’s cool.”
We chat a bit more, and I’m amazed at how easy this guy is to talk to. And I’m dying to know if he’s involved with anyone, but I don’t know how to ask without sounding too nosy. Finally I can stand it no longer.
“So how about you?” I say casually. “You dating anyone?”
On This Day Page 7