Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3) (33 page)

Gwen shook her head and sipped her tea. She set down the flowered cup and reached for another sandwich. “It is charming, but it’s time I married a good man. Like Peter.” She nearly choked on the name. In this entire scheme, it was the use of Peter’s name as her fiancé that bothered her the most. She wished she’d thought to use Rand’s name instead.

“Is something wrong, dearest?”

Gwen devoured the crustless sandwich and rallied a smile. “What do you mean?”

Lorraine sniffed. “You’ve told me next to nothing about this fiancé. I wondered for a whole day if he was real. And by the way, you’ve said nothing about the wedding. Will I be invited?”

Gwen covered her pain with a bright smile. “We’ll probably elope. It’s a second marriage for both of us. Perhaps we’ll swing by here on the honeymoon.”

Lorraine crossed her elegant legs and jiggled one foot. “I still don’t understand why you wanted Cady’s Point. Why doesn’t he want to live in your family home?”

“He feels it’s too isolated down that long drive. He has a point.”

“And Cady’s Point is not?”

“Apples and oranges. The road into Cady’s Point is paved and patrolled. There are quite a few homes and estates now on both sides, north and south of your property. My property,” she amended and raised her cup to Lorraine.

Lorraine winked in acknowledgement. “And it doesn’t bother you that my home—your home—on the Point was the scene of a disastrous marriage?”

“I’m planning an exorcism,” Gwen said without thinking.

Lorraine snorted.

“Will you remarry, Lorraine?”

“No.” She nearly spat the word. “Men are takers and deceivers. I’m done with them.”

Gwen studied her friend’s face, wishing there was some way she could help her. But she’d never been able to help Lorraine, except to be her friend.

“Remember when you were in grad school?” Lorraine’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Where was it again?”

“Tufts, Boston.”

“Yes, that’s it. While you were there, we met in New York for a weekend of shopping.”

“We saw some great plays, didn’t we?”

“You always insisted on matinees,” Lorraine scolded, “which cut into our shopping time.” She selected the plumpest of the cheddar and tomato sandwiches and nibbled one corner.

“That was a smashing trip, wasn’t it?” Gwen said. But her brow furrowed.
I don’t remember anything but the plays
.

“Jeb never knew, did he?”

Gwen opened her mouth and closed it again.
Didn’t she and Jeb share everything?

Lorraine gave her a conspiratorial wink. With a throaty chuckle, she said, “Jeb didn’t know a lot of things, did he?”

Lorraine sounded so sure. But Gwen had no recall of secrecy in her marriage.
Maybe she has someone else in mind
. “What are you thinking about?”

“I am remembering how nasty he was when you lived in Boston for six months for your clinical residency. I never understood how you were able to keep the whole thing from him.”

“What ‘whole thing?’”

Lorraine huffed. “That you were getting the doctoral degree and preparing to be a therapist.” She waved a hand. “You kept the whole thing from him. I never understood why or how, Gwen. What did he have against your getting a doctorate and having a career?”

That’s insane. Why would Jeb oppose it, and why would I go to such lengths to hide something like that?
“Ohmigod,” she whispered. The sudden memory was a punch in the stomach. With no thought to editing her response, she answered Lorraine. “Jeb was opposed to my having a career, even though it was important to me.
So I paid for the degree myself and did most of the coursework online without ever telling him.”
Her head throbbed as she added, “But then I had to do my clinical residency in the greater Boston area, for a minimum of six months.”

“Yes, and you somehow convinced Jeb you needed to be in Boston for half a year. Remind me how you did that, you wicked wife.”

When Gwen’s only response was a creased forehead, Lorraine probed, “Don’t tell me you told him you were leaving him?”

“I’d forgotten all of this.” Gwen nodded. “We’d been fighting a lot. I don’t know why.”

“I know why,” Lorraine said. “He was a player, Gwen.”

“Was he?”
Why doesn’t that shock me? That should shock me.

“Of course he was. He even came on to me once. I set him straight, in the name of our friendship.” Lorraine’s chuckle was sardonic. “He thought it was quaint.”

Gwen swallowed hard. Another flash of memory threatened to send the egg and cress back up. She focused on the pattern in the Oriental carpet and breathed through the nausea.

Lorraine’s forehead wrinkled with worry at the silence. “Dearest, I didn’t tell you then about his come-on, because I didn’t want to hurt you. Surely after all this time, it doesn’t matter, does it? If, as you claim, you didn’t know he was a player, whatever were the two of you fighting about?” She took another nibble of her sandwich.

“Jeb was obsessed with making partner.” Gwen heard the bitterness in her own voice, and it made her shudder. “He wanted me to forego a career and serve him hand and foot. He expected me to entertain his clients, which I was glad to do. But when he ordered me to flirt with his senior partners, I was uncomfortable. And then he made it clear he expected me to sleep with them on demand.” Gwen voice shook with old fury.

“Sleep with them?” Lorraine dumped the rest of the sandwich on her plate. “That’s outrageous.” She extended a hand. “You’re shaking, Gwen.”

Gwen had blocked this from consciousness since Jeb’s death. The trouble had started when they were first married. Too embarrassed to talk with her parents or to seek counseling, she had drunk more and more heavily, in a futile effort to deal with it. Over several years, she had doggedly pursued her own career preparation, intending to divorce Jeb once she’d established her own practice.

When she had completed the Ph.D., she joined a group practice at Clifton Springs, in connection with the drug and alcohol rehab there. In fact, her proximity to the program had led her to question her own drinking and to get sober. As for divorcing Jeb, he’d saved her the bother, by dying.

At Gwen’s continued silence, Lorraine said, “I knew there was trouble between you and Jeb, but I had no idea it was that serious. I rather thought you hadn’t known the dark side of marriage. I actually envied you, Gwen.”

Gwen met Lorrain’s gaze. “Jeb and I were married six years, and I started seeing the dark side in year one. Jeb lived on the edge. He loved risk, and he thought he was being oh-so-discreet with his affairs.” She took a long swallow of lukewarm tea. Her cup clanged when she set it in the saucer. She flattened her hand against the arm of the chair to stop its shaking.

“Once he understood I was not going to support his career in quite the way he planned, we lived essentially separate lives. I agreed, for appearance’s sake, to stay married until he made partner. In exchange, he left me alone. He only got nasty about my living Boston for so long, because his partners had a fit about it.”

She’d never talked about Jeb’s infidelity or his demands. She hadn’t even allowed herself to think about it.
Why now? Why here?

“Gwen,” Lorraine said sharply, “answer me.”

“I’m sorry, what?” She had missed the question.

“I said that’s absurd. It’s completely unlike you to let someone walk all over you. Why did you?”

Gwen had no defense. “I’m not proud of it,” she said. “I was drinking when it started. When I realized what his game was, I saw how he was made. Putting my foot down was not going to change that. I chose to focus on the degree, on establishing my practice, and on staying sober. That’s what I needed, and it was all I could handle.” She tested her hands and found they had steadied themselves. She licked her lips and finished the story. “Then he played hero and died.”

“Well,” Lorraine said with a smug smile, “you won in the end.” She lifted her cup in salute. “His death netted you a few million to play with. I’m glad I could help you spend three million this week, Gwen dearest.”

I need to bring this to a close.
She put on a smile. “Don’t forget we’re meeting in Paris next November.”

Lorraine laughed. “We’ll take Paris by storm.”

“Listen, my good friend, you know my flight is at the crack of dawn, and I desperately need an early-to-bed. Can your driver take me to the train station now?”

“What? Why, of course. I wasn’t watching the time.” She pressed a button on the remote at her right hand. “You always were the sensible one, Gwen.”

Relieved, Gwen smoothed a few feathers, “Today has been such fun, seeing your magnificent estate, first hand, and spending time with Alex and Chipper. How they’ve grown!”

Lorraine puffed out her chest. “They are the loves of my life.” Her smile radiated a mother’s pride.

She does love them, and this life seems to work for all three of them
. “I’ll see myself out. Don’t get up.” Gwen pasted on a smile and walked on shaky legs to her friend’s chair. “I want to remember you sitting, just like this, in your exquisite library.”

Chapter 16

“Justin met me at a meeting in London that night. We flew back together and got into Tompkins Falls at some ungodly hour. Thanks for meeting me so early.” Gwen glanced at the clock over Lynnie’s head. She and Deirdre had talked almost half an hour already, and it was not quite six thirty. The breakfast regulars would arrive in a few minutes.

Deirdre sat back, mug in hand, and shook her head. “I knew there was something—some unfinished business with Jeb. Dating all those Jeb-look-alikes, you were trying to ‘screw Jeb’ over and over, and I thought it was that you missed him terribly.” She drained her mug. “You had yourself fooled, too.”

“Yes, exactly. The pieces are still falling into place for me. It wasn’t just the streak of dating last summer, before Peter. I remember the same pattern right after Jeb died. I guess I was recreating the past, wanting the outcome to be different. Why didn’t I see that?”

“You had no idea before your talk with Lorraine?”

Gwen examined the backs of her hands and touched her empty ring finger. “Other than some odd discomfort when I mentioned Jeb to Peter, no, I had no clue.” She shook her head. “During my marriage, I kept Jeb’s affairs a secret from everyone. And I never breathed a word about the way he intended to exploit me in his bid for partnership in his law firm. I didn’t want to believe it was happening, that my marriage was a sham and that my husband saw me as a whore.”

“Don’t say that, Gwen.” Deirdre shuddered.

“That’s how it felt. Drinking helped me block it all out. And when I stopped drinking, I kept it blocked out by putting all my energy into my practice.” She blew out her breath. “And when he died, I buried all of it with him.”

Deirdre’s index finger traced a crack down the side of her mug.

“How does that saying go?” Gwen said, “‘We’re as sick as our secrets.’ And I was keeping secrets from myself, along with everyone else.”

“Being honest with yourself is sometimes hardest of all.”

“But when I wasn’t honest with Peter . . .” Gwen shifted in her chair and flung an arm over the back. “I can’t blame that on Jeb.”

“No, you’re right. Still, I think what happened with Peter has everything to do with the bad habits you developed during your ill-fated marriage.”

“I hope you can explain that, because I have no idea how they connect.”

“Think about it.” Deirdre leaned toward Gwen and tapped the table. “You kept your entire doctoral degree from Jeb. That’s the antithesis of healthy spousal communication. When you’re accustomed to operating that way in a marriage, it’s a simple matter to keep your alcoholism and recovery off the table with someone you’re dating, especially when you and Peter had so much else competing for your time and attention. And you knew it was a hot button for him.” Deirdre opened her hands.

“So, you’re saying, I had a history of hiding the truth, and Peter’s attitude made it attractive to hide a big truth from him.” She wrinkled her face. “Pretty screwed up.”

“You wanted to have a good time with Peter, you said it yourself. But sooner or later, if you wanted a serious relationship, you had to get honest with each other. Peter expected honesty right from the start, and he practiced it right from the start. You never got there.” She folded her hands. “Hello, heartache.”

“I owe him such a huge amend.” Gwen squeezed her eyes shut. “What am I saying? He’ll never give me the chance to make it right.”

“Well,” Deirdre said as she stood up and stretched, “all I know is I’m out of coffee, and I need food. What can I get you?”

“My stomach needs something.” She thought of the two finger sandwiches she’d wolfed down in Lorraine’s library. “It’s been more hours than I can calculate with this jet lag. How about a hot breakfast?”

Deirdre wove through the jumble of empty tables to the register, where she had a murmured conversation with Lynnie. Lynnie handed two menus to Deirdre, then shot a quick smile at Gwen and smoothed down her green-and-cream striped apron.

“Thanks, Lynnie,” Gwen called, “for letting us in before you officially opened today.”

“Couldn’t let the two of you freeze out in your car, could I?”

“I owe you big time.” Gwen blew her a kiss.

Instead of running along the willow path in the frigid rain, Peter dropped by the Bagel Depot after his shift. He took his bagel egg and cheese sandwich to a table as far away from Tony and Sam as he could manage.

Halfway through his meal, though, Sam sat in the chair across from him and slapped the morning paper on the table between them. Peter started. “Something I need to read?”

Sam pointed his finger at one of the Notices.

Peter skimmed it once, frowned, read it again and sat back. “Where did she get three million dollars?”

“And what is she planning to do with Cady’s Point?” Tony asked as he dragged another chair to the table.

Peter sat back. “Well, that one I might be able to answer.”

Deirdre rushed off to an early meeting, leaving Gwen alone at the table with their eggy dishes. Gwen stretched her back and wiggled her shoulders. She sipped her coffee until her headache finally faded away.

“Gwen, join Manda and me for one last cup of coffee, will you?” Joel asked.

“Hey, hi.” She stood and gave him a hug. “I have news for you, so, sure. Where are you sitting?”

“Here,” he said with a chuckle. “If you don’t mind. All the tables are filled.”

Gwen noticed the energetic crowd and wondered how she had missed the influx.

“Sure,” Gwen agreed. “Let me take these dishes to—”

“I’ve got them,” Manda cut her off. “Relax.”

“I’ve never see this place so wild on a Tuesday morning,” Joel remarked as he settled in the chair across from Gwen. “Are you jet-lagged? When I saw Haley a few days ago, she said you were on a shopping spree in London.”

“She’s right, as far as she knows.”

“What were you really doing?”

Manda slipped into her chair and asked, “Doing where? London?”

“London.”

“Justin was in London for a few days, too,” Manda said. “Did you run into him?”

“As a matter of fact,” Gwen told them both, “Justin and I met at an AA meeting last night near Victoria Station, and Lyssa and her boyfriend Kyle were there, too.”

“My sister Lyssa?” Manda gasped. “You saw her? How does she look? Is she okay? Is the guy cute?”

“He’s handsome and sexy, she’s sober and well, and she looks like a million dollars. What is she doing in London, anyway?”

“She’s got a post-doctoral fellowship at the university Justin teaches for,” Manda said. “She’s making TV spots about financial literacy for women. It’s a big research project. Justin planned to spend some time with her, and I’m dying to hear what he has to say. Is he back, Joel?”

“He’s back.” Joel wore a secretive smile. Instead of making eye contact with Gwen, though, he glanced around the room.

Tease. Does he already know about the purchase of Cady’s Point?

“From everything I’ve seen online, Lyssa’s making a name for herself,” Joel said, his face a picture of innocence.

“She never let on about any of that,” Gwen told them. “Actually she talked mostly to Justin, and I chatted up the boyfriend Kyle. I like him. And I promise you, Manda, I will scour my memory for details once I’ve had a good night’s sleep. Let’s go to a meeting together this week and catch up.”

“You’re on.”

“Thanks, Lynnie,” Joel said when Lynnie brought two menus and two full mugs of coffee for them. “So,” he said pointedly to Gwen, “did you see Lorraine?” Joel’s wink confirmed that he knew the news.

“Do we have to talk about Lorraine?” Manda groaned and sipped her coffee.

Gwen leaned across the table, cupped her mouth, and whispered to Joel, “Did you set up this chance meeting so I had the honor of breaking it to her?”

“It’s in the newspaper,” he whispered back. “I wanted Manda to hear it from you.”

“Why are you guys whispering?” Manda set down her coffee mug hard.

Gwen smiled at Joel and scooted her chair closer to Manda. “While I was in London with Lorraine, Manda,” she said, enunciating each word, “I bought Cady’s Point from her, with Justin’s help, so you can build your holistic rehab center right where you want it.”

Manda’s face drained of color, and then her cheeks flamed. “Oh. My. God,” she shrilled. She leapt from her chair and grabbed Gwen in a bone-crushing hug.

Conversation ceased at Lynnie’s Chestnut Lake Café.

Friday afternoon, Rick gripped his Android, tapped in the phone number, and waited a few seconds to be sure he was alone. The house was quiet except for a faint conversation upstairs. Gwen’s purchases from London had arrived, and Haley and Gwen were checking them out in Gwen’s bedroom. A bubbling laugh—Haley’s—made him smile.

He pressed ‘send.’ After two rings, a familiar voice answered, “Hello?”

“Yeah, uh, Peter, this is Rick Walker, Haley’s friend from RPI.” Rick held his breath.

A moment of silence, then a friendly, “Hey, Rick, what’s up?”

Rick exhaled in relief. “Just in town for Thanksgiving, ate way too much pumpkin pie yesterday and wondered if you wanted to shoot some baskets?”

“Sure, come to my place and we’ll walk over to the park.”

Rick’s face split in a grin. “Great, where’s your place?”

“I’m renting that apartment Justin Cushman showed me the day you and I shot baskets. Great place. I owe you.” Peter’s voice had energy now.

Rick searched his memory. That was the day Justin met him on the way back to the car and told him he and his wife knew someone who might adopt the baby. He couldn’t remember anything about an apartment that Justin showed Peter, but the street name popped into his head. “Lakeside Terrace, right next to the park?”

“Right.”

“On my way, man.” Rick pumped his fist in the air.
One shot to get them back together
.

Peter set the phone down and reached for a mug. With steaming coffee in hand, he stepped onto the gingerbread-embellished porch off his living room.

He never tired of the view. This afternoon Chestnut Lake was steel gray and still, not a breeze ruffling its metallic surface. Without his permission, his eyes focused on Gwen’s property across the lake. He saw a car crawl away from the garage and disappear into the half-mile of woods between the house and the road.

With a noisy slurp, he speculated about Rick’s agenda. The last thing he wanted was to talk about Gwen. He would
not
be pressured into meeting with her. But he’d like to know how Haley and Rick and their baby were doing. Haley was one special young woman, a lot like Bree.

Peter laughed, and a puff of vapor rose into the frigid air.
Maybe Rick just needs to get away from the women and do some guy stuff
. That suited him. He hadn’t shot baskets since he quit the team a month ago.
Stupid ass move
.

When Tony had come to the table at the Bagel Depot last Tuesday, Peter half-hoped they’d talk about him coming back to the team, but the conversation had been all about Cady’s Point and speculation about Gwen intention for the land.

One short, cold minute on the porch in his thick navy CUSE sweatshirt was enough. Back inside, he closed and locked the porch door, placed his coffee mug in the sink and began the hunt for his basketball gear.

After ransacking the guest room with no luck, he turned to the entryway. He tore apart the hall closet and found his sneakers buried under his duffle bag, behind his hanging clothes. He remembered stuffing them there the night he’d walked off the court.

He hauled the bag to the laundry area off the guest bathroom, flipped up the lid of the washer, unzipped the duffle and pinched his nose shut with two fingers. He upended the duffle so the contents spilled into the tub. Shorts, sweat-stained T-shirts, wrinkled towels, three pungent pairs of socks. Still holding his nose, he splashed in detergent and bleach and slammed the lid shut. He dialed the temperature to hot and the cycle to extra soak. He stood a moment listening to the water gurgle into the tub. He’d wear sweats and the sneakers to go with Rick to the park.

I wish the rest of my problems could be fixed that easy.

As soon as he let go of his nose, the smell was on him again. How had he not noticed the reeking duffle bag in all the times he’d used that closet? He flung the duffle out the porch door and left it to air. If he was lucky, the stink might be gone by spring.

He slammed the door shut and twisted the deadbolt.
God, Shaughnessy, you really lost it last month
.

“How is the baby?” Peter asked. They’d exhausted small talk about sports on the walk to the court. Rick hadn’t said a word about Gwen, so Peter relaxed, pretty sure Rick wasn’t here on a mission to get them back together. Fleeting disappointment followed that thought, but he pushed it away.

“Thanks for asking.” Rick bounced the ball a few times and tossed it to Peter. “He’s getting tall. We just got new pictures from the Hahns. His hair is coming in blond like mine, and he’ll have Haley’s dark brown eyes. He’s healthy, and things are going well for them as a family.”

Peter spun the ball on one finger. “You know, I’m glad you and Haley followed through with the adoption. I was worried both of you would drop out of college, and that would have been a crime.”