Life After Perfect (10 page)

She unwrapped a small disc of soap from a tray of them next to the tub. The wrapper, a simple square of fabric, had been held together by a round sticker that boasted a local farm, Just Kidding Goat’s Milk Baa-aath Bar.

She held the soap to her nose—like honeysuckle on a warm summer night. She swished the soap in the water, then slipped it into the washcloth and gave it a twist; tiny bubbles oozed into a rich creamy lather. It felt smooth on her skin.

She lay there until the water went cool. A renewed spirit trying to rise from the broken mess.

Time. Time is what she needed.

She stepped out of the bath feeling relaxed. She toweled off, catching a glimpse of herself. A beautiful old mirror stood strong and tall, like a lover, in the corner of the bathroom. Watching her.

Katy lowered her eyes, and then looked up again. The ornate wooden frame, mahogany maybe, held twisting vines captive in its delicate carvings. The glass was wavy, but even so her body seemed unfamiliar. Her tummy was still flat, but gone were the days when at this time of year, she’d have been tan, with lines where her bathing suit would have been. No, now her skin was one continuous canvas of ivory that hadn’t been kissed by the sun in at least two years.

She hugged the towel close to her body. Naomi sure didn’t scrimp on linens. Everything about this place was very high end. The towel was not only soft, and thick, but it was big enough to dry two people at once. She grabbed two ends and tied a quick knot, then twisted it and looped it over her head like a sarong as she walked back into the bedroom.

She pulled on a pair of light blue panties, then dropped the towel to pull her nightgown over her head. It fell over her rosewater-soft skin in a gentle swoosh.

Katy hung her towel over the bar in the bathroom, turned out the lights, and slipped between the covers.

She whispered a prayer into the darkness, “Oh, Heavenly Father, please give me the strength to fill my thoughts with the right things. I’m sorry for judging others. I’m trying so hard not to solely focus on the wrongdoings. I know exactly how Peggy felt now, but also know that being in a relationship with someone who is not committed to me is not how you meant marriage to be. Please help me find the right answers.”

With tears on her pillow, she closed her eyes and was asleep before the water made its final gurgle down the drain.

Chapter Nine

Katy sat up and hung her legs over the side of the bed. From the edge of the bed she could see her reflection in the mirror. She swept a hand through her hair. It had curled from the dampness of the bath. She sat up, thinking she should’ve have blown it straight before she’d slept because there’d be no taming it now.

Ron had always preferred her hair sleek and straight. All the more reason to let it go. She fluffed her fingers through her hair. “Good enough.”

She grabbed for her phone and checked the time. To her surprise she’d only slept a couple of hours, but boy, had she slept hard.

After applying a little bit of makeup to cover up the sleep lines on her face, she dressed in capri pants and a flowered, short-sleeved white blouse. She cinched her belt, and ran her hands down the front of the pants to smooth the fold lines.

The door to her room creaked when she opened it. She hadn’t taken Naomi up on the offer for a tour, so she just quietly wandered out to the main part of the house.

Other than the guests Naomi had mentioned, she had no idea how many others were staying at the inn, although there had been a couple cars parked out front.

She backtracked to the entrance and then walked through the house toward the soft sound of music. Country music.

The dining room was empty, but the table was set. The long table would have been overwhelming in a normal-sized dining room, but the room was more like a ballroom. As it was, the table felt like the one in the Last Supper. You could probably seat as many as sixteen or more quite comfortably, but this evening there were only five place settings around one end of the table. One at the head and two on each side.

As she stood there, a couple and their daughter walked into the dining room.

“Good evening,” she said as the family joined her at the table. “I’m Katy. It’s my first time here.”

The woman, who looked to be in her mid-fifties, said, “Hi there. I’m Anne. Naomi was telling us she had another guest. If it’s your first time, it won’t be your last. Right, Sam?”

Her husband nodded.

“First time in this area, in fact.” Katy settled into one of the chairs with an empty place setting. “I’m traveling alone. Will Naomi join us?”

“No. Don’t think I’ve ever seen her eat. She’ll come visit with us, though.” The woman pulled her lips into a thin line, and glanced toward the kitchen door, lowering her voice. “That seat would be for Naomi’s grandniece, Kelly Jo. She probably won’t make it for any meals.” The woman leaned forward and whispered, “She has cancer. Very fragile.”

Katy’s heart clutched. “I’m so sorry to hear. I didn’t know.”

“Poor thing was here the last time we came through. How long ago was that, Sam?” The woman looked to her husband, who was a bit older and had a distinguished speckle of salt in his peppered hair, for concurrence.

“Just back in May.”

“Yeah, Naomi says she’s really taken a turn for the worse.”

“It’s an awful disease.”

Anne nodded. “So now you know. We stop here every year on our way up to see my parents. More often if we get the chance. Where are my manners? This is my husband, Sam, and our daughter, Rachel.”

The daughter rolled her eyes at her mom’s chatting. Clearly visiting her grandparents wasn’t at the top of her list for summer vacations.

Katy extended her hand across the table to Sam. “Katherine. Katy. Everyone calls me Katy.”

The girl plopped an elbow on the table, and then pulled it down when she caught the side glance from her father as he shook Katy’s hand.

Anne looked like she’d had that attitude from her daughter about one too many times already, but even as aggravating as it must have been, Katy was envious of the family.

Anne tore her stare from her daughter. “So what brings you to town, Katy?”

“Just passing through. I’m on an extended vacation.”

Anne seemed to be waiting for more, but Katy wasn’t about to start spilling her guts to complete strangers, so she just let the silence hang.

“When did you get in?” Sam asked.

“Earlier today.”

Rachel got up and started roaming around the room.

Naomi whisked into the room with a tea service. “Tea, my dears?”

She filled the cups without a dribble or a splash, then moved a lovely ruby-red Depression glass tray from the sideboard to the table. “Fresh cream, local honey, and sugar and a pretty rainbow of all the fake kinds of sweet stuff the business types love to use.” She gave them a big wink. “Me. I’m just a good old-fashioned sugar girl.”

“You are after my heart, aren’t you, Naomi,” Sam said.

“I know you like the blue packets, Sam.” She gave his back a little rub and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m so glad you were able to make me part of your travels again. It’s so good to see y’all. Rachel, you are more beautiful every time I lay eyes on you.”

Anne gave her daughter a glare from across the table.

“Thank you,” Rachel said with only a halfhearted smile and plopped back down in her chair.

Naomi winked at the parents. “I’m not serving juice tonight, because I made a wonderful berry French toast dish. Juice would just make you pucker. So what’s your pleasure? You sticking with tea or is anyone up for milk? I’ve got white or chocolate.”

Sam and Anne both said, “Tea.”

“Milk for me,” Katy said. “Chocolate.”

Rachel looked at her with some surprise. “Chocolate moo juice for me, too.”

“Great.” Naomi extended two fingers on each hand as if to help her remember their preferences by the time she got back to the kitchen. “Give me just a minute and I’ll get you all served up.”

Sam took a sip of his tea. “If you’re going to be here for any time at all, you have to go on the watershed project hike along the creek. It’s a good workout, and the scenery is peaceful.”

Anne’s face lit up. “Yes. It’s amazing. We even saw an eagle when we went last time. Didn’t we, Sam?”

“We did, and if you’re looking for some good southern cooking for dinner one night, go to the Blue Skies Cafe.”

Rachel nodded. “Oh, yeah. That place is off the hook. Best fried chicken in the world. But be prepared to wait for it. It takes them like a half hour to cook it.”

“Worth it,” Sam said.

Katy just nodded and listened, committing the suggestions to memory. An all-American family. She’d never get Ron to stay at a B&B. He was too impatient to conform to the schedule, and way too much in a hurry to just meet and mingle with new folks.

Naomi came back in, a sweet scent following along. She slid the strawberry French toast casserole into the center of the table. She then left and came back out and put a warm carafe of maple syrup in front of Rachel.

“Can you serve, Katy?” Naomi asked as she disappeared once again into the kitchen.

Katy took the silver serving spatula and carved a slice, then reached for Sam’s plate. Once everyone had a nice portion, Katy took a small serving for herself.

Naomi pushed backward through the kitchen door, carrying the two chocolate milks. “Anything else I can get you kids?”

“Not a thing.” Katy put a forkful of the strawberry French toast into her mouth. “Oh, Naomi! Nell was right. You do make an amazing breakfast. Even if it is dinnertime. Thank you for this. I was really hungry.”

“That’s what brings pleasure to my heart, young lady.”

They all dug in and Katy was thankful the idle chitchat slowed to a halt.

As soon as she was done, she excused herself under the guise of needing to make a few phone calls and took a cup of tea out to the porch off of her room.

Out of habit she’d tucked her phone into her pocket. She sat down in a blue rocker next to a pot of bright-red geraniums, placing her teacup on the small nail keg that served as a side table, and began to look through her messages. Shaleigh had called. She listened to her voice mail, which told Katy to check her email for some details.

Katy flipped through the email messages to find the one Shaleigh referred to.

There were a few papers to sign, and then Shaleigh went on to advise her that she should call and let Ron know why she’d left and what her intentions were.

Katy slouched in her seat. The last thing she wanted to do was talk to him about this, but the reason she’d called Shaleigh was because she was the best doggone divorce lawyer around. It wouldn’t do her any good not to follow her advice.

She plucked a geranium bloom from the pot and twisted it between her fingers.

She responded to Shaleigh’s email.

Shaleigh
,

Sorry I missed your call. I’ll get these papers filled out and back to you tonight. Meanwhile, I’m staying at the Lonesome Pines Inn in Boot Creek, North Carolina. Have not told anyone else where I am, but if you can’t get me on my phone . . . call here.

I’ll make sure Ron knows what I know before he hits his desk Monday morning. Should get interesting.

Katherine

She put her phone facedown in her lap, then pushed off the porch floor with her foot and let the rocker do its thing, move at the speed it wanted to. It was soothing. Her phone vibrated and she flipped it over to look at the text message. Short and sweet. From Shaleigh.

Take care,
sweetie
.

Katy’s skin grew clammy. Probably more a symptom of the situation than the warm weather, but she went back inside to try to cool off.

She took the little cross-stitched
DO NOT DISTURB
sign from the back of the door. Katy admired the handiwork, and thought about hanging it out on the crystal doorknob, but the truth was, that email from Shaleigh had amped her up.

It wouldn’t take long to fill out the papers. She had most of the information in the stuff that Peggy had told her to grab. She grabbed her laptop and sat cross-legged on the bed. As her fingernails clicked against the keyboard, she had a little satisfaction in knowing she was taking a solid step toward some kind of end to this matter.

By the time she’d completed the forms, the sun was setting, and although that French toast had been delicious, she felt snacky. No surprise; stress usually did that to her, only she didn’t have a stash of comfort food with her.

There had been plenty of comfort food at that blackberry festival. Part of her wanted to stay in bed until everything was behind her, but she knew that wasn’t about to happen. Surely, gorging herself on comfort food wasn’t going to be a long-term solution. Even a festival full of it might not be enough to conquer the emotional beating she’d taken, but it was better than wallowing in self-pity. “Think long, think wrong.” Daddy had always said that about things. Of course, it may have been his way of surviving in a house with three women all those years.

It was a weird feeling to be able to just get up and go out without having anyone to answer to. Maybe there would be some plusses to her new situation. She grabbed her keys and headed out. She had a good sense of direction, and essentially it was only two turns back to where the festival was.

The roads had turned dark. No streetlights in this little town. It made her appreciate the nicely finished roads and lights of her neighborhood back home.

There were a lot of decisions to make—where she would live, what kind of place it would be. She loved having a house and a yard, but they required a lot of upkeep. Was she really ready to handle that all on her own? On one income, even if it was a good one, was it smart to spend money on a landscaper when she should be tucking it away for retirement?

Thinking of her dad cutting Jacqueline’s yard made her cringe. She’d never ask that of him, no matter what.

She drove to the same church where she’d parked that morning and pulled up to the parking attendant.

He pointed to her parking pass from before, and waved her through.

“A deal.” She didn’t get as good a spot this time, though.

She texted Peggy.

KATHERINE
:
Just checking in on you.

PEGGY:
Awww. Thanks. I’m okay. It’s crazy here. No one’s talking to me. Silent treatment is deafening.

KATHERINE
:
Shaleigh got things started on my end. I’m at a blackberry festival. Go figure.

PEGGY:
First day of the rest of your life, girl. I’m living vicariously through you. Have a ball!

KATHERINE:
Hugs.

The first day of the rest of my life.

What did that even mean? It sounded a bit overwhelming, but she took multimillion-dollar projects from totally offtrack back to success. How was this so different? If she could just take the emotion out of it and break everything down into tasks, she should be just fine. Just one more project, albeit a personal one.

“I’m young. Smart. Successful. I will be fine.” And with that she got out of the car and headed to the festival again.

Earlier there’d been a mishmash wave of weird-wonderful music—rock, country, bluegrass, and some new age stuff all mingled together, alternately taking over the lead as she’d moved by the row of multicolored tents and displays.

Tonight, a single flow of music rolled in like a tide the closer she got to the action.

She hadn’t noticed the strands of lights overhead as she’d walked down the streets this afternoon, but now the strings of blackberry-blue colored lights strung across the road between the merchants like tightropes were aglow like psychedelic stars.

The song “Hot Hot Hot” by Buster Poindexter suddenly filled the air and Katy clapped as a conga line started forming right in front of her. She laughed and continued to clap, singing along. She made her way to a tent and bought a glass of blackberry wine.

“Four dollars,” the bartender said.

She handed him a five and took a sip. “That’s great!” She danced her way back to watch the fun in the streets with her glass. Way better than being huddled up in the fetal position.

The black-light effect of those blackberry lights made her white blouse glow. There was something about black lights and wine that could buoy your mood on any day. Maybe she should buy a case of those purple bulbs.