Mending Fences (4 page)

In an attempt to avert a scene, she stood up and walked over to the pool. “Evan, Caitlyn, you heard your father,” she said quietly. “Settle down.”

“We’re just having fun, Mom,” Caitlyn said, wiping her wet hair out of her face and looking up.

“You can have fun
quietly,
” Marcie said.

Evan scowled up at her. “Who put you in charge?” he asked belligerently. “We’re in Mr. and Mrs. D’s pool.”

Behind her, Marcie heard a chair scrape back. She froze, terrified that Ken was about to cause exactly the kind of commotion she’d been hoping to avoid. Instead, though, it was Emily who came up and slipped an arm through hers.

“Evan, that’s no way to speak to your mother,” Emily scolded gently. “And the decibel level is getting pretty loud. Maybe you guys should take a break and go inside for a while. We picked up a bunch of movies earlier today. Josh, why don’t you make some popcorn?”

“Sure, Mom,” he said with easygoing acceptance. He immediately climbed out of the pool and wrapped himself in a towel. “Come on, Evan, I got that action movie we missed.”

Evan gave Marcie one last scowl, but he followed Josh inside.

“Thanks,” Marcie said, when the kids were gone. “I don’t know why he listens to you but ignores everything I say.”

“Most kids would rather obey any other adult than their own parents,” Emily said. “I see it at school all the time. They’ll be sullen and unresponsive with their mom or dad, then turn right around and be sunny and polite to me.”

Marcie hesitated, then asked, “Evan’s never sassed you, has he?”

“Never,” Emily said.

“If he ever does, I want you to send him straight home. Don’t tolerate it, okay?”

“I will, but it’s never been a problem. I swear it. You’re a good mom, Marcie. Don’t ever question that. And both your kids are terrific.”

Marcie forced a grin. “Do you think if kids are this much trouble now, we’ll survive their teenage years?”

“Of course, we will. We’ll still be bigger and stronger—for a while anyway—and we’ll gang up on ’em,” Emily assured her. “Come on. Let’s go inside and put together that strawberry shortcake you brought over. My mouth’s been watering since you got here. I love strawberry season, don’t you?”

Marcie finally relaxed. “I drove down to the fields to get these. They were huge and sweet as candy.” She leaned in and confided, “I had a fresh strawberry shake while I was there.”

Emily laughed. “If you’re going to make that drive then you have to have a shake. It’s a rule. Maybe we can take the kids down to the Everglades next weekend and go for a hike on one of the trails. We can stop for a shake on the way back.”

“A hike?” Marcie asked warily. “Won’t there be bugs?”

“Not this time of year. Just alligators,” Emily teased, trying and failing to hide a grin.

“Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“Come on,” Emily said. “The boys will love it.”

“And the rest of us?” Marcie asked, still skeptical.

“Will survive by thinking about the strawberry shake we’ll have afterward.”

“Aren’t men supposed to take their sons on outings like that?” Marcie asked.

Emily merely stared at her. “Derek and Ken? You have to be kidding.”

Marcie gave in to the urge to laugh. “You have a point, though I’d pay big money to see it.”

“Me, too,” Emily agreed, handing her two dishes piled high with shortcake topped with huge strawberries and a mound of whipped cream, then picking up a tray with the other bowls herself. “Let’s go sweeten them up with dessert. Who knows what we’ll be able to talk them into after that.”

Paula, Emily’s favorite coworker at school, had just undergone breast cancer surgery and it had all of the female teachers jittery. There was a sudden interest in breast self-exams and a flurry of appointments being made for mammograms.

Shaken more than she liked admitting, Emily came home from visiting Paula at the hospital and headed straight for Marcie’s, where the coffee was waiting, along with a sympathetic ear.

“How is she?” Marcie asked.

“Scared to death,” Emily told her. “The surgery’s almost the least of it. They want to do both radiation and chemo. She’s looking at a long, tough road with unpredictable results.”

They both fell silent.

“Did you call and make an appointment for a mammogram?” Emily asked eventually.

“First thing this morning,” Marcie told her. “My appointment’s for next week. You?”

“I’m scheduled to go in next week, too. I thought we were too young to be worrying about this. We’re only thirty-two, for crying out loud. I thought we had years before we had to start getting tested, but Paula’s only thirty-three. If she hadn’t found that lump, she’d never have known. She teaches the health and PE classes at school, so she’s the one woman who’s on top of these things.” She frowned. “I just hope to God it wasn’t too late.”

“Don’t even think like that,” Marcie admonished. “She’s going to be fine. She’s tough.”

Emily nodded. “And her husband’s been a real rock so far. Dave’s been by her side every step of the way, bless him, and I don’t see that changing.”

“I knew I liked him when you had them over for dinner last year during the holidays,” Marcie said. “And I’ve enjoyed getting together with Paula at your house to talk about books. She and I have the same taste and she always knows when the good books are being released and gives me a heads-up. I’m so glad you introduced us.”

“Maybe you could return the favor while she’s recuperating, take her a few books from time to time. She turns her nose up when I try to get her to read the classics.”

“Probably because she had to read them all in school. Now a good mystery, that’s always fresh.”

“Murder and mayhem, you mean,” Emily said. “I’ve seen your to-be-read pile. I don’t know how you sleep at night after you read that stuff.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sakes, I’m not reading thrillers about serial killers,” Marcie retorted. “They’re cozy mysteries with amateur sleuths. Hardly a drop of blood anywhere. It’s all about solving the crime.”

“Whatever,” Emily said, grinning at the defensive note in her voice. “I love teasing you about your reading material.”

“Really? Don’t think I don’t know about the stash of romance novels you have hidden under your stacks of Charles Dickens and Jane Austen,” Marcie countered.

Emily flushed. “How do you know about those?”

“Caitlyn, of course. She and Dani have been sneaking them to read.”

“I swear, I am going to kill my daughter,” Emily grumbled. “As my child, she’s supposed to be reading great literature.”

“She’s ten,” Marcie noted, her lips twitching.

“Well, there are plenty of great children’s books for that age.”

“Obviously her taste is as varied as her mom’s. Just be grateful she’s reading at all.”

“I should be, shouldn’t I?” Emily said, then sighed, her thoughts returning to their sick friend. “Can you think of anything else we should be doing for Paula?”

“Besides being there for her?” Marcie said. “I imagine that’s what she needs most—friends who will stick by her, take her to appointments, whatever. If you see her again before I do, tell her I’ll do that, by the way. I’m free most days. I can take her anywhere she needs to go.”

“She’ll appreciate that, I know. Now I’d better get home and think about getting dinner on the table.”

“I knew you’d be running late today, so I made an extra lasagna, if you want it.”

“Have I mentioned lately what an angel you are? What would I do without you?”

“Starve?” Marcie inquired wryly.

Emily grinned. “Not as long as half the restaurants in the neighborhood deliver, but you do give my children an opportunity to experience a home-cooked meal from time to time. For that, I am eternally grateful.”

Marcie chuckled. “So are they. Dani asked me the other day if I could teach her to boil water so she’d know more than mommy.”

“Ha-ha,” Emily retorted. “Very funny.”

“Well, she did,” Marcie insisted. “Seriously, both girls want me to give them cooking lessons.”

Emily shrugged. “Then by all means, go for it. Let me know if Dani’s any good at it. If she is, maybe I’ll be able to stay out of the kitchen altogether.”

“You hate cooking that much?” Marcie asked, her expression incredulous.

“I hate most things I’m lousy at. Cooking tops the list. Sewing’s a close second with household organization right on their heels.”

“All my favorite things,” Marcie said. “How on earth did we ever become such good friends?”

“Proximity?” Emily suggested. “And the fact that you’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever known.”

Marcie grinned. “Ditto. Now let me get you that lasagna.”

She handed Emily a baking dish big enough to supply dinner for at least three nights.

“Are you sure you didn’t confuse my family with Josh’s Little League team?”

“You’ll have leftovers for another night,” Marcie said. “Want some cookies for the kids’ lunches?”

“Good heavens, no! I still have the ones you sent home with me yesterday. You need to take a day off from baking.”

“And do what?” Marcie asked with an expression that said she honestly had no idea what she’d do with herself.

“Spend the day with Paula,” Emily suggested at once. “And take a few dozen cookies to the nurses, so they’ll treat her right.”

Marcie’s face lit up. “I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.”

“Give her another hug from me and tell her we miss her at school. Let her know I’ll stop by the hospital after work with all the gossip.”

Marcie walked outside with her. “She’s going to be okay, you know.”

“I know,” Emily said automatically as she slipped through the opening Josh had cut in the hedge between the houses. She just wished she could believe it.

E
mily had barely left the house, when Marcie heard the garage door open and realized Ken was home, hours earlier than usual. Her stomach immediately tied itself into knots. Whatever had brought him home at this hour couldn’t possibly be good. Still, she took a quick look at herself in a mirror to check her hair and makeup, then plastered a smile on her face as she waited for him.

When he finally came inside, his tie was askew, his collar open and, if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d been drinking. Her smile immediately faltered.

“Ken, what’s wrong?”

“The bastards fired me, that’s what’s wrong,” he said, immediately going to the liquor cabinet and splashing several inches of Scotch into a glass, then taking a gulp that clearly wasn’t his first of the day. “I’ve worked my butt off for those jerks for how many years now? Fifteen? And now I’m history.”

“Did they tell you why?” she asked hesitantly, knowing as soon as the words were out of her mouth that it was exactly the wrong thing to ask.

His face flushed an even brighter shade of red. “Because they’re idiots, that’s why. One little mistake
and none of the accounts I brought in, none of the work I’d done for them mattered.”

Marcie smothered a desire to point out that if the mistake had been so small, surely they would never have done such a thing. Ken
had
worked hard for them for years. She might not know a lot about the corporate world, but surely they wouldn’t have fired him over something insignificant. Had she said such a thing, though, Ken’s already precarious mood would have turned even darker. She doubted she’d ever hear the whole story. Ken never admitted his failures. It must be killing him just to confess he’d been fired.

She also had to swallow all of the questions she had about what came next, whether they’d offered him severance at least. There was little use in admitting to her own panic at the thought of him being unemployed. Underneath all of Ken’s bravado, she was sure he was fearful enough for both of them. Nor was he likely to have any of the reassuring answers she wanted to hear. It was too soon. Her role, of which she was very much aware, was to boost his self-confidence, not to add to his troubles or make him feel worse.

Although she was silent, he scowled at her as if she’d voiced her thoughts. “Well, don’t you have anything else to say? I’m sure you think this is my fault.”

“I never said that. You’ve given a lot to that company and it’s their loss that you’re gone. Another company will snap you up, I’m sure of it.”

“Aren’t you just little Mary Sunshine,” he said sarcastically.

Despite his nasty attitude, she was determined to think positively. That’s what he needed from her. “I just think it’s important to be optimistic. This is the opportunity
you’ve been waiting for, Ken. You could finally open your own company. You have more than enough experience to do that.”

For the first time since he’d walked in, the anger seemed to fade from his eyes. The fear Marcie knew he was trying to cover drained away as well. He sank into a chair at the kitchen table and regarded her with a bewildered expression. “How’d I make such a mess of things? I blew off one meeting. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but apparently it was to the client. They were nervous about our campaign and me canceling the meeting made their anxiety escalate. They told my boss I was unreliable and that since they obviously couldn’t count on me, they’d go elsewhere. If it had been any other client, it might not have mattered, but this was our foot in the door and I destroyed our chance to get more work.”

Marcie couldn’t believe that after years of missing family occasions for work, Ken would skip out on an important business meeting. “Why, Ken?” she asked, not even trying to hide her frustration. “Why would you cancel a meeting? You never do that.”

“I was wooing another potential client. He wanted to play golf. I thought everything would work out fine.”

“Did the new client sign with the firm?”

He shook his head, looking utterly defeated. “No, so it was all for nothing. It was a judgment call and I blew it. What the hell are we going to do now?”

Falling into her familiar role as cheerleader, she stood behind him and massaged his tense shoulders. “It’s not a disaster, Ken. It’s not.”

For several minutes it was so quiet that Marcie could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall, but eventually Ken rested a hand atop hers.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. None of this is your fault. I just wasn’t expecting this, you know.”

“I know,” she said, moving around to sit in his lap so she could meet his gaze. If ever there’d been a time when he needed her support, this was it. “This isn’t the end of the world. I have so much faith in you, more than you have in yourself, I think.”

His lips curved slightly. “You always did, even way back when we first met. Nobody’d ever believed in me like that. I know I don’t always tell you how much I appreciate what you do around here, but I do. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my corner.”

The rare praise warmed her heart. Sometimes she wondered if he even noticed her at all, much less appreciated her. And his careless words had the capacity to cut her to the quick. A moment like this, though, reminded her of the gentle, sensitive man she’d married. All too often she feared he’d gotten lost along the way in his frantic climb to the top.

She looked into his eyes. “What do you want to do next?” she asked. “If you could choose anything, what would it be?”

He gave her a lopsided, boyish grin. “Take you upstairs to bed?”

Her heart skipped a beat, even though she doubted he could even make it up the stairs on his currently unsteady legs.

“Besides that,” she said, careful to keep her tone light so he wouldn’t take offense at the apparent rejection.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Hell if I know,” he murmured sleepily.

“Well, we’ll figure it out tomorrow,” she assured him. “Why don’t you lie down in the den and rest
before the kids get home? I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

“Probably should take a shower, sober up,” he muttered. “Don’t want them to know I’ve been drinking.”

“Good idea,” she said, relieved that he was thinking that clearly. “I’ll run up and bring down a change of clothes for you and you can use the shower in the guest suite.” In the doorway, she hesitated, then said, “And let’s not tell them what’s going on just yet, okay? Let’s wait till we have a plan.”

“Sure,” he said, stumbling past her. “You always know the right thing to do, Marcie. Always right.”

At his words, which didn’t sound at all like a compliment, tears stung her eyes, but she had too much pride to let them fall. This was the way things went with Ken. One moment he was sweet as could be and the next he could cut her heart out.

Dani studied Caitlyn’s scared expression. In the five years she’d known her, she’d never once seen Caitlyn scared, not even when they’d ridden this totally awesome, terrifying roller coaster on a trip to Disney World. Because there was a two-year age difference, Caitlyn tried hard to act as grown-up as Dani. Sometimes Dani even forgot she was only ten. At other times, Dani felt that two-year age difference was as vast as the ocean. She felt grown-up at twelve, almost a teenager, and sometimes like now, she felt responsible for the younger girl.

“You okay?” she asked when Caitlyn, who was never silent for more than a minute, hadn’t said a word for way longer than that.

Caitlyn shook her head. “Something’s going on at my house.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Every time I walk into a room my mom and dad get real quiet, like they don’t want me or Evan to know something.”

“You think they’re getting a divorce?” Dani asked, her own voice trembling and barely above a whisper. That was her own biggest fear, that her mom and dad would wake up one day to the fact that they hardly ever saw each other and decide to split for good. She’d never heard them fight, but she knew being apart that much couldn’t be good. Moms and dads were supposed to do stuff together. Even though Mr. Carter worked all the time and could be a real jerk, the Carters still did more things together than her own mom and dad ever did.

Caitlyn’s eyes widened at the question. “No!” she shouted, then promptly burst into tears.

Filled with regret for making the suggestion, Dani moved to her side and draped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s probably not that,” she insisted. “I was just guessing. They probably just had a fight or something.”

Caitlyn shook her head. “I think maybe my dad’s sick.”

Dani frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“Because he’s been home every day this week.”

“Couldn’t he be on vacation?”

“He’s
never
taken a vacation. He didn’t even take a day off to go to Disney World with us, remember?”

“Still, that doesn’t mean he’s sick.”

“Then what could it be?” Caitlyn asked.

“I don’t know,” Dani admitted. She looked at her friend. “Maybe you should just ask your mom.”

Not that she wanted to ask her mom if she’d ever thought about divorcing her dad. For one thing, her mom
would probably tell her it was personal and that she didn’t need to know, which was bogus. A divorce might be between her parents, but it affected her, too. And Josh, though he was oblivious to what was going on right under their noses. Plus he was fourteen, which meant he was oblivious to everything except sports and girls.

Beside her, Caitlyn sighed. “I don’t think my mom will tell me anything. She probably thinks she and my dad are doing a great job of keeping this, whatever it is, from me and Evan.”

“What does Evan think?” Dani asked.

Caitlyn gave her an incredulous look that was wise beyond her years. “If it doesn’t involve a ball or a bat, he doesn’t think about it at all.”

Dani grinned. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean,” she commiserated. “Brothers are a pain, huh?”

“A royal pain,” Caitlyn agreed.

Silence fell and, once again, Dani was the first to break it. “I’ll bet things will be okay any day now and you’ll have done all this worrying for nothing.”

“Probably so,” Caitlyn said.

But Dani could tell, looking into her eyes, that she wasn’t buying it.

For the first time in forever, Emily went for a couple of weeks without catching more than a glimpse of Marcie. What little spare time she had was spent with Paula, who was not only sick as a dog from the chemo, but showing signs of depression. Emily and her other friends from school were spending as much time with her as possible trying to lift her spirits and take care of some of the household chores. Emily did laundry during
her visits, others brought casseroles, and any one of them dusted or straightened up if the house needed it. Marcie was driving her to appointments, which were mostly in the morning, so they rarely crossed paths.

Paula’s kids were tiptoing around the house trying to be quiet, trying to be brave. It broke Emily’s heart every time she saw them.

“Why don’t you let me take the kids home with me tonight?” she suggested to Paula. “You and Dave can have an evening on your own.”

“To do what, stare at each other and avoid the one topic neither of us wants to talk about?” Paula responded.

Emily regarded her with surprise. “If you want to talk, then you probably need to take the lead. I suspect Dave is trying not to upset you.”

Paula sighed. “No, the truth is we’ve run out of things to say. I mean, really, it’s not as if anything’s changed. I had surgery. Now I’m doing chemo. No one knows how any of this is going to turn out. What is there to talk about? Funeral arrangements?”

“Stop that!” Emily said, dismayed. “You’ll be old and gray before you need to worry about that. Maybe what you need to tell your husband, though, is that you’re scared. You have a right to be, you know. This is scary stuff.”

Paula’s eyes suddenly welled with tears. “When the doctor first told me and we came up with this whole plan, it was, like, okay, good. There’s a plan. I know what to do. Then all of a sudden, I realized, I could actually die…” She frowned when Emily started to interrupt. “No, you know it’s true. Why deny it? There is no guarantee in this plan that I won’t die.” She choked back a sob. “My kids aren’t even in high school yet, and I could
miss seeing them graduate or get married. I could miss having grandkids.”

“But you’re not going to miss anything,” Emily said. “You are going to beat this. I insist on it.”

Paula chuckled, then swiped at her damp face with a tissue. “God, you sound just like Marcie. You spend too much time together. You’re starting to sound alike.”

“Are you kidding? She’s much more refined than I am,” Emily said.

Paula gave her an odd look. “Why would you say that? Because she spends a fortune on clothes and you don’t? Because she bakes cookies and makes gourmet meals? None of that makes her one bit better than you.”

Emily sighed. “I’m sorry. I sound as if I have a bad case of petty jealousy, don’t I? And I don’t, not really. I adore Marcie.”

“Me, too,” Paula said. “She’s been a godsend with all these appointments.” She frowned slightly. “Have you noticed that she seems a little off lately?”

Emily regarded her with a puzzled expression. “Off how?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it, just not her usual upbeat self, as if there’s something weighing on her.”

“To be honest I haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks, but she was okay last time we were together.”

“Maybe you should give her a call. I asked if everything was okay, but she blew me off. You two are much closer. Maybe she’ll open up with you.”

“I’ll call her the minute I get home. Thanks for saying something. Now you just need to say something about how you’re feeling to your husband. I’ve never seen a man more devoted to anyone than Dave is to you. Don’t shut him out, Paula. Let him be there for you.”

“I just feel he’s had to accept so much already,” Paula said. “The mastectomy, me starting to lose my hair, being sick all the time. It pretty much destroys the mystique that marriage needs to stay alive.”

“Or maybe it puts it on a whole new footing,” Emily suggested, giving her hand a squeeze. “Talk to him, okay?”