Run Away Baby (7 page)

“I doubt I’ll ever need to start a fire with sticks, or however it is you start a fire without matches.”

“Well, still. You should consider it.”

“I don’t really think it would go over well if I took classes like that.”

“Go over well with who?”

“My husband. He would think it was pretty weird if I signed up for something like that.”

“He could come too.”

Abby scrutinized Charlie’s face, trying to tell if he was serious. Why would he want her husband along? “He wouldn’t want to take classes like that,” she said.

“So it will be just you,” said Charlie. “I give private lessons.” He smiled at her. Being this close to him, she noticed things she’d never seen before. A couple of silver hairs in his stubble, although he looked like he couldn’t be more than thirty. A slightly crooked front tooth, just enough to give him an appearance that wasn’t
too
perfect. If anything, his flaws made him more attractive.

“You’re a troublemaker, aren’t you?” she said.

“You could say that.”

She took a sip of her iced tea. Her throat was suddenly very dry. She considered whether all the Northface and Patagonia socks and underwear she’d purchased may have convinced Randall that she truly cared about becoming outdoorsy.

“Maybe I’ll ask him whether he’ll let me,” she said.

“You’ll ask him if he’ll
let
you?”

“I didn’t mean I need permission. I meant, you know, I mean, we’re
married
. Married people run stuff by each other.”

“Sure, I get it.”

Just then her cellphone rang. It was Krissa. “Can you excuse me for a minute while I take this?” she asked Charlie. He nodded.

“Hello?” Abby said, getting up and heading toward the women’s restroom.

“Hi,” said Krissa. “Hey, I hate to be a pain, but have you been at a place called the Bigger Burger for two hours? A debit card purchase popped up a while ago, but your phone tracker hasn’t moved at all.”

“Well, not exactly. I’ve been downtown, and I was having lunch, then I left and was walking around and I realized I left my phone there, so I had to run back and get it. I just got back here and luckily it’s right where I left it, so you caught me picking it up and now I’m about to do a little more shopping and head home.”

“So your phone was there for two hours but you weren’t?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll explain it to Mr. Greer. He thought it was a little strange that it was taking you so long to have lunch at a place that was basically a diner. He was worried about you. He was going to send Clark Lorbmeer over to check on you but I just tried calling the law office and it turns out that Mr. Lorbmeer’s in court today.”

“Oh. Wow. Tell him I’m really sorry I made him worry and that he definitely doesn’t have to get Clark involved. I mean, that would be really embarrassing, especially when it’s all because I happened to forget my phone. I’m super glad it was still here when I came back.”

“One more thing. Why did you decide to have lunch there? Mr. Greer says he’s never known you to have lunch at that place before.”

“Oh, well… I guess since I work downtown now and I see it all the time I got to thinking I’d like to try it. I heard at the law office it was a good place to eat.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah, it was good.”

“Great! Thanks, Abby. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Thanks, Krissa. I will.”

Abby checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror after the call had ended. Even in the dim, flickering light she could see that her neck was covered in hives. “Holy shit,” she whispered. She blotted at her neck with a cold, wet paper towel, and then fanned herself dry with her hand.

She went back out to where Charlie was sitting, waiting for her. It looked like he hadn’t taken another bite of his food the whole time she’d been on her call.

“Charlie,” she said, her voice barely audible in the clattering, busy restaurant. “I have to go. I’m sorry to run off like this, but I realized I really can’t be doing things like this. It’s not right.”

“Already? You’ve hardly touched your food.”

“If my boss hadn’t been in court today, he would have come in here and caught me with you.”

“Your boss is keeping track of you too?”

“He’s friends with my husband.”

“I understand,” Charlie said, in a tone that implied he absolutely did not. “But we’re just having lunch. Right? You won’t stay with me and finish eating?”

“I can’t. I have to go,” she repeated, yet she stood there, hesitating. Back to her mansion. Back to life with Randall.

“You seem like you want to sit back down?” Charlie asked.

“Oh my gosh, I almost forgot these,” she noticed, picking up the napkin that held her pile of M&M’s. She wrapped a paper placemat around it, carefully, so it was a tidy little pouch, and set in in her purse.

“You’re very intriguing,” Charlie joked.

“Right. Anyway, thanks for lunch. Now I’m really leaving. I’ll see you at work.”

“Well then…” He stood up, set his napkin on the table, and stepped around the table to where she was standing. He embraced her. “It was nice getting to know you better,” he said.

“You too,” she said into his shoulder, stiffly, not hugging him back, her eyes on the front door.

“Do this again with me. Come on. Relax,” he whispered into her ear.

She stepped back, aware that spies could be anywhere. Her heart was racing. She thought she might become ill, right there. “Thank you,” she said curtly. She nodded and was on her way.

“No need to thank me,” he called after her.

She went out to her car and went straight home, the entire drive thinking of ways to make Randall believe she wanted to be a survivalist.

“Are you and R going to the Phelps’ party next weekend?” asked Danna-Dee.

Abby was sitting beside her on the Lorbmeers’ boat
The Sea Lassie.
Clark and Randall were upfront, talking about some private matter they felt women wouldn’t understand. Danna-Dee was drinking her signature Pinot Noir, her teeth and lips stained purple. Abby had no idea why she called Randall ‘R’ when nobody else did. When she said it, Abby felt like she was listening to a pirate talking.

“Yeah, we’re planning to go.”

“Us too. Have you been to their house yet?”

“Once last summer. It’s nice. Very modern and minimalistic.”

“Oh really? I’d picture Kathy Phelps having more cottagey taste,” Danna-Dee said, wrinkling her nose.

“No, it’s pretty cool. Almost cold.”

“Ohhh!
Cold.”
She nodded, glad that Abby could assist her in some smacktalk. “And what are you thinking you’re going to wear?”

“I’m not sure yet,” said Abby. Danna-Dee was almost fifty. Abby didn’t appreciate being her fashion advisor.

“Oh.” Danna-Dee frowned. “Not even an
idea
yet?”

“I don’t know. Maybe my navy jumpsuit.”

“A
jumpsuit?
My Lord! Are they back? I don’t know if I could do a jumpsuit. I wore jumpsuits the first time they were in style, and they say that you can only follow a trend once.”

“I might wear a dress. I don’t know.”

“What kind of dress?”

“I don’t know. It’s really up to Randall,” said Abby.

“Oh yes, he’s got his opinions, doesn’t he,” nodded Danna-Dee. She smiled and took another sip of her wine.

“What do you think you’re going to wear?” Abby asked, even though she didn’t care.

“I have no idea. I’m going to have to go shopping sometime this week. I guess everyone who’s anyone is going to be there. The Reeds, the Fenskes, the Moffetts. Everyone.”

“Wow,” Abby said, not even bothering to add emotion.

Randall and Clark came back and sat down beside them. Randall rested his big, meaty hand on Abby’s thigh and tickled her beneath her shorts hem. She brushed his hand away.

“How ya doin’ Sugartitties,” he whispered in her ear, loud enough so Clark and Danna-Dee could hear him.

“I’m okay,” she whispered without meeting his eyes.

Clark and Danna-Dee smiled.

“You ladies going to do some fishing with us old men?” asked Clark. Even though they were just six years apart, he liked to pretend that Danna-Dee was much younger than him. He seemed to think it was worth seeming older if he could portray himself as someone who’d also snagged a young trophy wife.

“No way!” said Danna-Dee. “I just got my nails done and I don’t want to ruin them!” She held them out to Abby and the men, wiggly them like purple tipped palm fronds. “What do you think?”

“Sexy,” said Randall.

“Don’t you be coming on to my wife,” Clark joked.

“Abby, what do you think?” asked Danna-Dee.

“They’re pretty.”

“Do you like the rhinestone accents? Or was that too much?”

Abby shrugged. “Either way.”

“Why don’t you get a little sun,” Randall suggested to Abby then. As long as he was nearby, he liked her to wear as little as possible. Since early in their marriage, she’d been afraid he would try to coerce her into having sex with one of his friends, but he’d never taken it that far. Perhaps if it ever went there, that would be her breaking point. Or maybe not. She’d begun to doubt whether she even had a breaking point. Maybe only strong people had them. Maybe she was so weak that she would bend and bend and bend, like a spaghetti noodle.

“I’m actually a little chilly tonight,” she said, pulling her thin summer sweater around her shoulders.

“She’s in some mood, isn’t she,” Randall said to Clark and Danna-Dee. “Have a little more to drink, why don’t you,” he said, now turning his attention on Abby, making a production of it. “Maybe it will mellow you out.”

“I don’t need any more,” she said.

He ignored this, topping off her wine glass. Then he turned back to Clark and Danna-Dee. “Did this one tell you her latest scheme?” He jabbed his thumb into Abby’s shoulder a few times. She froze, half expecting him to share her innermost thoughts that he’d somehow siphoned straight out of her brain with one of his spying devices.

“I don’t think so,” said Danna-Dee, “but now you’ve got me curious.”

“She wants to take courses on
camping,”
said Randall.

Oh,
that
scheme. Abby breathed a sigh of relief.

“Camping?” Clark asked.

“I’ve always been interested in the outdoors,” Abby said to Clark and Danna-Dee.

“Huh,” Clark said. He shook his head and took another drink of his scotch.

“Right, Honey? You’ve always known that about me,” Abby added, smiling at Randall. He was so adept at ignoring her true feelings and interests that telling him he’d forgotten one wouldn’t even arouse his usually overactive suspicions.

“I never would have taken you for an outdoorsy girl,” said Danna-Dee.

“Well, I guess that’s why I thought it might be fun to take some classes. You see, I’m
not
very outdoorsy, but I’m interested in nature and camping. I thought Randall and I could take some fun classes together and then take a trip where we could try out our skills.”

“Why would you want to suffer when you can have luxury?” Danna-Dee asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Abby waved her hand in the air like she was brushing away her own silliness. “It was just an idea.”

“I think she wants to get me out in the woods and kill me,” Randall said.

“Oh, Randall! You’re terrible,” said Abby.

“Are these the classes taught through the college by that old man? What’s his name? Bob something?” Danna-Dee asked.

“Hmmm. I’m not sure who teaches them,” Abby said.

“Ned and Bonnie Callaway’s son Nathan took some classes like that before he went to Ecuador. Non-credit courses. Bonnie said Nate loved them.”

“Isn’t that great,” Abby said.

Danna-Dee nodded and continued, “The instructor was some kind of old mountain man. I got the impression he was eighty years old, but still going strong.”

“Yeah, that sounds like the classes I read about,” Abby said. She sneaked a peek at Randall to see if his radar was being tripped; he was digging a car key in his ear, looking out at the ocean with his eyes half-crossed.

“Sounds fun,” Danna-Dee said, unconvincingly.

“I’ll tell you what,” Randall said, coming back to life. He shoved his keys in his pocket and focused on Abby. “If you want to take some classes like that, Sugartitties,” his voice was big and loud; he was in show mode, “you go for it. Sign right up. But I’m not going camping anywhere other than a five-star hotel.”

“Maybe I will,” she said to Randall. She said it smiling and sweet, and she hoped to him it sounded like Maybe I won’t.

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Danna-Dee said. She had reached the point of slurring her words.

“You want to get some fishing in, or should we start heading back?” Clark asked Randall.

“I can’t go back to shore before I’ve even gotten my worm wet,” Randall said. Clark and Danna-Dee guffawed like this was really witty, like they hadn’t heard him say it twenty other times.

“If they’re going to fish, we should do facials,” Danna-Dee said.

“Sure,” said Abby. “Why not.” She’d lived this day dozens and dozens of times.

Danna-Dee filled the blender with avocadoes and olive oil, steel-cut oats and two eggs. She spread two big towels out on the reclined seats. Then she sliced up a cucumber. Most of it went in the blender, four slices were set aside. She hit the pulse button and whipped it all into a pale green concoction. She and Abby settled back, slathered the potion over their faces, topping it all off with the cucumber slices over their eyes. A moment later Danna-Dee was snoring. To her, this was heaven. To Abby, not so much.