Silver Girl (38 page)

“So what did you do?” Toby asked.

“I called her,” Connie said.

Meredith had answered on the first ring, as though she had been standing around her apartment waiting for the call.

Meredith?

Constance.

You heard?

I heard something,
Meredith said.
But I didn’t believe it.

Connie had sighed. She had hoped that Meredith would make this easier. She had hoped that Meredith would take the news in stride and do her part to smooth things over with Freddy.
Wolf really felt we had to pull our money.

That’s what Freddy told me. But why?

Well,
Connie said. Did she tell Meredith the truth here? Certainly not
. I don’t know why, exactly.

You’re lying to me, Constance,
Meredith said.

I’m not lying,
Connie said.
Wolf has his reasons, but I’m not sure what they are.

Wolf is sick,
Meredith said.

Connie raised her hackles.
Yes,
she said.
I know.

He has brain cancer,
Meredith said.

Well, that doesn’t mean he’s stupid,
Connie said.

He’s making a stupid mistake, Freddy says.

Of course, Freddy would say that,
Connie said.
It’s Freddy’s fund. Freddy wants us to stay in. He made that perfectly clear.

So then, what’s the problem? Are the returns not good enough?

They’re good enough,
Connie said.
Wolf feels like they’re too good.

What does that mean?
Meredith asked.

Our accountant can’t explain how Freddy’s doing it,
Connie said.
Nobody can.

Well, of course not,
Meredith said.
Otherwise, they’d be doing it themselves. Freddy is a genius, Connie.
Here, Connie could mouth along to Meredith’s words, they were so predictable.
He was an econ whiz at Princeton. He understands the market like nobody else. Do you know how many people who ask to invest with Freddy he turns down?

Wolf thinks it smells funny,
Connie admitted.

Smells
funny?
Meredith said.
Are you accusing my husband of something?

I don’t know,
Connie said. She had used an apologetic voice when she said this. She used a please-don’t-let-our-husbands’-business-tear-us-apart voice.
Wolf’s just concerned.

Because he thinks Freddy is breaking the law,
Meredith said.

I said, I don’t know.

You do know that Freddy works in a highly regulated industry?

Connie opened her mouth to speak, but Meredith said,
God, I
HATE
it when people call Freddy a crook. He’s excellent at what he does, he’s better at it than anyone else, and that makes him a crook?

All I’m saying is that Wolf wants our money out.
Connie’s voice was tougher with that statement. She had never put herself up against Freddy in Meredith’s eyes, and now, she could see, she was going to lose. If Meredith was going to champion Freddy, then fine—Connie would defend Wolf. She thought of sitting on Wolf’s shoulders during the chicken fights at the Madequecham Jam. Hadn’t she been ruthless? Hadn’t they won every single time?
We
want our money out. We want a check in the morning!

A check in the morning?
Meredith said.
So that’s your decision? You’re done with Freddy?

Done with Delinn Enterprises, yes,
Connie said. She said this to make a distinction between the business and the friendship. The awkward fact was that Connie and Wolf had a vacation planned to Cap d’Antibes with Meredith and Freddy two weeks hence. What would they do about that?

Meredith was the one to ask.
What about France?

The trip to France would most likely be Wolf and Connie’s last trip together, and Connie had been desperately looking forward to it. But how could they go to France now?

We’re not coming to France,
Connie said.

Here, Meredith paused.
You’re not coming to France?

I don’t see how we can… now,
Connie said. What she meant was:
How can we all sit around and eat pâté and drink wine when you’ve both made such a brouhaha about us pulling out our money? How can we accept hospitality from a man whom we’ve essentially labeled a crook?

Meredith’s voice was very quiet. Perhaps if they had both still been yelling, they would have resolved things differently. But Meredith took a resigned breath and said,
Okay, Connie, if that’s the way you want to play it, fine. But you’re making a big mistake.

And Connie, incredulous that the Meredith she had known for over forty years, a woman she considered as close as a sister, would let their friendship asphyxiate because of money, said,
Actually, I don’t think I am.

I’ll tell Freddy you want a check tomorrow,
Meredith said.

Thank you,
Connie said.

And they both hung up. “And that was that?” Toby said.

“That was that,” Connie said. “Weeks went by, then months, and I didn’t hear from her. I kept thinking she would call to apologize.”

“But you didn’t call her to apologize,” Toby said.

“What did
I
have to apologize for?” Connie said.

When Wolf died, Meredith sent flowers and wrote a $10,000 check to the American Cancer Society in Wolf’s honor. Connie wrote to say thank you. She thought that maybe she and Meredith could mend the fence, but she didn’t hear back from Meredith. Connie knew this was because of Freddy.

And then Wolf was proved right: Freddy was arrested. The Ponzi scheme was revealed.

“I’m lucky we got out when we did,” Connie said. “If Wolf hadn’t pulled our money, I would have been forced to sell the Nantucket house. And maybe the Bethesda house, too. I would have had nothing left.”

She would have been just like Meredith.

The next day was Sunday, and as soon as Connie woke up, she called Ashlyn.

She was shuttled right into voice mail.

“Hi, honey, it’s me,” Connie said. “I’m still on Nantucket, and guess what? Uncle Toby is visiting!” Connie paused, as if waiting for Ashlyn to respond. For all Connie knew, Toby talked to Ashlyn on a regular basis. As desperately as Connie wanted news of her daughter, she couldn’t bring herself to ask. “Anyway, call me back when you get this. I love you, Ashlyn. It’s Mom.”

Connie packed as carefully for their trip to Great Point as she might have for a trip to Paris. She wore a bathing suit and a sheer white cover-up that she hadn’t worn since the summer Wolf was sick. Even with his failing eyesight, he’d said,
You look like an angel in that white dress, my love.
That comment alone had made Connie unwilling to wear the cover-up for anyone else. But now she saw how silly that was. The cover-up had been expensive, and it looked good on her. She would wear it. She packed her book, sunscreen, towels, and a sweater. In her overnight bag, she packed her toothbrush, face lotion, and her brush, a nightgown.

She packed food in the cooler, and a thermos of iced tea, but no wine. It would be fine. Of course, she could pack a bottle of wine and simply choose not to drink it—but who was she kidding? If the wine was there, she would be too tempted.

She heard a horn beeping outside. Dan!

“Dan, this is my brother, Toby. Toby, this is Dan Flynn.”

“Dan the man!” Toby said, shaking Dan’s hand.

Dan grinned. “Nice to meet you. You and Connie look alike.”

“We do?” Connie said. She could see right away that everything was going to be fine. Toby was used to charming everyone he came in contact with, and Dan would be no exception. Dan and Toby were alike; they were men of the outdoors. Neither of them cared about money or prestige or about leaving behind a legacy. They cared about being free to do as they liked. They were a perfect match.

Dan kissed Meredith on the cheek. He said, “I like the way you did your hair.”

Meredith was wearing a red baseball hat with sorority letters on it. It had been Ashlyn’s, long abandoned to the dusty shelf of the front closet. Connie had initially been shocked to see Meredith wearing it, then she thought,
Oh, what the hell.
No more taboos. And Meredith seemed marginally more cheerful this morning.

“Thanks,” Meredith said.

“I meant, no wig,” Dan said.

“Wait a minute,” Toby said. “Do you actually wear a wig?”

“I’ve been traveling incognito,” Meredith said. “But not today.”

Dan touched Meredith’s shoulder. “You won’t need a disguise today.”

“Great Point!” Toby said, rubbing his hands together.

“Let’s go!” Dan said.

They drove through the town of Sconset, stopping at the market for sandwiches and bags of chips, pretzels, and marshmallows. Connie had made a fruit salad, potato salad, and coleslaw, and Dan said he had the rest of their provisions covered.

The top was down on the strawberry Jeep, and the sun shone on the four of them as they drove out of Sconset along the Polpis Road, past Sankaty Lighthouse and the golf course, past the flat blue oval of Sesachacha Pond, to the Wauwinet turnoff. Here, the road grew winding and rural—there were farmhouses surrounded by open land, and then there was a thicket of green, leafy trees before they reached the gatehouse at the Wauwinet inn. Dan stopped the Jeep and hopped out to let the air out of the tires. Toby said, “Can I help?”

“I’d love it,” Dan said. He tossed Toby the tire gauge and worked with the car key.

Connie was up front, Meredith directly behind her. Connie turned around and smiled at Meredith.

“You okay?” she said.

“Great,” Meredith said. She had her big, dark sunglasses on, so Connie couldn’t tell if this was a real “great” or a sarcastic “great.”

Connie listened to the hiss of air escaping the tires. It was like a double date, she thought. Having Toby here balanced things out. She remembered her last double date with Meredith—and Wolf and Freddy—in the south of France. Freddy had arranged for a car trip to the picturesque village of Annecy. They had traveled in a 1956 Renault; they had a driver in a military-blue chauffeur cap who spoke only French. Meredith had been the one who communicated with him. Connie remembered being envious of Meredith’s French and feeling angry at herself for taking four years of useless Latin. The four of them had gone to an elegant lunch at a Michelin-starred restaurant overlooking a lake. It was a place Meredith and Freddy went often; they knew the owner, a distinguished, olive-skinned gentleman in an immaculate suit. The man had reminded Connie of Oscar de la Renta; he had kissed Connie’s hand and brought both her and Meredith glasses of rose champagne. Krug. The lunch must have cost five hundred euros, though no bill ever came to the table. It had been like that with Freddy and Meredith—you had these amazing experiences that just seemed to magically happen—though, of course, Freddy had paid for lunch somehow. The lunch had probably cost more like a thousand euros because there had been at least two bottles of the Krug. There had been lobster and mango salad, and microgreens with marinated artichokes that were grown at a local farm. There had been a whole poached fish with sauce on the side and these special potatoes braised in olive oil, and a cheese platter with figs and tiny champagne grapes. And then, at the end of the meal, chocolate truffles and espresso. It had been the lunch of a lifetime. Freddy, Connie remembered, had drunk only mineral water. He had sat at the head of the table, the undisputed king, ordering up this dish and that, while Connie and Wolf and Meredith grew giddy on the Krug. Freddy’s tee-totaling, Connie saw now, had been a way of controlling them all. And hadn’t this car trip to Annecy and this lunch occurred the day after Freddy had kissed Connie on the terrace? Yes, she remembered feeling Freddy’s eyes on her during that lunch; she had felt his admiration and his desire. She had, if she could be perfectly honest, basked in it.

He had kissed her, touched her.

Connie nearly turned around to ask Meredith the name of that restaurant—it was the kind of thing one was meant to remember—but Connie decided she wouldn’t bring it up. For all she knew, the owner of the restaurant had been an investor; for all she knew, the restaurant was now gone, one more casualty of Delinn Enterprises.

You are an incredibly beautiful woman, Constance.

The attendant from the gatehouse came out to check their beach sticker. He was an older gentleman with a gray buzz cut and a stern demeanor. Ex-military for sure. A retired lieutenant. That was who was needed for this job: someone who could keep the unregistered riffraff off the hallowed conservation acres of Great Point.

The attendant brightened when he saw Dan. “Hello there, young Flynn,” he said. “How goes it this fine day?”

The two men shook hands.

“It goes,” Dan said. He looked at Toby, then back at the Jeep. “These are some friends of mine…”

Be careful!
Connie thought.

“From Maryland.”

Toby, never one to shy from an introduction, offered his hand. “Toby O’Brien.”

“Bud Attatash,” the attendant said. He looked past Toby at the Jeep.

Don’t introduce us!
Connie thought.

“You ladies ready to go have some fun?” Bud asked.

Connie waved. She couldn’t see what Meredith was doing.

“How is it up there today?” Dan asked. Connie thought,
Get in the car. Please, let’s go.
But then she remembered that Dan’s real job was to know everyone on this island and everything that went on. Clearly, he felt he had to take two minutes to chew the fat with Bud Attatash.

Bud said, “Well, it’s August and the seals are finally off the point. They’ve made their way up the coast.”

“It’ll smell a lot better,” Dan said.

“Got that right,” Bud said. He scratched the back of his neck. His collar was as stiff as cardboard. “Hey, did you hear about a dead seal on the south shore? Murdered, they say. Dropped off special delivery for that Delinn woman.”