A Weekend Getaway (3 page)

Her belly rumbled. Darn it! Why
hadn’t she thought to pack some Healthy Habits fiber bars? Odds were she
wouldn’t find anything low-fat in a vending machine. She slipped her sneakers
back on and went into the hall. Eventually, she ended up at the front desk
without seeing anything except pop machines. A broad-shouldered man, still
dressed for the office, stood with his back to her. He laughed a deep barrel
laugh, took the room key from the clerk and turned to face her.

Her mouth fell open. “Parker
DuBois?” He still had short chestnut hair and a jaw that could only be
described as chiseled. Handsome and smart. A combination every woman drooled
over.

He blinked at her with a neutral
expression.

“It’s me. Bethany.”

Then he smiled. Time had added
adorable crinkles to the corners of his brown eyes. “I didn’t recognize you
without your baseball cap.” Stretching his arms wide, he embraced her. “You
look amazing.”

What he meant was “You’re no
longer fat.” Quickly she pulled herself out of his strong arms, knowing better
than to get comfortable there. “Ivy said you couldn’t make it this weekend. Did
you solve your problem at work?”

He squinted and looked confused,
but only for a moment. “Yes, yes. I didn’t think I could come, but I started
missing the old gang. Who knows if we’ll ever get together again?” Sadness
touched his features.

She nodded. She always skipped
her high school reunions since those kids had teased her more than they’d been
her friends. The members of the Leadership Club, however, had welcomed
everyone—regardless of major, GPA or looks. As long as you wanted to
participate, you belonged. There hadn’t been any jockeying for position or
blatant résumé-building like in her business clubs. Just a small group of
people volunteering their time, having fun and making the world a better place.

Parker stifled a yawn and
started pulling his suitcase toward the hall. “I’ll go surprise Ivy now. See
you tomorrow.”

What about the guy in Ivy’s
room? Beth swallowed. “Um, Ivy isn’t there. Last I saw her, she was singing at
the Blue Note Bar. If you want, I’ll walk with you over there.”

He stopped. “That sounds like
her. I’m tired, though. Maybe some other time.”

She bit her bottom lip. Even
after all of these years, she felt loyal to Ivy. It was ridiculous. If she was
cheating on Parker, then he deserved to know. He deserved to find a woman who
appreciated him. A woman like. . .
 
. Beth bit her lip harder. No, she
shouldn’t be foolish.

“Please, Parker. I could
actually use your help with something. I haven’t quite figured out what to say
at the banquet yet. I remember when you were President of the club, how
everyone always made sure they arrived on-time so they wouldn’t miss your
opening joke.”

Clearly flattered, he shrugged
and smiled. “It was nothing. Let me put my suitcase in the room and I’ll go
with you. We can scribble notes on a cocktail napkin—that’s how I used to
do it.”

She shook her head. “It’s a long
walk to the room. I bet you could just check your bag here.” She looked at the
young woman behind the desk and got a nod.

“Well, okay.” He handed his bag
to the clerk. “Thanks.”

They headed outside and she
noticed the temperature must’ve dropped about ten degrees.
Should I try to call Ivy’s room and warn her? Or is this little delay
the extent of my goodwill?
Goose bumps popped on her arms and she shivered.
Without a word, Parker took off his blazer and draped it around her shoulders.
Oh, God. Why does he always have to be so
nice?

He walked beside her down
Kirkwood Avenue. “What’s the message of your speech?”

“I don’t know. It was crazy for
me to agree to speak. I don’t really have anything to say.”

He chuckled and patted her back.
A thrill zipped through her body and she felt eighteen years old again. Her
throat went dry. All of the old longing returned. If they weren’t both taken,
maybe she’d throw herself at him right now. One last Hail Mary. And why not? Somehow
for one night, all of those years ago, he’d been hers. They’d never spoken of
it. Pretended it never happened. She’d tried to forget it, find contentment
with Drew, but suddenly she couldn’t help wondering “What if?” Especially now
that Parker stood inches away from her.

He leaned in to be heard over
passing traffic. “I always start with my goal. What do I want people to think
or do after they hear my speech?”

“I don’t know. I want those
active in the club now to realize what a great opportunity they have. I want
them to take advantage of everything—join committees, run for office,
make things happen.”

He nodded. “That’s great. Now
make it personal. Think of anecdotes about your life that illustrate the
benefit of getting involved with the club. Did it help you in your job, in
other organizations, as a wife and mother?”

Her spine stiffened. Did he
think she was married?

He laughed. “I didn’t mean to
freak you out. I looked you up on Facebook. You married a guy at your company
and you have a little girl, right?”

She paused, choking on the
memory. “The little girl isn’t my daughter.” It took her a moment to recover
her train of thought. “I’m not married, but Drew and I are living together.” Why
did she hate to admit that to him? After all, he wasn’t available. He’d been
with her friend for forever. He’d made his choice and she’d had to live with
the consequences. Again, she paused, fighting to maintain her focus on the here
and now. “Emma is Drew’s niece.” She needed to switch topics. “Anyway, Ivy told
me Mall Land is doing well.”

He blushed. “I hate how she
brags about money.”

A six-foot tall, handsome businessman who blushes. He would’ve made a
great husband. An even better father. Too bad.

As they approached, the doorman
waved them into the crowded bar. The band still played, but of course, Ivy’s
voice no longer vibrated through the room. It was a male vocalist now.
Hopefully Parker wouldn’t want to leave because his wife wasn’t there. He
leaned toward the bartender and ordered. A moment later he paid and handed Beth
a strawberry daiquiri, her favorite.

She took the pink drink. “You
remembered.” How many Weight Watchers’ points were in this? One-hundred
calories in the whipped cream alone. Of course, what did it matter? She’d stuck
to her diet this time thinking that she wanted to be thin for her wedding day.
But Drew didn’t even care enough to be her date this weekend.

They headed toward the back of
the room in search of a place to sit. A couple stood and left a table. Parker
rushed forward and secured it before any other by-standers could take it.

Inside, the air actually felt
hot, so she removed his blazer and put it over the back of her chair. She took
a long sip of her sweet drink, hoping the rum would hit her brain fast.
Parker’s movie star looks always made her nervous.

He put a paper napkin on the
table and handed her a pen. “Here, you write.”

She scribbled a few key words—goal,
anecdotes, work--on the napkin before taking another sip. She needed something
stronger. Something to numb this desire she still felt.

As if reading her mind, he
ordered two Jägermeisters from a passing waitress. “This was where I celebrated
my twenty-first birthday. And this was my favorite shot.” He lifted his glass.
“You have to try one.” He pushed the other tiny glass toward her.

She hadn’t gone to a bar on her
twenty-first birthday and she’d never had shots. So why not give it a try? One
wouldn’t hurt. She lifted it and tossed it back like she’d seen on TV. It
burned her throat raw. She coughed with a goose-like honk. A quick sip of her
daiquiri muffled it.

“What a great birthday that
was,” Parker said. “Or so my friends told me. My memory was slightly affected.”
He smiled and ordered another round.

This time the amber liquid
burned her a little less. How much damage was this doing to her hips?

After several shots, Beth’s
worries floated away. She forgot about her speech. She forgot about her diet
and she forgot about her neglectful boyfriend. She was young and in love all
over again, and best of all, Parker didn’t once mention Ivy.

“It’s going to be so great to
see the old gang tomorrow,” he said.

A funny memory came to her and she
dared to clasp his hand as if she needed his full attention. “Remember that
Halloween party when Bill dressed like Mrs. Doubtfire?”

 
“When the cops came and he lost his
earring in their backseat?” He didn’t pull away, but let her touch linger.

Was there something going on
between her and Parker? “Thank goodness the officers let him off with a warning
to keep the noise down.”

“That’s because they were
laughing too hard to write a ticket.” He grinned. “Bill threw great parties.”

 
“That’s because he majored in theater. He
had such an interesting mix of colorful friends.” Embarrassed at her boldness,
she removed her hand from his. “I wonder what Bill’s up to these days.” She stirred
the straw in her nearly empty glass, eyeing him.

 
“Probably married with a couple of kids.”
His voice sounded flat.

She didn’t know what to say. Between
the alcohol and the nostalgia, she completely lost track of time. All she knew
was she didn’t want this night to end.

Parker mumbled something. It
sounded like, “Lucky guy.”

“What?”

“Bill. If he’s happily married
with 2.5 kids, he’s a lucky guy.” Parker leaned forward and looked deep into
her eyes. “If I could go back and do it all over again. . .” His words slurred
a bit. “I should’ve picked you.”

CHAPTER
TWO

“What?” Beth must’ve heard him
wrong. The band was too freaking loud.

Parker’s head bobbed a little,
his eyelids drooped. “Back in the day. I never should’ve gone out with Ivy.
Definitely shouldn’t have married her.
You.
. . you
would’ve been the smart choice.”

Her heart ricocheted inside her
chest. “Don’t be silly.” She pushed his shoulder playfully, the alcohol dulling
her inhibitions.
Why did it take you
sixteen years to realize this?

“I’m serious. Things didn’t work
out the way I’d hoped. Why couldn’t I see that Ivy and I weren’t a good match?”

“Because she was beautiful.”
And I was not.
“When you’re young, looks
are all that matter.”

He shrugged.

“You two would’ve had cute
children.” Regret choked her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s all right. I married her
when she told me she was pregnant.”

Acid mixed with the alcohol in
her gut. She didn’t want to hear this.

Oblivious to Beth’s queasy
stomach, he continued talking. “I thought it was the right thing to do. And then
she had a miscarriage.” He gulped the amber liquid in his glass. “After that, I
suggested we adopt some kids. I wanted to teach them to work and play
hard.
. . and to give to those less fortunate.”

She took some deep breaths to
maintain her composure. In, out. In, out. “I remember you were going to join
the Peace Corps. Did you ever do that?”

“No. Ivy wouldn’t have liked
being left alone and she wouldn’t have wanted to go, either. Besides, I’m busy
with my business here in the states. I give a lot to charity, though.” His
focus seemed to float into the distance. “Life never turns out quite the way
you pictured it, does it?”

Why was he all sad? He’d gone on
while Beth had made sacrifices. She’d suffered from her own secret. Silently
counting the Christmases, the birthdays, and the milestones all in her head.
Wondering if she’d made the right choice.

“Last call!” shouted the
bartender.

She reached for her purse, but
Parker insisted on paying the tab. The wait staff was pretty busy with other
tables, so he made his way through the crowd over to the bar while she headed
for the exit. When he joined her in the crisp night air, she tried to give him
his blazer back, but he refused. Instead, Parker put a hat on her head that had
been hidden behind his back. “There. That’s better.”

She pulled it off and looked at
it. It was a pink baseball cap with the name of the bar embroidered on the
front: The Blue Note. She giggled. Back in college she’d often worn a baseball
cap when she was too busy to curl her hair. “You didn’t need to do that.”

The two of them started walking
toward the union hotel when Beth thought about Ivy and that mysterious man. Was
it safe to go back? Beth stopped. “Wasn’t your apartment around here
somewhere?”

The exact address was 124 Knight
Street, Apartment C, but Parker didn’t need to know that she’d remembered.

He looked down the road. “Sure.
I wonder what it looks like.” His brown eyes twinkled in the streetlight.

“Let’s go see.” They made their
way toward the apartments. Soon they were outside a three-story brick building
with wrought-iron balconies. Beth, on student loans and financial aid, had
lived in the dorms. But even back then Parker had had the best of everything.
Yet somehow he didn’t come across as spoiled or entitled. She’d loved that
about him.

They both looked up to a dark,
second floor apartment. No parties tonight.

She remembered kissing him on
that balcony. Making a fool of herself. God, how she’d fantasized that it was
just the beginning, but she’d been so wrong. She swallowed. “I wonder if they
still throw anti-Valentine’s Day parties there.”

He chuckled. “It was so nice not
to have to pair up just because it was February fourteenth.”

“You’re telling me.”

“What I wouldn’t give to go
back...”

“Really?”

He stood there in the quiet,
looking longingly up at his old place. His gaze slid down to her face.

Her pulse throbbed in her neck.
It was one of those moments. The moment before the big moment. She could sense
it. He tilted his head down as if he were going to kiss her. Her eyes closed
and her body screamed, “Yes, yes!”

But something clicked in her
brain. She stepped back.

He straightened and cleared his
throat. “Sorry. You probably think I’m a jerk. It’s just
that.
. . things aren’t going so well with Ivy.”

“I’m sorry.” What else could she
say? And why had she pulled away? Even after Parker had broken her heart, she’d
kept dreaming of his kiss. His compassion for the downtrodden, his easy,
dimpled smile, everything about him seemed to cancel out his flaws.

But now it was too late. Drew
was a good man. The first man to see past the number on her scale. The first
man to invite her to move in. Sure, he’d become engrossed in fixing up the
house and raising Emma, but he loved Beth. And she loved him.

She sighed in frustration. “Do
you want to talk about it?” How selfish of her. Pretending to care but secretly
relishing that Parker’s marriage stood on shaky ground.

“No.” He wiped his hands on his
pants. “I should go talk to her.”

They walked back together, making idle small talk. Traffic
had diminished, just as their enthusiastic conversation had.

Back at the union, the interior of the limestone building
echoed with their footfalls. Beth held her breath as Parker took his blazer,
then opened the door across the hall. She exhaled with both relief and
disappointment when he greeted his wife, who was apparently alone.

# # #

Bright and early the next
morning, Beth called home again. Still no Drew. Frustrated, she hung up and dressed
for the service project. The Leadership Club was all about giving back to the
community and today they were helping at the Salvation Army. Checking herself
out in the bathroom mirror, she placed her new pink baseball cap onto her head
and smiled.

Once Beth arrived at the cement
block building, a fifty-something woman with her hair in a sloppy up-do told
them how to sort through the donated clothes heaped on the floor. The old trio
of friends, Sarah, Ivy, and Beth took spots near a box of used shoes as the
Salvation Army employee took the guys to a back room to move furniture.

Sarah held up an orange and pink
muu muu. “What do you think?”

They all giggled.

Ivy crinkled her nose. “I don’t
think we need to look at any of these pieces. They’re all out of style and
should be thrown away.”

Sarah shook her head, her long
hair clinging to her back. “Just because you would never wear second-hand
clothes doesn’t mean that somebody won’t appreciate them. When I was pregnant,
I bought all of my maternity clothes at garage sales and thrift stores.
Otherwise, it seemed like such a waste of money.”

The stuck-up expression on Ivy’s
face made Beth cringe. “Let’s just sort the clothes like they asked us to.”

Sarah held up a decorative
pillow with a rip along the seam. “What if it needs to be stitched up?”

Grabbing a nearby T-shirt, Beth surveyed
it then placed it in the “keep” pile. “She said nothing that needs to be
repaired stays.”

Sarah studied the pillow. “What
a shame. This gingham pattern would look great in a quilt I’m making.”

“Take it,” Ivy said.

Sarah let out a little
hmmm
. “That doesn’t seem right.” She set
it by her foot. “I’ll ask the Salvation Army lady before I leave.” Grabbing a
nearby sweatshirt with a stain on the front, she paused to look at Beth. “So,
tell me all about this man you live with. How’d you meet? What’s he like?”

She and Drew had been together
for about a year, but except for Facebook updates, Beth didn’t talk to her old
girlfriends anymore. In fact, she’d sent a gift but hadn’t even visited Sarah
when her last child was born. That was—what?—four years ago.

“Well, for our first date, he
made reservations at this upscale restaurant known for their filet mignon, but
then he called me to cancel at the last minute.” Ivy and Sarah wrinkled their
foreheads in confusion, so Beth continued. “It turned out his sister got called
in to work and needed him to babysit his niece. Emma wasn’t even two years old
at the time and definitely wouldn’t have sat still for a four-course meal. The
problem was he didn’t tell me that. He just cancelled without any explanation. Somehow
we both ended up at a pizza parlor—me getting take-out and him
entertaining his niece. The place had a little toy horse kids could ride and Drew
stood next to it, holding Emma’s back to make sure she didn’t fall, putting in
quarter after quarter. Emma was giggling and he and I ended up chatting. The
evening flew by.” It was the night Beth knew that Drew was husband material.

“I hope he took you out for a
real date the next time,” Ivy said.

Beth smiled. “Eventually, but
there was something special in the simplicity of that first night.” Not to
mention that pizza was one of her favorite foods. Something she hadn’t allowed
herself to eat for six months. Her stomach growled at the thought.

Sarah’s eyes shone. “You know
how to pick ‘em. I still owe you for introducing me to my hubby.”

Back in college, Sarah had been
the first fix-up Beth had ever tried. It worked out so well, other girls in the
dorm asked her for recommendations. More often than not, Beth had a sixth sense
about those kinds of things. “I’m happy it worked out. I like your website, by
the way. The photos of your family vacation to Mount Rushmore are amazing.”

“That trip was so much fun. I
had my oldest two use the atlas to map out our route and we studied the
presidents before we went. That’s the neat thing about home schooling. You can
turn everything you do into a learning experience.”

Ivy piped up. “But nobody needs
to read maps anymore. You can use GPS.”

Beth ignored Ivy. “Anyway,
SarahHomemaker.com is such a clever url.”

“Thanks,” Sarah answered. “It
started out as a way to update my in-laws on the kids. Whenever I tweaked a new
recipe or figured out how to make a craft even better, I’d post it there. Soon
all of my fellow stay-at-home moms were spreading the word to their friends.”
Her cheeks bloomed with pride. “Now I have thousands of visitors every day.”

Ivy took a piece of gum out of
her purse and popped it into her mouth. “You’d think people would have better
things to do than make spaghetti sauce from scratch.”

Sarah’s posture faltered for a
moment. She continued sorting clothes and took a deep breath. “I try not to
judge. If moms want to open a jar of Ragu so they have more time to make finger
puppets with their kids, then that’s great. It’s about maximizing the
motherhood experience.”

Beth thought about Emma and how
much time she spent at daycare compared to home. Even though the little girl
wasn’t hers, Beth still suffered from a good dose of mom guilt.

Ivy got up and began rifling
through outfits hanging beneath a sign that read $5. “I can’t believe I agreed
to do this project. Who knows where these clothes have been? There could be
bugs in here.”

Beth and Sarah exchanged knowing
looks.

“Go help the guys move furniture
then,” Sarah said.

Ivy yawned. “I’m too tired for
that. Parker and I had a late night if you know what I mean.” She wiggled her
perfectly-tweezed eyebrows.

Was that true or was Ivy lying?
Jealousy stirred inside of Beth as she remembered how Parker had tried to kiss
her last night. The muscles in her shoulders tightened as she forced herself to
focus on picking up and tossing clothes.

Finding a nearby wicker chair
with some loose caning in the arms, Ivy sat down. “I don’t know how you two
with kids keep the passion alive. But for Parker and me it’s still like we’re
teenagers making out after prom. I would think more people would skip parenthood
if they knew how fabulous my life is.” She blew a pink bubble.

Again Beth and Sarah glared at
each other knowingly. Beth had forgotten how annoying Ivy could be. Why had she
been so excited about this reunion anyway? Oh, that’s right. Because she wanted
to show off Drew.

Ivy stretched and yawned again
as if she were a kid woken up too early. All drama—all the time. “I just
can’t do this today. I’m going for a nap so I’ll have the energy for dancing
tonight.” She disappeared in the back room and before long, Beth could hear her
and Parker arguing about her taking the car.

“How will I get back?” his deep
voice asked.

“Just get a ride from someone
else. You’re surrounded by friends.” Her tone hinted of sarcasm.

A hesitation, then the jingle of
keys.

With her back aching from so
much bending over, Beth dragged an armchair over to Sarah. “We’re going to be
here a long time. Might as well sit while we sort through the best and worst of
the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s.” She smirked and sat in Ivy’s abandoned wicker chair.
Feeling warm, she pulled off her baseball cap and set it next to her.

Without Ivy there to distract
them, Sarah and Beth had the items sorted and boxed just in time to call it a
day. After seeing Sarah off, Beth decided to see if Drew was home. For a guy
who wanted to fix up the house all weekend, it didn’t make sense that he wasn’t
answering their home phone. She’d noticed the way the blonde cashier at the
hardware store smiled at him. Her voice on the phone when she called to say
their special ordered chandelier had arrived went from flirtatious to cold when
she realized it was Beth who’d answered. Was Drew flattered? No doubt. Was he
tempted? Good question. He did spend an awful lot of time at the hardware
store.

Sitting in her car, she dialed
home on her cell, but again, no answer. She had a fleeting thought about trying
the hardware store when she realized she’d left her baseball cap inside.