“I will.” Veronica held her index finger to her lips. Every time either of the kids went to their room to get something they left the door open. Veronica didn't feel like making a big stink over it; after all, they weren't used to having to close their bedroom door. But she'd make sure both bedroom doors were closed, to give the message that these rooms were off-limits.
It surprised her to see the door to the girls' room closed. Lorinda and Simone must not have come back inside lately, or else they remembered to close the door out of consideration for the sleeping Francine.
She opened the door carefully. She heard grunting noises the moment she stepped in the room. She gasped. There, on top of Lorinda's white paneled bed, lay a couple in the throes of passion.
“My God,” she exclaimed aloud.
All movement on the bed stopped. The man turned around, and she recognized the embarrassed face of another one of Lucy's friends, not one of the early arrivals, but one who had driven out from the city with his wife. His
wife,
who sat out back with friends, blissfully unaware of her husband breaking a commandment like it meant no more than a cheap drinking glass.
The anxious-looking female beneath him raised her head just high enough to peek out, but Camille recognized her face, too.
Francine. Who'd been so tired.
The last straw.
“I'm sorry. I'm really sorry,” the man said as he rushed to pull up his pants.
He didn't even know her name, and she couldn't remember his, either. But she didn't
have
to know his name. He, on the other hand, should have made it his business to know whose home he was in. “I'm sure you are,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster, considering she'd just seen his naked ass. “I expect to see both of you outside in the next five minutes.” She turned and left the room.
Outside an eager Lorinda ran to her. “Mommy, where's the ball? Simone said you were getting it.”
She slapped her thigh. “I forgot it. I'm sorry.”
“I'll get it.”
“No!” The startled look on her daughter's face made her soften her tone. “You guys can find another game to play that doesn't require a ball. I don't want you going in the house until I tell you it's all right. And that goes for Simone, too. Now, Mommy has to talk to Daddy and Aunt Lucy about something important.” She placed a finger under Lorinda's chin. “Remember, now, no going in the house for
anything
until Daddy or I say it's all right. Understand?”
“Okay, Mommy.”
“You make sure your sister knows that. I'm counting on you, now.” Veronica gently pinched Lorinda's cheek, then went off to find Norman.
She spotted him talking to Milo as he repositioned chicken quarters on the grill surface with a long-handled spatula. Eddie and Charles had both come to the party, but, probably smarting over having their weekend visits all but eliminated by Norman, mingled with Lucy's guests rather than with their little brother. “Excuse me,” she said. “Norman, I need to speak to you right away.”
His curiosity showed on his face. “I'll take over,” Milo offered.
“Thanks.” He gestured for Veronica to lead the way. “What's up?” he asked when they moved out of hearing range.
She told him what she'd just witnessed in the girls' room.
“They were doing
what?
”
“Shh. Sex, Norman. They were doing it right on top of Lorinda's bed. Didn't even have the decency to turn down the bedspread. Which I'll have to wash,” she added, making a face.
“The hell you will. Lucy made this mess by inviting these lowlifes to our house, and she'll clean it up. What did you say to them?”
“I told them that I expected them to rejoin the party right away.”
“I don't want them here at all. They disrespected our house big-time, Veronica. They need to go home.”
She knew he meant business by his use of her full name. “That'll be a little embarrassing for him, since he'll have to give his wife a reason. And now that I think of it, I think she's here with someone, too.”
“After you walked in on them, they can't possibly be any more embarrassed. I want them off my property.”
“Norman, don't you think Lucy ought to be the one to tell them? They're her guests.”
“That's fine. She ought to know about the disgraceful way her friends behaved in someone else's house, anyway, so she'll know why we'll never host another party for her. But if she doesn't want to tell them they have to leave,
I'll
tell them.”
“Hopefully they'll realize they should go anyway, under the circumstances.”
“There's Lucy now. Come on, let's fill her in, and then all three of us will go talk to those adulterers.”
Lucy appeared stunned at hearing what had transpired. “I thought I saw a little flirting going on between Francine and Lymanâ”
So that was his name,
Veronica thought.
“âbut how dare they use your home to start an affair, and right under the noses of his wife and her boyfriend.” Her eyes darted around the yard. “Are they back out here with everybody?”
“Lucy, we don't want them back. We want them out of here right now.”
“Out? But Norman, that's not fair. What'll they tell their partners if you throw them out?”
“It's not my problem, Lucy. They should have thought about that before they decided to have sex in my house, on my eleven-year-old daughter's bed.”
“You've got to admit that takes a lot of nerve, Lucy,” Veronica said. “Especially when his wife or her boyfriend could have come looking for them at any time.”
“They were in my daughters' room,” Norman repeated. “Lorinda or Simone could have walked in on them.”
Veronica nervously chewed her lower lip. She didn't mention that Lorinda had been about to retrieve a ball from her room; it would only serve to infuriate Norman even more.
Lucy cast an incredulous stare at Veronica, then at Norman. “I understand they showed horrible judgment, but you actually plan on telling them to leave?”
“No,” Norman said calmly. “
You're
going to do it.”
“Me? It's not
my
house.”
“No, it isn't. But they're
your
guests. Veronica and I sure as hell didn't invite them.” Norman took her arm. “Come on, Vee, let's go.”
Lyman and Francine, now fully clothed, stood quietly talking in the living room, looking up expectantly at the sight of the threesome approaching them.
Lyman spoke first, and with his words Veronica knew Francine had coached him on their names. “Norman, Veronica, Lucy,” he began. “I can't tell you how sorry we are about what happened. It wasn't planned, believe me. It just happened. We got caught up in the moment.” He met Norman's eyes. “You know how it is when you get the urge.”
“I may know how it is, Lyman,” Norman said coldly, “but I'm not into cheating on my wife. And even if I were, if I were in someone else's home and my wife was right outside I'd manage to cool it until a more appropriate time.”
“I'm sorry, too,” Francine said, practically crying. “Honestly.”
“I believe you,” Lucy said. “But what were you two thinking of?”
“Uh, you didn't mention anything about this to Barbara or Danny, did you?” Lyman asked.
“No. I'm not interested in doing that,” Norman answered in an unfriendly tone. “I just want to make it clear that my wife and I won't tolerate certain acts being committed in our home.”
“In that case, it might be best if we just forget the whole thing,” Lyman suggested. “I'd like to get back to Barbara before she comes looking for me.”
Norman and Veronica's eyes both focused on Lucy, who said nothing.
“Wait, Lyman,” Norman said. “Since my sister doesn't want to say this, I will. I'm sorry, but I think the best thing to do is for both of you to leave.”
Their distress showed on their faces. “Leave!”
“We think it's best,” Veronica said firmly.
“But that puts me in a bad spot. What am I supposed to tell Barbara?” Lyman asked. He caught Norman's stone-faced expression and sighed in defeat. “Go on out now, Francine. Tell Danny you're still not feeling well. At least you'll have an excuse for leaving. I'll come up with something, but we shouldn't do it at the same time.”
Francine nodded. “I'm really sorry,” she repeated weakly to Norman and Veronica before leaving.
When she left Lyman tried again. “I wish you wouldn't do this,” he said. “You've really put me in a spot.”
Veronica spoke quietly. “I think it's a little late to worry about that.”
He stared at her. She saw Norman's eyes narrow, as if he dared Lyman to say something to her. She held her breath, fearing a physical altercation between the two. But “Yeah,” was all he said.
“I think we should all go outside now,” Norman suggested. “Our guests are going to start to wonder what we're up to in here.” He turned to Lyman and made a sweeping gesture. “After you.”
Head shaking as if to chide himself for his own stupidityâor perhaps out of annoyance at Norman for forcing him to leave midpartyâLyman headed for the back door.
“Well, that's over,” Veronica remarked.
“Maybe for you,” Lucy said, “but neither one of them will probably ever speak to me again.”
Norman turned to her. “I don't see why you're upset, Lucy. You didn't tell them to leave, even though I still think it would have been better if it came from you. So your reputation is still intact.” Sarcasm radiated from his last sentence.
“Norman, you're not being fair.”
“Incidentally, Lucy,” Veronica said, “I've decided to switch your room. I'm going to let the girls sleep in the guest room and put you in their room, so you might want to wash the linens on Lorinda's bed before you sleep in it tonight.” She took a moment to savor the discomforted look on her sister-in-law's face before taking Norman's arm and leaving with him.
By this time Camille and Reuben had gathered around the grill with Dawn and Milo. Both of the men tended to the chicken. “Thanks a lot for watching the meat for me, fellas,” Norman said. “Hope I didn't put you out too much.”
“Hey, this is good practice for me,” Reuben replied. “I'm still trying to master the art of grilling chicken.”
“The last time he tried it the insides came out pink,” Camille said with a laugh. “I had to put them in the oven to finish cooking.”
“Tattletale,” he shot back playfully.
“Milo makes great chicken,” Dawn stated, pride in her voice. “We used to grill all the time on our terrace in Brooklyn.”
“Tell me, guys,” Veronica began, “were any of you approached by any of the guests and asked to bring them to your pool?”
“Our pool?” Dawn repeated quizzically.
“You must mean the Arlington Acres pool,” Reuben said.
“Why would anyone ask them that?” Norman asked as Veronica nodded. Then she saw his shoulders stiffen. “Don't tell me that Lucyâ”
“Did you notice that swimsuit her friend Anita was wearing? When I reminded her we don't have a pool she said Lucy told her that they'd be able to use the pool where our friends live. I never got a chance to ask Norman to look into it.”
“Well, nobody said anything to me,” Camille said.
“Me, neither,” Dawn added. “And no one can even get in the pool without a key. I certainly wouldn't give my key to anyone. They charge twenty-five dollars to replace lost ones. Maybe Lucy's friend just wanted an excuse to walk around in that outfit. I did see her in it. It's fabulous,” she said admiringly. The kind of outfit that she would have bought in a heartbeat in the days before they bought their house. How long had it been since she'd bought something new? “Besides, how would they get over to Tobyhanna?”
“Don't ask,” Veronica said quietly. “But I'm glad no one said anything to either of you.”
“Hey, there's a buzz going on about something,” Reuben remarked.
Veronica looked at the guests and saw groups of people whispering among each other and pointing with their chins. Others covered half-open mouths with their fingertips. She knew gossip when she saw it. Francine had already taken leave with her date, and she guessed that word had circulated that Lyman and his wife were leaving as well. The rest of Lucy's friends undoubtedly found that strange. Veronica wondered how many of them had seen Lyman slipping into the house while Francine was allegedly asleep. Her own strained expression when she and Norman brought Lucy to confront the two might have been noticed as well.