“Not yet,” Helen responded. “She needs to finish that drink.”
“I can hear you,” Maddie said. “I’m not asleep or unconscious yet.”
“Then we’d better wait,” Dana Sue said cheerfully. “More guacamole?”
“No, though you outdid yourself,” Maddie told her. “That stuff made my eyes water.”
Dana Sue looked taken aback. “Too hot? I thought maybe you were just having yourself another little crying jag.”
“I am not prone to crying jags,” Maddie retorted.
“You think we didn’t notice you were crying when we got to the gym?” Helen inquired.
“I was hoping you’d think it was sweat.”
“I’m sure that’s what everyone else thought, but we knew better,” Dana Sue said. “I have to say, I was disappointed you’d shed a single tear over that man.”
“So was I,” Maddie said.
Dana Sue gave her a hard look, then turned to Helen. “We may as well tell her. I don’t think she’s going to mellow out any more than she has already.”
“Okay,” Helen conceded. “Here’s the deal. What have all three of us been complaining about for the past twenty years?”
“Men,” Maddie suggested dryly.
“Besides that,” Helen said impatiently.
“South Carolina’s humidity?”
Helen sighed. “Would you try to be serious for one minute? The gym. We’ve been complaining about that awful gym all our adult lives.”
Maddie regarded her with bafflement. “And it hasn’t done a lick of good, has it? The last time we pitched a fit about the place, Dexter hired Junior Stevens to mop it out…once. The place smelled of Lysol for a week and that was it.”
“Precisely. Which is why Dana Sue and I came up with this idea,” Helen said, then paused for effect. “We want to open a brand-new fitness club, one that’s clean and welcoming and caters to women.”
“We want it to be a place where women can get fit and be pampered and drink a smoothie with their friends after a workout,” Dana Sue added. “Maybe even get a facial or a massage.”
“And you want to do this in Serenity, with its population of five thousand seven hundred and fourteen people?” Maddie asked, not even trying to hide her skepticism.
“Fifteen,” Dana Sue corrected. “Daisy Mitchell had a baby girl yesterday. And believe me, if you’ve seen Daisy lately, you know she’ll be the perfect candidate for one of our postpregnancy classes.”
Maddie studied Helen more intently. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“As serious as a heart attack,” she confirmed. “What do you think?”
“I suppose it could work,” Maddie said thoughtfully. “Goodness knows, that gym is disgusting. It’s no wonder half the women in Serenity refuse to exercise. Of course, the other half can’t get out of their recliners because of all the fried chicken they’ve consumed.”
“Which is why we’ll offer cooking classes, too,” Dana Sue said eagerly.
“Let me guess. New Southern Cuisine,” Maddie said.
“Southern cooking isn’t all about lima beans swimming in butter or green beans cooked with fatback,” Dana Sue said. “Haven’t I taught you anything?”
“Me, yes, absolutely,” Maddie assured her. “But the general population of Serenity still craves their mashed potatoes and fried chicken.”
“So do I,” Dana Sue said. “But ovenbaked’s not half-bad if you do it right.”
“We’re losing focus,” Helen cut in. “There’s a building available over on Palmetto Lane that would be just right for what we have in mind. I think we should take a look at it in the morning. Dana Sue and I fell in love with it right away, Maddie, but we want your opinion.”
“Why? It’s not as if I have anything to compare it to. Besides, I don’t even know what your vision is, not entirely anyway.”
“You know how to make a place cozy and inviting, don’t you?” Helen said. “After all, you took that mausoleum that was the Townsend family home and made it real welcoming.”
“Right,” Dana Sue said. “And you have all sorts of business savvy from helping Bill get his practice established.”
“I put some systems into place for him nearly twenty years ago,” Maddie said, downplaying her contribution to setting up the office. “I’m hardly an expert. If you’re going to do this, you should hire a consultant, devise a business plan, do cost projections. You can’t do something like this on a whim just because you don’t like the way Dexter’s gym smells.”
“Actually, we can,” Helen insisted. “I have enough money saved for a down payment on the building, plus capital expenses for equipment and an operating budget for the first year. Let’s face it, I can use the tax write-off, though I predict this won’t be a losing proposition for long.”
“And I’m going to invest some cash, but mostly my time and my expertise in cooking and nutrition to design a little café and offer classes,” Dana Sue added.
They both looked at Maddie expectantly.
“What?” she demanded. “I don’t have any expertise and I certainly don’t have any money to throw at something this speculative.”
Helen grinned. “You have a bit more than you think, thanks to your fabulous attorney, but we don’t really want your money. We want you to be in charge.”
Maddie regarded them incredulously. “Me? I hate to exercise. I only do it because I know I have to.” She gestured at the cellulite firmly clinging to her thighs. “And we can see how much good that’s doing.”
“Then you’re perfect for this job, because you’ll work really, really hard to make this a place women just like you will want to join,” Helen said.
Maddie shook her head. “Forget it. It doesn’t feel right.”
“Why not?” Dana demanded. “You need work. We need a manager. It’s a perfect match.”
“It feels like some scheme you devised to keep me from starving to death,” Maddie said.
“I already told you that you won’t be starving,” Helen said. “And you get to keep the house, which is long since paid for. Bill was very reasonable once I laid out a few facts for him.”
Maddie studied her friend’s face. Not many people tried explaining anything to Bill, since he was convinced he knew it all. A medical degree did that to some men. And what the degree didn’t accomplish, adoring nurses like Noreen did.
“Such as?” Maddie asked.
“How the news of his impending fatherhood with his un
married nurse might impact his practice here in the conservative, family-oriented town of Serenity,” Helen said without the slightest hint of remorse. “People might not want to take their darling little kiddies to a pediatrician who has demonstrated a complete lack of scruples.”
“You blackmailed him?” Maddie wasn’t sure whether she was shocked or awed.
Helen shrugged. “I prefer to think of it as educating him on the value of the right PR spin. So far people in town haven’t taken sides, but that could change in a heartbeat.”
“I’m surprised his attorney let you get away with that,” Maddie said.
“That’s because you don’t know everything your brilliant attorney knew walking into that room,” Helen said.
“Such as?” Maddie asked again.
“Bill’s nurse had a little thing going with
his
attorney once upon a time. Tom Patterson had his own reasons for wanting to see Bill screwed to the wall.”
“Isn’t that unethical?” Maddie asked. “Shouldn’t he have refused to take Bill’s case or something?”
“He did, but Bill insisted. Tom disclosed his connection to Noreen, but Bill continued to insist. He thought Tom’s thing with Noreen would make him more understanding of his eagerness to get on with life with her. Which just proves that when it comes to human nature your soon-to-be ex really doesn’t have a clue.”
“And you took advantage of all those shenanigans to get Maddie the money she deserves,” Dana Sue said admiringly.
“I did,” Helen confirmed with satisfaction. “If we’d had to go in front of a judge, it might have gone differently, but Bill was especially anxious for a settlement so he could be a proper
daddy to his new baby
before
the ink is dry on the birth certificate. As you reminded him on your way out the door, Maddie, he’s the one in a hurry.”
Helen regarded Maddie intently. “It’s not a fortune, mind you, but you don’t have to worry about money for the time being.”
“I still think I ought to look for a real job,” Maddie said. “However much the settlement is, it won’t last forever, and I’m not likely to have a lot of earning power, not right at first, anyway.”
“Which is why you should take us up on our offer,” Dana Sue said. “This health club could be a gold mine and you’d be a full partner. That’s what you’d get in return for your day-in, day-out running of it all—sweat equity.”
“I don’t see what’s in it for the two of you,” Maddie said. “Helen, you’re in Charleston all the time. There are some fine gyms over there, if you don’t want to go to Dexter’s. And Dana Sue, you could offer cooking classes at the restaurant. You don’t need a spa to do it.”
“We’re trying to be community minded,” Dana Sue said. “This town needs someone to invest in it.”
“I’m not buying it,” Maddie said. “This is about me. You both feel sorry for me.”
“We most certainly do not,” Helen said. “You’re going to be just fine.”
“Then there’s something else, something you’re not telling me,” Maddie persisted. “You didn’t just wake up one day and decide you wanted to open a health club, not even for some kind of tax shelter.”
Helen hesitated, then confessed. “Okay, here’s the whole truth. I need a place to go to work off the stress of my job. My
doctor’s been on my case about my blood pressure. I flatly refuse to start taking a bunch of pills at my age, so he said he’d give me three months to see if a better diet and exercise would help. I’m trying to cut back on my cases in Charleston for a while, so I need a spa right here in Serenity.”
Maddie stared at her friend in alarm. If Helen was cutting back on work, then the doctor must have made quite a case for the risks to her health. “If your blood pressure is that high, why didn’t you say something? Not that I’m surprised given the way you obsess over your job.”
“I didn’t say anything because you’ve had enough on your plate,” Helen said. “Besides, I intend to take care of it.”
“By opening your own gym,” Maddie concluded. “Won’t getting a new business off the ground just add to the stress?”
“Not if
you’re
running it,” Helen said. “Besides, I think all of us doing this together will be fun.”
Maddie wasn’t entirely convinced about the fun factor, but she turned to Dana Sue. “And you? What’s your excuse for wanting to open a new business? Isn’t the restaurant enough?”
“It’s making plenty of money, sure,” Dana Sue said. “But I’m around food all the time. I’ve gained a few pounds. You know my family history. Just about everybody had diabetes, so I need to get my weight under control. I’m not likely to stop eating, so I need to work out.”
“See, we both have our own reasons for wanting to make this happen,” Helen said. “Come on, Maddie. At least look at the building tomorrow. You don’t have to decide tonight or even tomorrow. There’s time for you to mull it over in that cautious brain of yours.”
“I am
not
cautious,” Maddie protested, offended. Once
she’d been the biggest risk-taker among them. All it had taken was the promise of fun and a dare. Had she really lost that? Judging from the expressions on her friends’ faces, she had.
“Oh, please, you weigh the pros and cons and calorie content before you order lunch,” Dana Sue said. “But we love you just the same.”
“Which is why we won’t do this without you,” Helen said. “Even if it
does
put our health at risk.”
Maddie looked from one to the other. “No pressure there,” she said dryly.
“Not a bit,” Helen said. “I have a career. And the doctor says there are all sorts of pills for controlling blood pressure these days.”
“And I have a business,” Dana Sue added. “As for my weight, I suppose we can just continue walking together a couple of times a week.” She sighed dramatically.
“Despite what y’all have said, I’m not entirely convinced it isn’t charity,” Maddie repeated. “The timing is awfully suspicious.”
“It would only be charity if we didn’t expect you to work your butt off to make a success of it,” Helen said. “So, are you in or out?”
Maddie gave it some thought. “I’ll look at the building,” she finally conceded. “But that’s all I’m promising.”
Helen swung her gaze to Dana Sue. “If we’d waited till she had that second margarita, she would have said yes,” Helen claimed, feigning disappointment.
Maddie laughed. “But if I’d had two, you couldn’t have held me to anything I said.”
“She has a point,” Dana Sue agreed. “Let’s be grateful we got a maybe.”
“Have I told you two how glad I am that you’re my friends?” Maddie said, feeling her eyes well up with tears yet again.
“Uh-oh, here she goes again,” Dana Sue said, getting to her feet. “I need to get to work before we all start crying.”
“I never cry,” Helen declared.
Dana Sue groaned. “Don’t even start. Maddie will be forced to challenge you, and before you know it, all of Serenity will be flooded and you’ll both look like complete wrecks when we meet in the morning. Maddie, do you want me to drop you off at home?”
She shook her head. “I’ll walk. It’ll give me time to think.”
“And to sober up before her mama sees her,” Helen taunted.
“That, too,” Maddie agreed.
Mostly, though, she wanted time to absorb the fact that on one of the worst days of her life she’d been surrounded by friends who’d given her a glimmer of hope that her future wasn’t going to be quite as bleak as she’d imagined.
I
t was almost dusk when Maddie walked through the wrought-iron front gate of the monstrosity of a house that had been in the Townsend family for five generations. According to Helen, Bill had reluctantly agreed to let her remain there with the children, since the house would one day be Tyler’s. Staring up at the massive brick facade, Maddie almost regretted winning that point. She would have been happier in something cozier with a white picket fence and some roses. The upkeep on this place could bankrupt her, but Helen assured her she’d made provisions for that, too, in the settlement.
As she opened the front door, she braced herself to deal with her mother. But when she walked into the family room at the back of the house, it was Bill she discovered sitting on the sofa with Katie napping in his arms and the boys lounging in front of the TV, their attention riveted on a show she was pretty sure she’d never allowed them to watch. She immediately stiffened at the sight of some sort of extreme-fighting competition.
One thing at a time, she warned herself. Getting rid of her soon-to-be ex was her first priority.
Before she opened her mouth, though, she allowed herself a long hard look at him, something she hadn’t dared to do earlier. His blond hair was still thick, but there were a few silver strands she’d never noticed before, and an unhealthy pallor beneath his tan. The lines on his face, which once had lent character to his handsome features, made him look tired now. If it was still her business, she’d have been worried about him.
She reminded herself of how furious she’d been a few hours ago. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, reclaiming her earlier anger. “And where is my mother?”
The boys, used to her neutral tone and careful remarks about their father, regarded her with surprise. Bill merely frowned his disapproval.
“She left when I got here. I said I’d stay till you got home. We need to talk,” he said.
“I said all I have to say to you at Helen’s office,” she retorted, standing her ground. “Do I need to repeat it?”
“Maddie, please, let’s not start a scene in front of the kids.”
She knew he was less concerned about that than about having to face any more of her justifiable outrage. Even so, he had a point. Tyler was already looking as if he might leap to her defense. He’d felt compelled to do that too many times lately. He’d been stuffing down his own feelings in an attempt to be supportive to her. It was too much of a burden for a sixteen-year-old boy who’d once idolized his dad.
“Fine,” she said tightly. “Tyler, Kyle, go upstairs and finish your homework. I’ll fix supper as soon as your dad leaves.”
“Mine’s done,” Tyler said, not budging, his expression defiant.
“Mine, too,” Kyle said.
She gave them a warning look that had them scrambling to their feet.
“I’ll take Katie,” Tyler offered, picking up his sleeping sister.
“Goodbye, boys,” Bill called after them.
“Bye, Dad,” Kyle answered. Tyler said nothing.
Bill stared after them, his expression sad. “Tyler’s still furious with me, isn’t he?”
“Can you blame him?” she replied, incapable of dealing with Bill’s injured feelings.
“Of course not, especially with you feeding his resentment every chance you get,” he responded.
“I do not do that,” Maddie said heatedly. “As much as it pains me, I’ve done everything I can to keep them from hating you or seeing how badly you hurt me. Unfortunately, Ty and Kyle are old enough to reach their own conclusions and to see through whatever charade I put on.”
Bill immediately backed down. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ve tried. It’s just so frustrating. The kids and I used to be so close, but now Katie’s the only one who acts as if nothing’s changed.”
“Katie adores you,” Maddie said. “She’s six. Even after all these months, she doesn’t fully understand that you’re never coming back here to live. The boys know exactly what’s going on and that their lives will never be the same. Katie just cries herself to sleep every night when you’re not here to read her a story and kiss her good night. Not a day goes by when she doesn’t ask me what she did wrong and how we can fix it and when you’re coming back for good.”
She thought she caught a hint of guilt on Bill’s face, but then the polite mask she’d gotten used to seeing lately re
turned. She tried to remember the last time his eyes had lit up at the sight of her, the last time he’d actually met her gaze at all. Sadly, she couldn’t. She suspected it was long before he’d announced he was leaving her, most likely in the early days of his affair with Noreen. How had she not noticed such a dramatic change?
“Would you sit down, Maddie?” he said irritably. “I can’t get into this with you looming over me.”
“Into what? Surely there can’t be more bad news. Breaking up our marriage and our family pretty much covered all the bases, didn’t it?”
“You know, Madelyn, sarcasm doesn’t become you.”
“Well, pardon me all to hell!” she snapped, blaming the margaritas for her lack of inhibition. “Sarcasm is pretty much all I have left.”
His gaze narrowed. “You never used to swear.”
“Until recently, I never had anything to swear about,” she told him. “Would you just say whatever’s on your mind and leave? As I understand it, this is no longer your home, so I’d appreciate it if you’d call before coming by again.”
He gave her a defeated look and for an instant, she almost felt sorry for him. He’d made his choice, he was getting everything he wanted, but he didn’t seem all that happy about it. Before she could allow herself to remember the way she’d once loved him, she steeled herself and sat on the edge of a chair opposite him.
“I didn’t want things to turn out like this,” he said, meeting her gaze for the first time in weeks. “I really didn’t.”
Maddie sighed. “I know. Things happen.”
“If it weren’t for the baby…” His voice trailed off.
Maddie’s temper stirred. “Don’t you dare say that you’d
have stayed with me if it weren’t for Noreen getting pregnant. That demeans her and me.”
He stared at her blankly. “How? I’m just trying to be honest.”
“It suggests you’re only with her because of the baby and it says you think I’d take you back after you cheated on me if there weren’t a baby to consider. You had an affair, Bill. I’m not sure I could have forgiven that.”
“Maybe not right away, but we might have fought harder to get back on track, to keep our family intact.”
“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly. “Maybe we would have, but that ship has pretty much sailed.”
“Can you at least promise me you’ll do what you can to help me fix things with the kids? I miss them, Maddie. I thought after all these months things would be better, but they’re not. I’m running out of ideas.”
“What you’re running out of is patience,” she retorted. “You wanted everything to fall neatly into place the instant you said goodbye to me, but unfortunately kids’ emotions can’t turn on a dime. They’re hurt and angry and confused. You’re going to have to work to change that. I can’t just wave a magic wand and make it okay. I agreed to let you have as much time with them as you want. What more do you expect?”
“An advocate,” he suggested.
“It’s one thing for me not to say anything negative about you to the children,” she told him. “But I’m not going to be a cheerleader for dear old dad.”
“Did you know that Tyler has flatly refused to set foot in my new place as long as Noreen is there? What am I supposed to do, ask her to leave? It’s her apartment.”
“Ty didn’t say anything to me about that,” she said, just a little pleased that her son had taken such a stand. She knew, though, that he and his father needed to mend fences. Bill had always been an important part of their oldest son’s life. Despite his busy schedule, Bill had never missed a ball game, a school conference or any other activity that meant something to Tyler. Sixteen was the worst possible age to have that kind of supportive relationship disrupted.
“I’ll talk to him,” she offered, backing off her refusal to become Bill’s advocate. She would do it for Ty’s sake. “But,” she reminded Bill, “he’s sixteen and has a mind of his own. I can’t force him to do anything. You may have to give it some time, work a little harder to win him back.”
“I’d appreciate anything you can do.” He stood up. “Well, that’s all I really wanted.”
“Okay, fine.”
“And to say one more time how sorry I am.”
She felt the sting of tears in her eyes and blinked hard to keep them from falling. Just in case one escaped, she turned away. “Me, too,” she said.
She kept waiting for him to leave, but she wasn’t prepared for the quick brush of his lips on her cheek before he strode out of the family room and out of the house.
Now the tears fell unchecked. “Well, damn you all to hell, Bill Townsend,” she muttered, hating that the quick, careless kiss had meant anything at all.
“Mom?”
Swiping at her tears, she gazed up at Tyler, who was studying her worriedly. “I’m okay,” she assured him.
“No, you’re not,” he said, then added heatedly, “I hate him
for what he’s done to you. He’s such a lying hypocrite. All that talk he used to give me about how you’re supposed to treat someone you care about was just a crock.”
“Ty, he’s your dad. You don’t hate him,” she chided. “And what he told you is the way it’s supposed to be. People who care about each other should be kind and supportive and faithful. Unfortunately life doesn’t always follow the rules.”
“You can’t make me love him,” he said, his tone unyielding. “I heard what he asked you. He wants you to convince me he’s not a jerk.”
“He loves you. He came over here because he misses spending time with you.”
“I’m not the one who left,” Tyler said bitterly. “He is. Why should I go out of my way to see him, especially when
she’s
around all the time?”
Maddie moved to the sofa and held out her hand. “Come here.”
He hesitated, then came closer and awkwardly took her outstretched hand.
“Sit here beside me,” she said. When he was seated, she turned and met his gaze. “Ty, you’re old enough to understand that things don’t always work out with grown-ups just because we want them to. It’s not anybody’s fault.”
“Are you telling me that Dad having an affair and getting Noreen pregnant is as much
your
fault as it is his?”
Her lips curved in a small smile at that. “Well, no, I can’t say that, but obviously things weren’t good between your dad and me or he wouldn’t have turned to her.”
“Did you know they weren’t good?”
“No,” she told him candidly. In hindsight, the signs were there, tiny fissures so small she could be forgiven for missing
them, but at the time she’d thought their marriage was as solid as anyone’s could be.
“Then it
was
all his fault,” Tyler concluded, still being fiercely loyal to her.
As much as she wanted to agree with him, she was determined to be fair. “Spend some time with him, Ty, just the two of you. Listen to his side of things,” she encouraged. “You’ve always been so close. Don’t lose that.”
“He’ll just make a bunch of excuses. I don’t want to hear them.” Ty regarded her warily. “Are you going to
make
me spend time with him?”
“I won’t force you to, no,” she said. “But I will be disappointed in you if you don’t at least try to meet him halfway.”
“Why?” he asked incredulously. “He walked out on you, Mom. On all of us. Why do we need to be fair?”
“He didn’t walk out on you, Kyle and Katie,” she said quietly. “He isn’t divorcing you. Your dad loves every one of you.”
“Man, I don’t get you,” her son said angrily, yanking his hand away and standing up. “How come I’m the only one in this house who sees Dad for the scumbag he is?”
“Tyler Townsend, don’t talk about your father like that!” she said.
His gaze locked with hers, then eventually faltered. “Whatever,” he mumbled and stalked out of the room.
Maddie watched him go, her heart aching. “Damn you, Bill Townsend,” she said for the second time that night.
The old Victorian house on the corner of Main and Palmetto Lane was at the western fringe of downtown Serenity. Not that there was much of a downtown anymore, Maddie thought as she stood with Helen and Dana Sue.
The hardware store had stuck it out, as had the drugstore with its old-fashioned soda fountain, but Willard’s Grocery had been empty for a decade, ever since a superstore with discount grocery prices had opened twenty-five miles away on the outskirts of Charleston. It had quickly become evident that residents would rather drive all that way for a bargain than pay a few cents more to keep a local merchant in business.
The white paint on the Victorian was peeling, the shutters were askew and the porch sagged. The lawn hadn’t been cut in ages and most of the picket fence was broken. Maddie dimly remembered the place as it had been when old Mrs. Hartley was alive. Yellow roses had tumbled over the white fence, the porch and sidewalk had been swept daily and the shutters had gleamed with dark green paint.
Mrs. Hartley, who must have been in her eighties by then, had sat on the porch every afternoon with a pitcher of iced sweet tea and welcomed anyone who happened to walk by. More than once, Maddie had climbed onto the swing hanging from the porch rafters and eaten sugar cookies while her grandmother had visited with the elderly woman. Nana Vreeland and Mrs. Hartley had been witness to most of the changes in Serenity through the years, and Maddie knew she’d absorbed their love for the small town with its friendly people, old white clapboard churches and acres of green space with a small lake in the middle that was home to a family of swans. Free summer concerts in the bandstand by the lake drew everyone in town on Saturday nights.
Despite Serenity’s charm, a lot of people Maddie’s age had been eager to leave and never come back, but not Maddie or Bill. They’d never wanted to live anywhere else. Nor had Helen
or Dana Sue. The slower pace and sense of community meant something to all of them.
“Boy, this place brings back a lot of memories,” Maddie said at last. “What a shame that none of Mrs. Hartley’s kids wanted the property or made any effort to take care of it.”