The Beach House (28 page)

“Todd Brooks.” He repeated the name, his voice confused.

“Our neighbor Todd Brooks.”

“Really?” Pleasantly surprised now. He liked Todd. He didn’t even mind that she and Todd went to the gym together. It saved on gas. “He’s out there? You ran into each other?”

“Cam! Put two and two together!”

“Huh?”

“It is not a coincidence! He’s here because I’m here! He’s here because you’re not and it’s my birthday and we’ve been flirting for four years and now he wants to do something besides just flirt!”

Silence.

Char felt like a word-gushing fire hydrant. “If you cared at all, maybe you would have noticed. Maybe you wouldn’t just sit and watch television. Maybe you’d remember September twenty-seventh and at least have called. Maybe I wouldn’t be sitting here in this fancy restaurant seriously considering my alternatives with the neighbor guy!”

More silence.

Tears streamed down her face, but the fire hydrant’s nozzle twisted shut and the flow of words stopped. The anger was gone as well. She wondered dazedly what percentage of wives called their husbands to discuss plans to commit adultery.

A heavy sigh blew in the line. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. What are you going to do?”

“What can I do?”

“I don’t know that, either.”

“I care, Char.”

“You could have fooled me, C.P. Goodbye.”

She disconnected before he could reply. At that point, there was absolutely nothing he could say that would make any difference whatsoever.

Jo sat on the edge of the bed and pressed a damp cloth to Molly’s forehead. Even in the low lamplight her face appeared drained of all color.

“Moll, I can get something for you. I’ve got my prescription pad with me. A pharmacy is down the street.”

She grimaced. “Throwing up comes with the territory, especially when I’m stupid enough to eat the spiciest kung pao I’ve ever tasted in my life. Promise me you won’t say ‘Chinese’ in front of me for a long, long time?”

“Sure.”

“Hey. Don’t look so worried. I’m fine. I will be fine.”

“Can we get you anything else?” Jo glanced at the nightstand, where she’d placed water bottles, saltines, and her cell phone for Molly to use.

“What else is there?” Her mouth twisted, a brave attempt at a smile. “I can’t believe Andie walked three blocks in the dark to buy those crackers. Make that Spunky Andie. Let’s keep calling her that so she doesn’t lose sight of it. Okay?”

“It’s a deal. Think you can sleep now?”

“Mm-hmm.” She closed her eyes. “You’ll leave the door unlocked for Char?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“You’ll wake me if she doesn’t come home soon?”

“No. Why would I do that?”

“So we can go find her.”

“Yeah, right. Go to sleep.”

Molly smiled through a groan. “One for all and all for one.”

Jo stood. “Do you want this light on?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes remained shut. “Maybe I’ll read.”

“Okay. Yell if we can do anything.”

“Mmm.”

“Moll?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry for being such a smart mouth about the way you mother your kids.”

“No worries. I’m sorry for attacking your chewing habits.”

“That hardly mattered. I attacked you personally.”

Molly looked at her now through dark lashes that obscured the gray-green eyes. “And I’m sorry for thinking you’re a snob who will never get it.”

“I am a snob.” She waited, unsure if she wanted to hear more. “I’m still envious of your thick eyelashes.”

“Chicken. You’re changing the subject.”

Jo thought of Andie fighting her fears with every ounce of courage she could rally. And of Molly, so intensely searching for herself during a few short days away from everyday distractions that surely could not leave her time to think.

Wasn’t all of that the point? The reason Jo had wanted to be with her friends? To feel their collective strength and battle her own fears and find that piece of herself she had lost?

“Okay,” Jo said. “I am a snob who will never get what?”

“That God loves you unconditionally.”

She sank onto the bed again, pushed there by two giant hands, one emitting God’s radiant love, the other His blazing fire. It was the Molly Effect, full-on assault.

“Moll,” she whispered. “I can’t reconcile the fire and the love. I’m the poster child for filth. If I get close, He’ll burn me up.”

“I keep telling you, that’s why Jesus came. He forgives the junk. All you have to do is ask. Andie will forgive you too. All you have to do…sorry, I…” A soft snore rattled in her throat.

Molly was fast asleep! God oozing from her every pore and she was fast asleep!

Of all the nerve.

Jo walked out into the living room. Andie was nowhere to be seen.

Except in Jo’s imagination.

She’ll forgive you too
. Molly’s words referred to Andie, to Jo’s confession of making out with Paul after the rehearsal dinner.

Maybe she would just go to bed. Sleep in the beach house had been deeper than she’d experienced in a long time without the aid of a pill. Whether it was angels, leftover Faith Fontaine vibes, recalled Babette memories, or a combination of all three, that beach house
presence
induced rest. Soul-soothing, dead-to-the-world slumber.

Now, though, thoughts of her friends intruded, zapping the need to escape. If a friend would not let a friend drive drunk, neither would she ignore needs she might be able to meet. Molly was ill, Char was confused about where she stood with them, and Andie…

Andie needed to hear how she had been wronged by Jo. The air between them needed to be cleared. Perhaps that sort of thing gave more space to angels, Faith vibes, and Babette memories.

Perhaps it gave space to the radiant love that wasn’t so ethereal anymore.

Jo found Andie outdoors standing in the dark at the seawall, gazing toward the ocean.

“Hey.” Jo stepped beside her.

“Hey. How’s Molly?”

“She’s asleep. She should have dinner out of her system, anyway.”

“Poor thing.”

“But it’s so worth it, right? At least that’s what I hear, especially from mommies when they first hold their brand-new baby. By comparison, what’s a few months of barfing, a few hours of working a bowling ball from the womb?”

Andie chuckled. “That’s true. It is so worth it.”

Jo faced the ocean but didn’t see it. She saw only her old friends giving birth. Eight children between them. Why hadn’t Jo been a part of even one’s entrance into the world?
Distance and marital status
. Those seemed silly excuses.

“Jo, it must be unbearably hard. Delivering all those babies and not having your own.”

She leaned heavily against the wall, pushed again by those giant hands. No, only by one this time. The one emitting blazing fire. She deserved His wrath.

Andie said, “It’s none of my business—”

“Of course it is, Andie. We reunited because we had a great friendship and wanted to experience that closeness again. That closeness of sharing all our business.” She turned and slid sideways up onto the wall. “I’m not sure how I ended up an obstetrician. I never really planned on having children. My parents cured me of any innate tendency in that area. But when I was going to school and helping Ernie at the clinic, I most loved working with the pregnant women. And so it seemed an obvious choice to go that direction. I think it had something to do with observing the miracle of life over and over. I couldn’t get enough of that. Still can’t.”

Jo stopped short of addressing Andie’s comment about the profession being difficult for her. Did she really have to go there? Must she describe how some days it was indeed unbearably difficult because a hysterectomy at age thirty-six made it so?

All Jo’s determination to reconnect with her friends fizzled. Maybe their deeply personal journeys were no one else’s business. She swung her legs over the top of the seawall and twisted around to face the ocean.

Andie sat beside her. “Oomph,” she grunted as she pulled her legs up one at a time. “In the water I feel so light and athletic! This wall is a little reality check. I should have skipped the fourth egg roll.” She sighed loudly. “It just went down so easily. There was Paul in my mind, talking me out of tomorrow’s flight of fancy. ‘Andrea.’” She lowered her voice. “ ‘Do you truly believe that going to a motel is really the best use of your time and money?’ ”

Jo patted her shoulder. “Of course it’s the best use of them. It’ll be like one of those camps where they challenge people to move way beyond their comfort zone by staying out in the woods all night alone or rock climbing.”

“That’s what I think. I also think while I’m out there, maybe I’ll find some new tapes to play in my head. Twenty years is quite long enough to filter every thought through ‘But Andrea, if you do it my way, won’t that be better?’”

Jo shivered. The night air remained balmy, but the thought of Paul, year after year, crushing the spunk right out of Andie chilled her to the bone.

Was it really her place to add even more weight to the power he held over her friend?

But which was the worst offense? To add weight or to withhold the truth?

The truth would free Jo of some guilt. It would clear the air between them.

But it would hurt her…

And yet, maybe telling the truth was like Andie’s work, like kneading toxins loose in order to open the way for healing energy to flow.

Andie said, “You must think I’m such a ninny. You’re so strong and independent.”

“Hon, I spent years drinking myself into oblivion on a regular basis. That makes me the ninny. You’ve just been doing the best you could, taking care of your children and home while living under a smothering personality. And from the descriptions of your sons and your work, I think you’ve done a superior job.”

“I’m not too sure about that.”

“Well, you should be. You know what I’ve noticed since we arrived?”

“What?”

“Our first two days together, you said ‘Paul’ in every other sentence. He thought this, he thought that, he would say this or that. You’re bringing him up less and less.”

“Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” She paused and looked at Andie. “But I have to bring him up. There was…uh…something happened. A long time ago.”

She turned toward Andie.

“I want to ask your forgiveness. I did a stupid, stupid thing.” Jo felt her throat close up. Her pulse raced. Her head pounded. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I drank too much at your wedding rehearsal dinner.”

“Jo, I forgave you for that—”

“I know. You always did. Every time I messed things up you did. But that’s not what I’m talking about. Paul drank too much as well. And after he took you home, we met at a bar. He made a pass. I let him make another one. We sat in a booth and…made out. Then I remembered Ernie was on his way to pick me up after his shift. End of story.”

Andie’s face was hidden by shadows, unreadable.