Authors: Sarah Pekkanen
But now she was the one with power. Gary wanted her back.
“Savannah, what are you going to
do
?” Allie asked.
“I haven’t exactly figured that part out yet,” Savannah said.
She was meeting the crewman at ten o’clock, which was probably why she’d blurted out that precise time. She had no idea if Gary would show up or not—he’d have to scramble to get coverage at work, plus find a flight and locate the villa—but she certainly wasn’t going to wait around to see if he managed it.
“Um, Savannah?” Tina was saying. “Do you really think Gary’s going to come here?”
Savannah smiled and put on her sunglasses. Tina and Allie were freaking out, but for some reason she felt calmer than she’d been in a long time. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
* * *
Allie stood outside Pauline’s room, debating what to do.
The door was cracked, but she couldn’t hear any noise from inside. She started to turn away, then Pauline called out, “Is someone there?”
“It’s just me. Allie.”
“Come in,” Pauline said.
Allie pushed open the door, but she didn’t step inside.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m sorry to bother you. Savannah went down to the beach to tell the guys, but I thought you should know, too, since you’re our hostess. There’s a chance her husband, Gary, might join us here after all.”
Pauline was sitting all the way across the expansive room, in a chair by the open doors to the balcony. She stared at Allie, not responding, and Allie grew so nervous she began to ramble. “It’s kind of unclear. He might come tonight . . . but he might not show up, too. I know that sounds sort of nutty . . . Anyway, that’s all I wanted to tell you . . .”
Pauline still didn’t say anything, and Allie was suddenly seized by an awful thought:
She knows Dwight kissed me.
Finally, Pauline said, “Okay.”
Relief washed over Allie, and she turned to go, but then Pauline called out her name.
“Can you come in for a minute?” Pauline asked. “And close the door behind you.”
Uh-oh,
Allie thought, but she obeyed. She felt as if she was walking a plank as she took slow steps from the door to the chair opposite Pauline’s. Her feet were bare, and the wood underneath them felt cold and unforgiving. She tried to think of an excuse to exit the room, but her mind seemed frozen.
“How’s your mom doing?” she blurted, trying to steer the conversation into a safe direction, but Pauline ignored her.
“Can I ask you something?” Pauline said in a voice that was close to a whisper. “Have you ever kept something from your husband? Something big?”
Allie’s knees buckled, and she dropped into the matching chair opposite Pauline’s. Her mouth was dry.
Luckily, Pauline didn’t wait for an answer. “I have.” She
inhaled and glanced out toward the water. “It’s such a beautiful day, isn’t it?”
Allie nodded. She was completely confused, but here, at last, was a question she could answer. “It is. It’s really beautiful.”
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this,” Pauline said. “But you seem . . . kindhearted. And you’re a social worker. So people must tell you their problems all the time.”
“They do,” Allie said carefully. “But usually they’re clients, and there’s a kind of structure to it . . . I try to link them with other resources to help them. I’m not like a psychiatrist.”
She couldn’t remember when she’d felt so intensely uncomfortable. She didn’t want to hear Pauline’s secret. She didn’t even want to be alone with Dwight’s wife!
“Still,” Pauline said. “You know that everyone is flawed. And that sometimes we do things that hurt others, even if we don’t mean to.”
“That’s true,” Allie said quickly. “Most of the time we don’t mean to.”
“So I think you’d understand,” Pauline said.
Allie braced herself—oh, the irony if Pauline confessed an infidelity to her!—but Pauline just asked another of her cryptic questions. “Do you think most people are forgiving?”
“Yes,” Allie said. Maybe it was the optimist in her, but she believed that most personal grudges were born out of hurt, not innate hatred, and that many could be resolved.
“I do, too,” Pauline said. “At least, I hope so.”
Pauline looked older than she had a few days ago, Allie thought suddenly. She’d changed—or something had changed her. She was such a small woman. Her bones were fine and her shoulders were narrow. For a woman with presence, she took up so little physical space.
“I had an abortion,” Pauline said. “I was twenty years old. It was during my junior year in college.”
Allie nodded and kept her face neutral, even though abortion conjured strong feelings in her. She believed in the importance of allowing women a choice—and yet, she wouldn’t exist if her birth mother had listened to the advice of everyone around her. Allie supported a woman’s right to choose on a philosophical and legal level, but not on a raw, emotional one.
“Does Dwight know?” she asked.
“No,” Pauline said. “I never told him.”
They’re having trouble getting pregnant,
Allie thought suddenly. But Dwight didn’t know that Pauline
could
get pregnant—was that why she hadn’t brought up going to a fertility specialist? Allie couldn’t reveal she knew that highly personal fact, of course. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“Do you think I should tell him?” Pauline said.
“You’re the only person who can decide that,” Allie said. No way was she getting in the middle of this.
“It’s . . . weighing on me,” Pauline said. “The secrets we keep from each other. We all have them, you know. Do your best friends know everything about you? Does your husband? I think sometimes we even keep our deepest secrets from ourselves.”
She glanced at Allie, and something changed in her eyes. It was almost as if she was surprised to see Allie sitting there. Allie had experienced that before with clients—sometimes, they seemed to feel she was a blank slate to project their thoughts and feelings onto. They didn’t always see her as a person.
“I’m sorry,” Pauline said. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. This is your vacation, after all.” She tried to laugh, but the sound was weak and forced.
“Allie?” Tina’s voice floated through the hallway, sounding slightly muffled from traveling through the closed door. She must have been checking Allie and Ryan’s room next door. “Are you up here?”
“Right here,” Allie called loudly. “I’m with Pauline in her room.”
Thank God,
she thought when she heard a knock a moment later.
“Oh, hi!” Tina said, poking in her head. “Sorry to interrupt . . . I just wanted to let you know the guys are back from the beach and everyone’s having happy hour on the patio.”
“That sounds great,” Allie said as she stood up. She wiped her damp palms on her shorts. “Pauline? Will you come with us?”
Disappointment flitted across Pauline’s face, but it disappeared quickly. “Of course,” she said. “I’ll be there in a minute. Go on ahead.”
A tiny part of Allie felt guilty as she hurried out of the room. Pauline was clearly yearning for a heart-to-heart—a chance to spill her secrets and feel the absolution that a confession carried. Allie usually didn’t mind the fact that people with problems seemed drawn to her, but right now, she couldn’t spare the compassion.
For the first time in her life, she was tired of helping others.
MEN WERE IDIOTS, TINA
thought as she watched Dwight and Gio slam into each other.
They
could
be relaxing in the hot tub, sipping Kahlúa-spiked mudslides and feeling strong jets untangle the knots that always seemed to form between shoulder blades. But instead, they were grunting and sweating and cursing as they tried, mostly unsuccessfully, to throw a ball through a hoop.
“Barbarians,” Savannah said, and Tina grinned.
Ever since their fight, Savannah had been casually friendly with Gio, but she hadn’t crossed the line into flirting. That must’ve been a challenge for Savannah, who could flirt with a rock, Tina mused. And Gio was being extra solicitous, too, keeping his hand on Tina’s knee during lunch and bringing her a mudslide while she sat in the hot tub. He’d barely even looked at Savannah. They were forgiven, both of them, Tina decided. Just as long as nothing like it ever happened again.
But the incident had made Tina realize how long it had been since she’d had a harmless little crush on anyone. When she and Gio were first married and she was working at Children’s Hospital, there was a physical therapist named Steven whom
Tina loved talking to—he was funny and energetic and kept her spirits high whenever she bumped into him during a rough shift. They’d eat lunch together every few weeks, and Steven would talk about the various women he was dating. The tingle of attraction was never mentioned—until the holiday party when Steven had too much to drink.
“No!” she’d said, putting a hand on his chest to push him away when he tried to kiss her.
Tina didn’t want to make out with him—she just enjoyed knowing someone other than her husband found her attractive. Oh, how she missed that sensation! But these days, the only males she came into contact with were pimply teenage baggers at the grocery store who committed the ultimate offense of calling her “ma’am.” Even her UPS delivery person was a woman, which seemed completely unfair, considering the TV ads that all but promised hot guys with good legs.
She took another sip of her mudslide and sighed as she sank deeper into the bubbling water, feeling the last bit of tension seep out of her limbs. The doctor had diagnosed Sammy with a minor stomach flu, and Allie’s mom reported that after a lime Popsicle and a few viewings of
Sesame Street,
he seemed to be rallying. Everything was fine. Better than fine.
Except . . . her eyes flitted toward the basketball court again, and she frowned. Gio was bumping Dwight repeatedly with his chest, harder than seemed necessary. Dwight’s body rocked backward with each blow. But Dwight was about six inches taller than Gio, and he managed to shoot the ball through the air, just out of reach of Gio’s straining fingertips.
“Damn!” Gio said as the ball swished through the hoop.
“What’s the score? Eight–four?” Dwight asked.
“Rub it in,” Gio said.
“Your macho man doesn’t like to lose,” Savannah observed.
“Tell me about it,” Tina said, keeping her voice light. But the
conversation she’d had with Allie came back to her: Was Gio resentful that Dwight could afford trips like this one, while Gio could barely manage to take his family to a cheap motel at the shore every summer?
She took another sip of her drink and kept her eyes on the basketball court. Ryan had left his shirt down on the beach and had gone to get it. He seemed to be taking a really long time. She wished he’d get back and join the game.
“That makes eleven,” Dwight said as he shot another basket.
“Ten!” Gio argued. “You were nowhere near the three-point line!”
“Yes I was!” Dwight said.
“Whatever,” Gio said. “You want to play that way? Fine.”
Tina set down her drink on the hot tub’s ledge and sat up straighter.
On the next play, Gio crashed into Dwight, knocking him to the ground, then went in under the basket for a layup.
“Eleven–six,” Gio said, grinning.
Dwight got up without a word, moving slowly and rubbing his knee, and Gio bounced the ball to him. Dwight moved in to make a shot, and Gio smashed him again, landing on top of Dwight as Dwight fell to the ground.
“Stop fouling him!”
Everyone turned to look at Allie, who was standing up in the hot tub. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and water dripped off her body.
“Gio, you’re acting like a big bully!” she yelled. “Just knock it off!”
“A bully?” Gio said. He was still pinning Dwight to the ground.
“Get
off
him!” Allie shouted.
Gio looked down, seeming almost surprised to find Dwight underneath him. He stood and extended a hand, helping Dwight up.
“Why don’t we take a break for a while,” Gio said to Dwight. He reached out his palm and slapped Dwight’s, which was the closest Gio would get to an apology, Tina knew. Her husband had a temper, and yes, he could be immature at times. But he was also deeply sensitive to criticism, and she knew Allie’s words had wounded him, especially since Allie was usually the peacemaker in the group.
Gio walked over to the cooler to grab a beer while Dwight pulled off his shirt and dove into the pool.
“Allie Cat, you’ve gotten feisty lately, haven’t you?” Savannah observed.
Allie sat back down. “I guess so,” she said. “It just bugged me, seeing that. Dwight’s being really nice by having us all here and it was just a stupid game and Gio was . . . well, he was acting like an idiot just then. Sorry, Tina.”
Tina smiled at her. “It’s okay. He does get a little worked up sometimes. I was about to say something, too.”
Dwight pulled himself out of the pool and sat on the edge, kicking his feet in the water. Tina looked back and forth from Allie to Dwight, but she didn’t say anything more.
“Are you guys up for karaoke later?” Savannah asked. “We’ve barely used Pauline’s machine.”
“Sure,” Tina said. “But don’t forget you invited a guest for tonight.”
“Have you heard back from him?” Allie asked.
Savannah shook her head. “Nope. Either he shows up, or he doesn’t. I’ll find out soon enough.”
“What if he begs you to take him back?” Allie asked. “Would you?”
“Hell no,” Savannah said.
“Good,” Tina said. “I think it would be impossible to trust him again.”
“So what’s your plan if he does show up?” Allie asked.
“I’ll hear what he has to say,” Savannah said. “Then I’ll smile and tell him to leave.”
“It’s kind of mean, making him come all this way just for that,” Tina said. “I love it.”
“He deserves it,” Savannah said. “I saw something on Facebook about a woman who took out a billboard in New York City to publicly chew out her cheating husband and let everyone know he wasn’t exactly well-endowed—
and
she put it on his credit card.”