As she stood,
the back of her thighs clung to the white wicker seat. Everything was hot and
sticky and the moisture filled air was heavy, making it hard to breath. She
ran her fingers down the deep depressions in her skin, cursing this breezeless
heat wave baking the coast. Maybe she’d take a swim to cool off.
As she walked
to the kitchen to fetch a refill of lemonade, she twisted her unruly hair into
a pony tail at the top of her head.
This is
useless, she thought, pulling at the refrigerator door. After all this time,
how could she doubt her relationship with Roger? Devin had been in town no
more than twenty-four hours and already she felt her life was in a tailspin.
But of course,
that's exactly what her mother wanted. She was sure Ruthie had engineered this
whole thing with Devin as a way to drive her and Roger apart. No, her mother
was not an ill-hearted woman. Quite the contrary. But her name was firmly
placed next to meddlesome and doting in the dictionary.
She only wished
her mother's obsessive need to throw her and Devin together would end, too.
After pouring a
fresh glass of lemonade, Cara placed the pitcher back in the refrigerator,
lingering a second or two longer to let the cool air from the fridge bathe her
hot skin. She noticed the light of the answering machine on the counter was
blinking as she shut the door. Absentmindedly she pushed the button and
listened to the response after the beep.
“Ruthie? It's
me, Penny Brunelle. I hope I've caught you before you ran out the door. I'm
going to be a little late for our appointment, but I can still meet you at my
shop. If you have a chance, check with Manny to see if he's free to perform
the ceremony. I've cleared it with Father Walker and he agreed it was a nice
idea to keep it all in the family. See you at ten.”
Cara drummed
the counter with her fingers as the beep indicating the end of the message
sounded. This was all too strange. Devin was back in Westport. Now Manny was
coming home to perform a ceremony? What ceremony? And why was her mother
meeting with a wedding consultant?
* * *
Devin stood in
the examining room of the animal hospital, patting his canine friend in an
attempt to keep him calm. He was glad the vet wasn't busy and was able to see
him on such short notice. They'd just taken x-rays and he was waiting for the
veterinarian to come and give him the results.
The door opened
and a salt and pepper-haired woman in a white lab coat walked into the small
examination room, holding an x-ray file in her hand. “Mr. Michaels, I'm Dr.
Schroeder.” She clipped the x-ray to the panel on the wall and switched the
light on.
“How bad is
he?” Devin asked, looking at the screen, not really sure what he was looking
for.
She exhaled.
“As we suspected with the initial examination, there was a break in his hind
leg and a slight fracture to his pelvis. This type of injury is typical with
being hit by a car.”
Devin cursed
under his breath with his gut reaction that someone just left the dog to die.
Then realizing the company he was in, he gave an apologetic look. “He may have
run away before anyone could help him.”
“Unfortunately,
that happens a lot. He’s actually very lucky. His injury isn't life threatening,
but does require some care. The bone is already starting to heal, but unless
it is set correctly, the dog won't walk properly.”
She flicked off
the light on the panel and stood by the table. Leaning over, she felt the
injured paw, much to the dog's protest. Her touch was nurturing.
“You mentioned
the dog is a stray.”
“I think so.
We found him on the beach.”
“From the
condition of his fur and his weight, I'd say you're right.” She reached out
and began stroking the dog’s fur. “He’s very lucky you found him. Being
dehydrated, he wouldn’t have lasted very much longer.”
“What will
happen to him now?”
She took a deep
breath and gave a little shrug. “That depends on you. Treatment can be
costly, and he is a stray. If you're willing to take on the responsibility, we
can reset his leg, clean him up a little and release him to you in a day or
two.” Her face was grim, as though she didn't expect him to agree.
Devin stroked
the dog behind the ears. “And if I don't take him?”
“Then it's our
responsibility to decide at that point.” She didn't elaborate beyond that, but
he got the vague feeling it meant the future for his new canine friend was
grim.
As much as he
hated to admit it, a few days ago he would've been more than willing to cut off
any emotional connection with the situation. That's what he'd come to.
He sighed, a
burning sensation squeezing his gut. That was the whole problem. Somewhere
lost in the depositions and court wins and the Manhattan skyline, he'd lost his
heart for simple kindness. He thought about the letter still burning a hole in
his briefcase from Wendall Palmer, a man accused of murder, swearing his
innocence, and reaching out for his help. Could he keep turning his back on
that, too?
“I guess I
should think of a name for you, huh, buddy?” he said, reaching down and
stroking the fur.
Dr. Schroeder
straightened her spine. Her smile was wide, as though she were surprised at
his decision and obviously happy with the outcome.
So was he.
* * *
“Who's getting
married?” Cara asked, wasting no time getting to the heart of the matter as her
mother walked through the kitchen door.
Ruthie cleared
her throat and placed the brown paper grocery bag she'd been holding on the
counter before answering. She made no eye contact. “Why do you ask, dear?”
Cara crossed
her arms across her chest and cocked her head to one side. “You're being
awfully secretive. Why didn't you tell me Manny was coming home?”
Ruthie perked
up. “Oh, did he call?”
“No, but Penny
Brunelle did. She wanted to let you know she'd be late for your meeting.”
“Oh.” Ruthie
pulled a double roll of paper towels and frozen orange juice out of the bag and
set them on the table.
Cara rounded
the table. “That's it? You're not going to elaborate any further?”
“No.”
“What's going
on, Ma?”
Ruthie waved
her hand, making a tsking sound. “So full of questions.”
“I wish you
were full of answers. Why were you meeting with Penny? And don’t tell me that
it’s because you wanted to invite her to my birthday party because I won’t buy
it. I haven’t seen her since High School.”
“You hadn’t
seen Devin Michaels since just after graduation and look how pleased you were
to see him.”
“Devin’s not a
wedding consultant. He's a lawyer. And I'm not talking about him. Now are
you going to tell me why you had a meeting with a wedding consultant this
morning?”
The screen door
slammed as Elsie waltzed into the room. From the look on her face, she was
none too pleased. Cara had to wonder if her little fishing expedition was cut
short by a little tiff with Albert.
“Who needs a
lawyer?” Elsie asked, still weighted down with her fishing gear.
“No one needs a
lawyer, Mother,” Ruthie said, taking the empty pail from Elsie. Guilt stabbed
at Cara when she saw the worried look on her mother’s face. If only she knew
the truth...
Elsie grunted.
“Good, they’re all shysters. Every last one of them.”
“Oh, I think
you’re being a bit harsh. Devin isn’t a shyster.”
“Who’s Devin?”
Elsie stripped off her fishing vest and dropped her pole by broom closet.
“You look a
little hot, Grandma,” Cara said, taking her by the elbow and leading her to a
chair. “Let me get you a glass of lemonade.”
“Thanks, Dear,
but unless there’s a little vodka in it, I’ll need something a little stronger.”
The lines on Ruthie’s face deepened. Apparently Elsie noticed and decided not
to push any buttons. “A glass of lemonade will be fine.”
Cara cracked a
few pieces of ice from the ice tray and plopped them into a glass before adding
lemonade. She handed it to Elsie and joined the two older women at the kitchen
table.
“You remember
Devin,” Ruthie said, her expression still drawn with worry. “He was the young
man who had dinner with us last night.”
“Oh, yes. What
a nice man.”
Ruthie's smile
was hopeful. “He’s a lawyer.”
Elsie grunted
again. “They’re all shysters.”
Albert must
be a lawyer.
She watched as
Ruthie wilted. Knowing the act her grandmother was putting on, she couldn’t
help but feel bad that her mother was being deceived this way. But she had
made a promise to her grandmother to keep quiet about her secret affair and she
was going to keep her word.
After a
lingering moment of silence, Elsie announced, “I’m going to go scrub this fishy
smell off my body. Where’s Harold?”
“The hardware
store,” Ruthie and Cara replied in unison.
“Well, when he
gets back, tell him I need him to fix my fishing pole. I had a little...mishap
with a shark.”
“Have a nice
bath, Grandma.”
Elsie trudged
down the hall toward the staircase. When she was out of earshot, Ruthie
whispered. “Do you see what I mean?”
Feigning
ignorance, Cara replied, “See what?”
Ruthie cocked
her head to one side and shot her a look. “Is this the kind of behavior you
would expect from a seventy-eight year old woman?”
Cara sucked in
her cheeks. “Sure.”
She stifled her
mother’s retort and got back to the real issue at hand. “Why did you have a
meeting with a wedding consultant this morning?”
She wasn’t
disappointed when Ruthie followed her lead.
Ruthie
shrugged. “It's nothing really, ah, your father and I have decided to renew
our wedding vows.”
Cara’s jaw hit
the floor and her heart melted at the thought of her parents standing at the
alter renewing their wedding vows after all their married years together.
“Really? That's so romantic! That's so...unlike Daddy.”
“I know,”
Ruthie said, almost in a grunt.
Cara chuckled.
“Wait a minute. Knowing how you work I'll bet he doesn't even know about this
yet.”
Ruthie picked
up a dishtowel and swung around, a devilish smile played on her face. “He
knows he’ll be paying for a wedding.”
Cara threw her
a suspicious look and proceeded to unload the remaining groceries from the last
bag.
“Oh, all right,
I told him it was for you.”
“Ma!”
“Before you go off
and get mad, let me explain.”
Cara sunk down
on a kitchen chair, her head still spinning from her mother's revelation.
Although this sort of thing shouldn't come as a surprise, she couldn't believe
her mother had planned a wedding for her.
Ruthie filled
the tea kettle and set it on the burner.
“If I'd told
your father that I was planning a ceremony for us, he wouldn't have agreed to
it. You know how much your father and I love each other, but let's face it,
he's not the sort of man who renews his wedding vows unless I held the wedding
at Fenway Park. Baseball is and always was his first priority in life.”
“That's not
true. Daddy would do anything for you.”
“Yes, he
would. As long as it wasn't during the Red Sox’s opening game. How many times
have I told you the story about how we had to wait to go to the hospital when I
was in labor with you because the Sox were playing the Yankees? Your father
would never miss that game.”
Okay, she was
with her mother so far. Romance was not anywhere on the list of her father's
priorities in life. Baseball, however, was sitting at the top.
“And he bought
that?” Cara asked skeptically.
“Of course he
did. I told him you were getting married and he was as thrilled as I was.”
“Wait, you've
never been happy about the prospect of me marrying Roger. Daddy actually
believed you were happy?”
Ruthie made an
innocent face. “He wants to see some grandchildren as much as I do.”
“So tell me,
how do you propose to tell Daddy this ceremony is really for the two of you?”
“Oh, don’t
worry about that. I'll take care of everything. Just don't breathe a word of
this to anyone until the ceremony.”
Cara actually laughed.
Her parents had such a strange relationship. For a minute she wondered if
they'd always been like this. But then she remembered the stories her mother
had told her about her career and giving it up when she was born. Had her
parents naturally grown into this strange relationship out of boredom? She
knew her parents loved each other, but she also knew that her mother was as
career driven in her youth as Cara had always been. She knew her mother had
given it all up for them.
On the other
hand, Cara had given up the notion of family for a career. Her relationship
with Roger had never threatened her goals because he was as driven as she'd
always been. They had an unspoken understanding that theirs was a
companionship that was comfortable, not meant to clash with the demands of
work.
But now her
goals were changing, like everything else around her. Manny had left home long
ago. Now her parents were leaving, too. And she wanted a family of her own,
more than just the occasional convenient coupling she had with Roger.
Cara’s heart
leaped to her throat when she heard a scream reverberated through the house.
She and Ruthie ran toward the staircase, hearing the scuffle of feet, the
sloshing of water and the slamming of the bathroom door.
“What
happened?” Ruthie called up.
Elsie stood at
the top of the staircase wearing a terry robe and a scowl on her face. Her
fists were firmly planted on her hips.