Mending Fences
Sherryl Woods

www.mirabooks.co.uk

Dear Friends,

I’m always being asked what sparks the ideas for my books, especially after more than one hundred of them. A glimpse into how Mending Fences came about will give you some indication of the process that my sometimes quirky mind goes through.

For many years now I’ve worked with the same accountant and during those years have also got to know his wife. Carl and Dianne Margenau are terrific folks, who’ve recently made a move from Miami to North Carolina, so much of our contact is now by phone. During one of those calls, Dianne mentioned how much they missed their long-time neighbours, how close the families had been over the years and what wonderful people they were.

So I began to think…What would happen between two families who’d shared so many important events, so many hopes and dreams and such a deep friendship, if something tragic occurred with the potential to split them apart? From that conversation, Mending Fences was born. Please keep in mind that beyond making me wonder ‘what if…’ there are no similarities between the Margenaus and their long-time neighbours and the characters in my book. Still, Dianne gets the credit for kicking my imagination into overdrive and Carl, as always, gets credit for keeping me out of financial hot water. I’m grateful to them both. I wish all of you neighbours you can count on and friends who enrich your lives.

As always,

Sherryl

Chapter 1

Present

Grady Rodriguez had been a police officer for nearly twenty years, but he’d never gotten used to interviewing young women who’d been the victims of date rape. It wasn’t quite the same as talking to those who’d been assaulted by strangers. For those women, there was little ambiguity about the attack. It was usually random, unexpected, violent and degrading. It could happen to any woman at any age who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Date rape tended to happen to young, often inexperienced women who knew their attacker. They were left with a million and one questions about what they might have done differently, how their judgment about the guy could have been so wrong, why saying no hadn’t been enough. He’d responded to too damn many of those calls, listened to too many brokenhearted sobs, seen too many injuries.

In either case, the women questioned everything about themselves. They dealt with unwarranted shame, sometimes made a thousand times worse by the well-meaning reactions of the people who loved them. In all instances, it changed who they were, made them more cautious, less trusting. Sometimes it destroyed relationships or even marriages.

From everything he could see as he and his partner, Naomi Lansing, walked into the off-campus Coral Gables apartment where tonight’s attack had happened, Lauren Brown was typical. A pretty college student with shiny, long blond hair, she barely looked old enough to date. A kid that young shouldn’t have had her innocence stripped away in a manner that left her eyes glazed with pain and disillusionment. Seeing her huddled in a corner of the bed in her room in tears, Grady wanted to punch his fist through a wall, but Naomi was cool and calm, the kind of soothing presence the situation required.

Naomi’s compassion allowed him to remain in the background, to study the scene in a coldly analytical way. They were the perfect team for this kind of investigation, something he’d never have predicted back when they’d first been assigned to work together and every encounter had been a test of wills.

“She was like that when I came in,” Lauren’s roommate, Jenny Ryan, told them in an undertone. “Just rocking back and forth and crying. She said her date had hurt her, but she wouldn’t say anything else. She asked me not to, but I called nine-one-one anyway. The creep shouldn’t get away with this. I don’t care who he is.”

Something in her words gave Grady a chill, the hint that Lauren’s attacker was well known, perhaps well-respected in the University of Miami campus community.

“You did the right thing,” Naomi assured her. “We’ll take it from here. Could you wait in the other room?”

For a moment, Jenny hesitated. “I’m not sure I should leave her.”

Naomi sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to crowd Lauren. “You’ll be okay, right?You’re up to talking to me?”

Lauren’s head bobbed once, but she didn’t look up.

As Naomi began murmuring the most intrusive questions in her quiet, matter-of-fact voice, Grady studied the bedroom. Painted and carpeted in the bland beige of inexpensive rentals, it was decorated in a style that was too shabby to be chic. There were mismatched pieces of furniture, a few snapshots—family pictures, it looked like—stuck into the dresser mirror, a laptop computer next to a stack of textbooks and an antique rocker he would bet had been a prized possession from home.

Other than the tangled spread and sheets on the bed and a few pieces of clothing that had been tossed on the floor, the room was neater than most coed rooms he’d seen. Carefully gathering the clothes she’d apparently been wearing, he noted the buttons missing from her blouse, the torn strap of her bra and a rip in her panties, all consistent with someone intent on having sex, perhaps with an unwilling partner. He found three buttons scattered around the carpet and added those to the evidence.

Leaving it to Naomi to retrieve the sheets and spread and whatever trace evidence they might contain, Grady walked into the living room to join the roommate. “Any idea who Lauren was out with tonight?” he asked her.

“Evan Carter,” she said without hesitation. “You know who he is, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of him,” he said, struggling to maintain a neutral expression.

Carter was a star football player at the University of Miami. Only a sophomore, there was already speculation about him becoming a top NFL draft choice before graduation. News reports, however, also cited his excellent grades, good enough for the career he hoped to have in the legal field representing professional athletes. He had brains, talent and charm—the kind of trifecta that made it easy for people to miss any hints of a darker side, the sense of entitlement and immunity that came with being a celebrity of sorts.

A local boy, Carter was already used to the spotlight by the time he entered UM. He’d been courted by both the Florida Gators and by Florida State Seminoles, top UM rivals. When he’d opted to stay close to home, there’d been a sigh of relief from the Miami fans, who’d followed his stellar high school career.

“Is that the crowd Lauren hangs out with—the jocks?” he asked Jenny.

“No way. To tell you the truth, Lauren’s never dated much. She’s basically pretty shy and quiet. She’s here on a scholarship, so she studies a lot. Evan’s the first guy she’s really talked much about. They’re in the same biology class—I’m in it, too—and they’ve been working on this project together for a couple of weeks now. When he suggested dinner and a movie, she couldn’t believe this superjock had asked her out. She was so excited.” Her lower lip quivered and her expressive dark eyes filled with anger. “Damn him for doing this to her!”

“Were you here when they left? Did you see them together?”

Jenny shook her head. “I had to go to the library to do some research for a paper that’s due on Monday. I didn’t get back till about two minutes before I called you.”

“So you can’t be sure they actually got together tonight,” he suggested.

Jenny practically quivered with indignation. “Are you trying to say she made it all up or something?” she demanded. “Lauren would never lie about who she had a date with or about what happened. Lauren doesn’t lie. Period.”

“Maybe a girl who doesn’t date much developed a crush on this unattainable guy, built herself a whole fantasy scenario,” he suggested.

“No, absolutely not!” Jenny said emphatically. “She’s the most honest, grounded person I know. Her dad’s a minister, for goodness’ sakes. She has this whole moral code she lives by. Most of the time the rest of us fall way short of meeting her standards, but she never judges any of us for that.”

Satisfied, Grady backed off on any suggestion that Lauren could have exaggerated anything that happened with the Carter kid. Instead, he focused on what Jenny herself knew firsthand. “But you yourself didn’t witness any part of the date, correct?”

She sighed. “No. I never saw them together, but I imagine there are plenty of witnesses in the building or on the block. It’s mostly college kids living in this area, so there’s always somebody going in or out, especially on a Friday night. And Evan’s the kind of guy who attracts attention. He makes sure of it.”

Grady knew the type. They thrived on being the center of attention, being recognized. They also thought they were above the law. Maybe tonight Grady would get lucky and that tendency would seal the case against Evan Carter.

“If Detective Lansing looks for me, tell her I’m going to knock on a few doors, see what I can find out from the neighbors,” he told Jenny. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. You’ll stay put, right?”

“Of course. I’m not leaving Lauren.”

The white stucco building on the fringe of the UM campus only had four units, two upstairs, two down. He tried the downstairs doors to no avail, then loped back upstairs and knocked on the door across the hall from Lauren’s. When it swung open, the sound of classic jazz flowed through the air. The long-haired kid wearing boxers, a T-shirt and flip-flops stared at him with blurry eyes and a bewildered expression.

“Is the music too loud or something?” he asked Grady. “I try to keep it low.”

“The music’s not a problem,” Grady assured him. He showed him his ID. “Mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”

“Am I in trouble?”

The kid sounded nervous, which made Grady wonder what he was up to. Then he caught a whiff of marijuana and knew. That, however, was a problem for another night.

“No, no trouble,” he assured him. “This is your apartment?”

“I have a roommate, but he’s out on a date.”

Grady made a note. “What’s your name?”

“Joe Haas.”

“And your roommate’s?”

“Dante Mitchell.”

“He plays football, doesn’t he?” Grady asked, trying to envision the huge defensive tackle sharing a place with this skinny, unassuming kid.

“We’re from the same hometown. His folks think I’m a good influence on him.” He shrugged, his grin self-deprecating. “As if he’d ever listen to me. Still, we get along okay.”

“Have you been home all night?”

“It’s Friday night,” he said as if that was answer enough. “I’ve been here just chilling out.”

“Seen anybody? Heard anything unusual?”

He stared at Grady with a blank expression. “Like what?”

“Anything that seemed out of the ordinary?”

“Did one of the apartments get robbed? Is that why you’re asking all these questions?”

“No. I’m just trying to get a feel for what was going on around here tonight.”

“I think everybody’s out, except me. Dante left around seven. Jenny headed out about the same time with a bunch of books. She always goes to the library on Friday night. She says it’s quieter then. The guys downstairs, they always head straight for happy hour after their last class on Friday. I don’t think they’ve come in yet. They’re usually pretty noisy, so I would have heard them if they’d come back.”

“What about Lauren? Have you seen her?”

He shook his head. “I know she had a date with some jock, a friend of Dante’s.”

“Did she tell you that?”

“No, Dante mentioned it. He thought it was pretty hilarious for some reason.”

“Why was that?”

“I guess because Lauren’s really shy and this guy thinks he’s some big hotshot.”

“You know a name?”

Joe shook his head. “I’m not that into football. Dante probably said, but it didn’t stick.”

“And you never saw Lauren with this guy?”

He shook his head, then frowned. “Lauren’s okay, isn’t she? Nothing happened to her tonight, did it?”

Grady ignored the questions. “Thanks. If you think of anything else, give me a call.” He handed him his business card.

Joe followed him back into the hall, his expression filled with concern. He bypassed Grady and headed straight for Lauren’s door. Grady intercepted him. “Not tonight.”

Alarm shadowed the boy’s eyes. “I just want to check on Lauren. She’s a sweet kid, you know?”

“Talk to her tomorrow, okay? She’ll need a friend then.” He leveled a look at the kid. “And you might want to lose the weed before I come around again. Next time I won’t look the other way.”

“Shit!” Joe said, his expression immediately guilt ridden. He all but ran back to his own apartment and shut the door.

Grady shook his head. For a fraction of an instant he was grateful he didn’t have teenagers, but then he thought of his beautiful little Megan and his heart ached. She would have been sixteen now and he would give every last breath in his body to have his daughter back, no matter what sort of foolish mistakes she might make.

Tonight wasn’t the night to travel down that dark path, though. Another young girl needed him.

Inside Lauren’s apartment, Jenny was exactly where he’d left her, blindly thumbing through a magazine, her attention directed toward the room where Naomi was still questioning Lauren.

“Did anybody see anything?” she asked when she realized he was back.

“The kid across the hall was the only one home, and he confirmed she was supposed to go out with some jock tonight, but he didn’t see him and didn’t have a name. He says his roommate had told him that.”

Jenny smiled. “Joe’s a little spacey most of the time, but he’s a good guy. It might not seem like it, but he’s practically a genius. He’s studying physics, but most of the time he’s bored, because he knows as much as the professors. He puts up with a lot from Dante, who thinks he’s God’s gift to the universe. Will it help that Dante knew about the date, too?”

“It might,” Grady conceded.

“What happens next?”

“We’ll need to get Lauren to the hospital, get her checked out,” he said. “Can you come along? It might make her feel better to have a familiar face around.”

“If she needs me, I’m there,” Jenny told him.

A few minutes later, Naomi emerged with Lauren and the four of them made the trip to the Rape Treatment Center at Jackson Memorial Hospital for the necessary indignity of a physical examination.

As they waited outside while a physician gathered evidence and offered counseling to Lauren with Jenny at her side, Grady sat beside Naomi and compared notes. “You think she’ll go through with this? Will she press charges against the Carter kid?” he asked. “It’s a tough road, especially with his high profile. The publicity could be pretty devastating, even if her name’s kept out of it.”

“She’s scared,” Naomi said. “But she’s starting to get angry. If she weakens, something tells me her roommate will make sure she fights back.”

He nodded. “Jenny’s mad enough for both of them. I wish all the girls we come across had someone in their corner like that.”

Naomi nodded. “Me, too.”

“We need to do this one by the book,” Grady said wearily. “I want an arrest warrant in hand before we go anywhere near that kid.”

“That could take time,” Naomi warned. “It’s almost morning now and half the judges are going to be on the golf course and the rest are probably out on their boats.”

“We’ll call the state attorney’s office and leave that problem up to them. I don’t care how long it takes, I want that warrant before we say boo to that kid. The media’s going to be all over this case and I’m not losing it because we didn’t cross every t and dot every i.”

Just then the weary-looking physician who handled for too many of these cases emerged from the treatment area.

“How’s it going, Doc?” Grady asked Amanda Benitez.

“I’m starting to have a very jaded outlook on life in general and men in particular,” Amanda said. “This guy roughed her up pretty good. He was smart about it, almost as if he knew how to go about it without leaving the kind of obvious visible marks that would call attention to what he’d done. Her stomach, her upper thighs have some nasty bruises, though. He was strong and he was mean.”

Grady read between the lines. “He’s done this before?”

“I’d say yes. You know the pattern as well as I do. It’s not just about the sex. This is a guy who gets off on hurting women, the more innocent and defenseless the better. You have a name?”

Grady nodded. “And when this goes public, the shit is going to hit the fan.”

It was well past midnight on Saturday and Marcie had just finished cleaning up the kitchen, putting every dish and glass back into place, polishing every piece of chrome and mopping the floor for the second time that day, when the doorbell rang.

Worried that it would wake Ken and the kids, she hurried into the living room to answer the door. Startled to see two uniformed officers and two other people in plain clothes outside at this hour of the night, she was tempted not to open the door, but weighed her caution against the possibility that they’d wind up waking her family by continuing to ring the bell. She finally opened the door a crack, the security chain still in place.

“Can I help you?”

“Pinecrest police, ma’am,” one of the uniformed officers said. “We have two detectives from Coral Gables who’d like to speak to your son. Since they’re out of their jurisdiction, we came along.”

“I don’t understand,” Marcie said.

“You’re Mrs. Carter?” the female detective asked. “Evan Carter’s mother?”

Marcie’s breath lodged in her throat. “Yes, why?”

“We need to speak to your son,” she repeated. “Is he here?”

“He’s asleep. What is this about?”

“I’m Detective Lansing,” the woman told her. “And this is Detective Rodriguez. We need to talk to Evan. Would you get him, please?”

Though it was phrased as a question, Marcie recognized a command when she heard one. She tried to think what Ken would do. He’d probably tell them to go away and come back at a civilized hour, but Marcie had been brought up to respect authority. Four very somber police officers from two jurisdictions were more than enough to intimidate her.

“You’ll have to give me a few minutes,” she said at last. “He’s a sound sleeper.”

“No problem. We’ll wait,” the woman told her.

Reluctantly Marcie let them inside, then started to climb the stairs. After only a couple of steps, she turned back. “Maybe I should…” she began, her tone apologetic. “Could I see some identification?” She’d read stories about fake police officers, even in uniform, and home-invasion robberies. Even though she recognized the Pinecrest logo on the uniform and saw the marked car in the driveway, it was smart to be absolutely sure.

Without comment all four of them held out badges and ID, removing any doubt that they were exactly who they’d said they were. She almost wished she hadn’t asked. Until that instant, she’d been able to hold out a slim hope that this was all some hoax or maybe a case of mistaken identity.

Evan was a good kid. He always had been. Oh, he had a mouth on him. He was like his father that way, but he’d never given them any trouble. He’d never so much as put a ding or dent in the car, never gotten into mischief the way some of the other boys in the neighborhood had. His dad had seen to that. Ken was a stern disciplinarian and both her kids showed him a healthy amount of respect.

Thinking about that made this whole scene feel surreal. Once again she hesitated. “Why do you need to see Evan at this hour? Is he in trouble?”

For the first time, Detective Rodriguez spoke. “Ma’am, could you just get him? We’ll explain everything then.”

Filled with a sense of dread, she climbed the stairs. At the top she debated waking Ken but decided against it. Who knew what he would do or say? He had a quick temper and a sharp tongue. He tended to act first and think later. He might wind up making a bad situation worse. If Evan needed him, there would be time enough to wake him then.

Inside Evan’s room, she found him sprawled facedown across his bed with a sheet barely covering him. Sometimes when she saw him like this, it caught her by surprise. In her heart, he was still her little boy, not a full-grown man with broad shoulders and muscles toned by hours of training at the gym. His cheeks were stubbled with a day’s growth of beard and his blond hair, usually so carefully groomed, stuck out every which way. Seeing him reminded her of the way Ken had looked when they’d first met, way too handsome for his own good.

“Evan,” she murmured, her hand on his shoulder. “Wake up! Evan!”

He only moaned and buried his head under the pillow, just as he had for years when she’d tried to wake him for school. Marcie knew the routine. She yanked the pillow away and then the sheet, averting her gaze from his naked body as she did so.

“Wake up!” she commanded, shaking him.

“Wha…? Go ’way.”

“Get up now,” she said urgently. “There’s someone here to see you.”

He blinked up at her. “What? Who?”

“They’re police officers, four of them. Two local and two from the Gables.”

“Shit, oh shit,” he muttered, raking his hand through his hair.

Something in the panicked expression that flitted across his face terrified Marcie. Had there been an accident? Had he left the scene? Or drugs? She knew there were kids at college who used them, but Evan had always been smart enough to steer clear. He’d wanted his football career too much to risk messing it up by experimenting with drugs or steroids. Ken had hammered that lesson home years ago.

“Do you know what this is about?” she asked. “Should I get your dad?”

“I’ll handle it,” he said, grabbing a pair of jeans and yanking them on, then snatching up a T-shirt from the end of the bed and pulling it over his head. “Don’t come downstairs, Mom, okay? I’ll take care of this.”

Marcie fought to stay calm. “I don’t like the sound of this, Evan. I think someone should be with you. Do I need to call a lawyer?”

“I said I’d handle it,” he snapped. “Go to bed.”

Marcie winced at his tone. She should have been used to it by now. Ken used that exact same tone when he spoke to her, but it was relatively new coming from Evan.

“You’re not going down there alone,” she insisted. “Now either I come with you or I get your father.”

“Whatever,” he said belligerently.

Marcie followed him downstairs. At the bottom of the steps, the two detectives stood in his path.

“Evan Carter?” Detective Rodriguez asked.

“Yes. What the hell is this about?” he demanded, his voice radiating antagonism.

Again, he sounded so much like his father, it gave Marcie goose bumps. Instinct kicked in. She was about to try to smooth things over with the detectives, but realized they were oblivious to his attitude and totally focused on their own mission.

“You’re under arrest for the rape of Lauren Brown,” the woman said quietly. “Anything you say can and will be used against you…”

Rape! Marcie was incredulous. This simply couldn’t be happening. As the detective read Evan his rights, Marcie fought back the bile rising in her throat and ran upstairs to wake her husband. She couldn’t shake the sound of the word rape. It kept echoing in her head.

“Ken, get up now! The police are arresting Evan. They say he raped somebody.”

She didn’t have to say it twice. Ken bolted out of bed with a curse and ran for the stairs, Marcie right on his heels. She heard Caitlyn’s door open and knew that her daughter had been wakened by the commotion as well.

“Mom, what’s going on? Why is there a police car outside?”

Marcie couldn’t bring herself to explain. “It’s all a terrible misunderstanding,” she said. “I’m sure that’s all it is. Your father will straighten everything out, but I need to go with him.”

“Go with him where?” Caitlyn asked, her eyes wide. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“To the police station. I’m going to call Emily and see if you can go over and spend the night at their house, okay? I don’t want you here alone.”

“Who’s been arrested? Is it Dad?”

“No, sweetie, it’s your brother, but like I said, it has to be a mistake.” Her hand shook as she picked up the phone and hit the number on the speed dial for Emily.

Her friend and neighbor answered on the first ring, instantly wide awake. “Marcie, is everything okay? I saw the flashing lights on a police car turning onto your street, but I never heard a siren. What’s going on?”

“I can’t explain now. Can Caitlyn stay with you?”

“Of course,” she said at once. “Send her over. Is there anything else I can do?”

“Pray,” Marcie said, her voice catching on a sob. “Pray that the police have made some horrible mistake. My boy…” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“They came for Evan?” Emily said, sounding as shocked as Marcie felt.

“Yes. Please, just watch out for Caitlyn. She’s on her way. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.”

“Go. Don’t worry about anything here. Just promise that you’ll call me if there’s anything else I can do.”

Marcie sighed as she hung up. She wondered if Emily would sound half as supportive once she found out what Evan had been accused of doing. There were some things even a best friend could never understand or forgive.

And if there was any truth, any truth at all to the charges, Marcie wasn’t entirely certain she’d ever understand it, either.

Chapter 2

Ten years earlier

Dinner was going to be another rushed affair. Emily Dobbs had spent two hours in a tedious, unproductive teachers’ meeting after school, then picked up her husband’s dry cleaning, run by the post office for stamps, stopped by the drugstore for her prescription for birth control pills—not that she’d needed them lately—and spent fifteen minutes at the market trying to figure out what she could fix for dinner in the twenty minutes she had left after she’d picked the kids up from the sitter’s. Spaghetti with salad and garlic bread had been the quick and easy answer. She supposed that was a step up from stopping for fast-food burgers or ordering pizza, something she’d resorted to way too many times recently.

Every week she vowed to come up with nightly menus and a shopping list, rather than improvising every meal at the last possible moment. So far, she’d failed to follow through, despite her good intentions.

Lately everything in her life felt as if she were doing it on the run. Maybe she should have waited to go back into teaching, but she’d missed being in the classroom after Josh and Dani were born. As soon as Dani had started in preschool, Emily had sought out and gotten a position teaching high school English just a few miles from home. Derek hadn’t been overjoyed when she’d told him, but he was traveling so much for business, he’d hardly been able to complain that she would be neglecting him or their marriage.

The kids, however, were another story. When it came to her son and daughter, she was assailed by guilt on a daily basis. They were growing so fast and she was missing some of it. Josh was a strong, athletic nine-year-old now with a well-developed mind of his own. Dani, with her long dark curls and her preference for dresses and tea parties, was a seven-year-old princess, ruler of the second grade.

As Emily stopped in front of Linda Wilson’s house, she watched her two precious children race outside and across the lawn. Well, Josh raced. Dani walked as sedately as if she were on a fashion runway, at least until her brother called back some taunting remark that had her sprinting the rest of the way.

“Hi, Mom,” Josh said, jumping into the front seat as Dani climbed more demurely into the back, then stuck out her tongue at her brother. Josh rolled his eyes, then directed his attention toward Emily. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“We’ve got new neighbors in back, and they’ve got kids. Mrs. Wilson told me that Evan’s the same age as me and he plays football and soccer and baseball. There’s a girl, too,” he added, as if that were of far less consequence.

“Her name’s Caitlyn,” Dani said, “but she’s just a baby.”

Josh rolled his eyes. “She’s five.”

“That’s too little to be my friend,” Dani said with a dramatic sigh of disappointment.

Emily bit back a smile. “Are you sure about that, sweetie? I bet she’d love to come to one of your tea parties,” she suggested. “You were five when we started having them, remember? Maybe she’s never even been to one and you could show her how much fun they are. In fact, since she’s just in kindergarten, there are probably lots of things you could teach her.”

Dani regarded her solemnly. “You think so?”

“You could ask,” Emily said.

Dani was silent for a long, considering moment, then nodded. “Maybe I will.”

And so it began…

The kids pestered Emily all day Saturday to let them go play with Evan and Caitlyn Carter. They both knew that there was one rigid rule in their house, that they were never to go to another child’s home unless she knew the parents, and she had yet to meet their new backdoor neighbors.

Exhausted from cleaning and grocery shopping and with a stack of English papers still to grade, she knew there would be no peace until she gave in.

“Okay, fine. Let’s take a walk and see if they’re home,” she agreed eventually.

The neighborhood in southeast Miami was shaded by pin oaks and giant banyan trees with their gnarled, twisted trunks that looked as if they belonged in a horror movie rather than in some pleasant, suburban neighborhood. Most of the well-landscaped yards were surrounded by hedges of bougainvillea in colors ranging from purple and fuchsia to red or white. The prickly vines with their profusion of brilliant flowers served as something of a security barrier without the need for fences or gates, though high wrought-iron gates had started to appear at the end of a few driveways as property values went up, along with the crime rate.

Only a few blocks from the waters of Biscayne Bay, Emily thought she could detect traces of salt in the air, along with the lingering scent of night-blooming jasmine. It was enough to remind her how much she enjoyed being outdoors at this time of year, when the Miami air had less humidity and the sky was a clear, vivid blue. She and Derek needed to get back into the habit of taking a walk after dinner the way they had when they’d first moved into their dream house. Back then, they’d pushed Dani in her stroller and Josh had ridden along beside them on his tricycle.

A few years ago, they’d also known all their neighbors in this well-established area, but as prices had soared, many of their older neighbors had sold out and moved to more manageable condos or retirement communities. Lately the turnover had been so frequent that there were only a few familiar faces left from those early years…the Wilsons down the block, the Delgados on the corner and Janice Ortiz and her elderly mother on the next street.

“Mom, hurry up!” Josh said impatiently. “Can’t you walk any faster?”

Emily grinned at him. “I can, but I’m enjoying the fresh air.”

He regarded her blankly. “Why?”

“Someday you’ll understand,” she said, ruffling his brown hair.

“It’s like stopping to smell the roses,” Dani said. “Grandma Dobbs tells Dad he needs to do that.” She wrinkled her forehead. “I’m not sure what she means, though.”

“She means your dad works too hard,” Emily told her.

“No joke,” Josh said with disgust. “He’s never around anymore to play ball with me.”

“He has an important job,” Emily reminded him, feeling the need to defend Derek, even though Josh was expressing a dissatisfaction that she often felt herself. Then, as a reminder to herself as much as to her son, she added, “We should be grateful that he’s such a hard worker. That’s why we’re able to live in such a great house and you kids get to go to wonderful schools.”

“I’d rather be able to play ball with my dad,” Josh grumbled. “Dad doesn’t even come to my games half the time anymore.”

Emily resolved to remind Derek that he needed to get some balance back into his life, that his son needed more from him than a fancy house and every hot electronic game to hit the market, all purchased out of guilt over his too-frequent absences and a string of last-second disappointments.

As they approached the sprawling, Spanish-style house with a red-tiled roof that the Carters had just moved into, she hunkered down on the sidewalk in front of the kids. “Now remember to be on your best behavior,” she instructed. “The way you are when we visit Grandma Dobbs and Grammy and Poppy, okay?”

Josh was practically bouncing with excitement. It had been a long time since there had been a boy his age living close enough for him to hang out with. “Come on,” he pleaded, then made a dash for the pretentious wrought-iron gate that was new to the property. He tried to turn the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. He regarded it with dismay. “It’s locked.”

Emily was as startled as her son, but she spotted a buzzer next to the gate. “I think we probably need to push that button,” she told her son, and watched as he gave it an eager punch.

“Yes?” The disembodied voice sounded far away.

“I’m Emily Dobbs, your new neighbor. My kids and I just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.”

A long buzz sounded and the gate swung open automatically. Josh stared at it, then grinned. “Cool!”

Dani wasn’t as enthusiastic. She eyed the gate warily and reached for Emily’s hand. “What if we can’t get out again?” she whispered.

“I’m sure it only keeps people out,” Emily reassured her. “It’s not meant to trap anyone inside.”

“Are you sure?” Dani asked.

“I’m sure, sweetie.”

By the time they’d walked along the curving driveway, two kids were racing in their direction. They skidded to a stop.

“Wow, this is so great,” the boy said. “I didn’t think there were any kids in the whole neighborhood. I was really bummed. I’m Evan. My sister’s Caitlyn.”

“I’m Josh,” her son told him. He added grudgingly, “That’s Dani.” Focusing his attention once again on the boy, he said, “I heard you like to play ball.”

“Any kind,” Evan confirmed. “You want to throw some passes out back? Football’s my favorite. I’m gonna go pro someday and play for the Dolphins.”

He said it with such absolute confidence that Emily had to fight to hide a smile.

Josh looked up at her. “Is it okay, Mom?”

“Sure,” Emily told him, then looked back to see that Dani was eyeing a dainty little girl in orange shorts, a purple T-shirt and tiny sneakers with dismay. The outfit, with grass stains and streaks of dirt, was a stark contrast to the pastel flowered dress and patent-leather shoes that Dani had chosen for the visit.

“How come you’re all dressed up?” the child asked Dani with a puzzled look. “You been to church?”

Dani regarded her with disdain. “I like to dress up. I like to read books and I like to have tea parties, too.”

“I play ball with my brother,” Caitlyn said. “But only ’cause there’s nobody else around.” Her wistful gaze shifted to follow the direction in which the boys had disappeared. Then she sighed. “My mom just baked cookies. You want some?”

Obviously the thought of home-baked cookies was enough to overcome Dani’s reservations about Caitlyn. “Sure.” Then she glanced hesitantly toward Emily. “You’re coming, too, right?”

“Absolutely,” she said, and followed the girls up the walkway.

When she spotted Marcie Carter waiting in the doorway, Emily couldn’t help smiling at the irony. In her fashionable linen slacks, silk blouse and expensive jewelry, she looked as if she ought to be Dani’s mom, not Caitlyn’s. Her makeup was flawless, every highlighted hair on her head was in place and her French manicure didn’t have a chip in it. Emily immediately felt as disheveled as little Caitlyn, but unlike the child she found herself apologizing.

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess, but the kids were so anxious to come by, I didn’t take time to change. I hope you weren’t getting ready to go out.”

“No, indeed. I’ve been baking cookies. Come in and have some. You’ll have to excuse the chaos, though. We’ve barely finished unpacking.”

Emily glanced around, looking for some evidence of chaos, but as near as she could tell this house was already a hundred times tidier than her own. There was a faint lingering scent of paint in the air, mingling with the far more appealing aromas of sugar and chocolate. The tile floor in the foyer had been replaced since she’d been here for a neighborhood cocktail party a couple of years ago. All of the carpets looked brand-new, as well. Every piece of furniture was in place, the pillows were plumped, fresh flowers filled huge, oversize vases in each room. If this was chaos, she wanted to know how to accomplish it.

“Do you mind sitting in the kitchen?” Marcie asked. “I’ll be able to keep an eye on the oven. I still have a few dozen cookies to bake for a PTA fund-raiser on Monday. The girls can take some cookies and milk onto the patio.”

“That sounds perfect,” Emily said, following her through the house. In the kitchen, she had to keep her mouth from dropping open. It looked like something out of a design magazine with its expensive cherry cabinets, black granite countertops and professional-grade stainless-steel appliances. Serious stuff must happen in this kitchen. It wasn’t meant for someone who threw a meal together at the last second, stuck frozen dinners into the microwave or baked cookies from refrigerated dough from the grocery store.

“How did you get roped into a bake sale when you’ve barely moved in?” she asked Marcie.

“I always volunteer at the kids’ school,” Marcie replied as she put chocolate-chip cookies onto a plate, poured milk into two tall plastic glasses and artfully arranged it all on a tray. “Here you go, girls. Do you need any help?”

“I can carry it,” Dani told her, reaching for the tray.

“I can take my own,” Caitlyn countered, almost tipping everything onto the floor in her eagerness to grab a glass of milk.

“Maybe I’d better get them settled,” Marcie said, taking the tray from Dani, carrying it outside, then returning. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my Caitlyn has an independent streak. She spends so much time with her older brother that she doesn’t know her own limits.” Her expression turned wistful. “I wish she was as much of a little lady as your Dani.”

“Something tells me they’ll balance each other,” Emily said. “I’m so glad Dani finally has someone close to her age nearby and Josh was over the moon when he found out you had a son his age.”

“How long have you lived in the neighborhood?” Marcie asked as she efficiently scooped up perfectly rounded balls of dough and put another huge sheet of cookies into the oversize oven.

“About seven years now. Josh was two when we bought the house and Dani was still a baby.”

“You like it here?”

“Love it,” Emily said. “And it’s a great school district.”

“I can tell that already,” Marcie said. “I made it a point to meet Josh and Caitlyn’s teachers before we made the final decision to move. I wish the class sizes were a little smaller, but unfortunately unless you send the kids to private schools, you won’t find that anywhere anymore. That’s one of the reasons I like to volunteer. I figure the teachers can always use some extra help.”

“I can vouch for that, though most of the parents at the high school where I work are too busy with their jobs to get involved,” Emily lamented. “I have to struggle just to get them to take time off to come in for parent-teacher meetings.”

Marcie seemed surprised. “You teach at the high school?”

“Yes. I teach English,” Emily confirmed. “I was teaching when I got married and I went back to it once both of my kids were in school. Do you work?”

“Ken—he’s my husband—and I think being a mom is a full-time job,” she said, a faintly defensive note in her voice.

Emily wasn’t about to quibble with her choice. “It’s great that you’re able to do that, if it’s what you enjoy,” she said sincerely. “I almost went stir-crazy during the years I was home with the kids. I need that added stimulation of working and I enjoy teaching. It’s hard, though. I have to admit there are days when I feel as if the kids aren’t getting nearly enough of my attention, especially with their dad out of town on business so much.”

“Your husband doesn’t object to you working?”

“To be honest, he wasn’t overjoyed when I went back to work, but mostly because he was afraid it would be a reflection on him. He thought maybe people would get the idea that he wasn’t a good enough provider. Derek had a tough childhood, so image is important to him. He’s a real workaholic.”

“Now that I get,” Marcie commiserated. “Ken’s just as bad. He’d work twenty-four hours a day if he didn’t require at least some sleep.”

She retrieved the baking sheet of cookies from the oven and slid another tray in. “There, that’s the last of them. Now maybe you and I can relax and you can tell me the scoop on everyone in the neighborhood. Any good dirt?”

Emily laughed. “I’m afraid there are no desperate housewives around here, though I think Adelia Crockett might have a crush on one of the deliverymen…or maybe she really is addicted to QVC and that’s why there are so many packages coming to her house all the time.”

“Adelia Crockett? I don’t think I’ve met her yet.”

“Three doors down from you. She drives a bright red convertible. She moved in about a year ago. I met her once at a neighborhood barbecue, but mostly she keeps to herself. She’s in her forties, I’d say. Doesn’t work, so either she divorced well or she has money of her own.”

“Is she going to show up on my doorstep needing help with a leaky faucet one of these nights?” Marcie asked wryly.

Emily grinned. “Last I heard, she was more likely to show up with a toolbox and offer to help with your leaky faucet. She seems pretty self-sufficient, but like I said, I don’t know her that well.”

“Any other gossip? Is there a neighborhood borrower who never brings anything back? Someone who throws outrageously noisy parties? A complainer who calls the cops about everything?”

Emily stared at her. “Where on earth have you been living?”

Marcie chuckled. “Actually it was fine and the neighbors were all really nice, but you never know what you’re getting into when you move. The real estate brokers might warn you about an anticipated bump in real estate taxes, but they won’t say a word about the neighbors who cause everyone grief.”

“Well, rest assured, everyone around here is pretty quiet and friendly. You’re going to like it, unless you were hoping for a little excitement. About the wildest thing that happens is Eddie Delgado doing karaoke at the summer barbecue. The man has the voice of a frog with laryngitis.”

For an instant Marcie looked taken aback, but then she put a hand over her mouth and giggled. “I’m sorry. I met Eddie the other day. I can’t even imagine…” Her voice trailed off and she giggled again. “I like you, Emily Dobbs. I think we’re going to be good friends.”

“Even though I don’t even know what half the appliances in this kitchen are for?” Emily said, surveying the array of intimidating stainless steel. It appeared Marcie owned every cooking aid showcased in the Williams-Sonoma catalog.

Marcie patted her hand. “I know, and that’s all that matters. You make sure our kids get out of school with a basic knowledge of grammar and literature and I’ll make sure we’re all well fed.”

“Now there’s a plan I can get behind, but let me be the one to welcome you with a barbecue. I’ll invite all of the neighbors over next Saturday. Derek has figured out how to use the mammoth grill he insisted we needed and I’m capable of making a salad and a few side dishes.”

“Only if you let me bring dessert,” Marcie said. “There’s a chocolate cake with fresh raspberries I’ve been dying to try. If I make two, will that be enough?”

“That depends on whether one of those is meant just for me,” Emily told her, not entirely in jest.

Marcie grinned. “I’ll bake three. We’ll share the third one over coffee when we get together afterward to dissect the party.”

“Let me retrieve my kids and I’ll get out of your hair,” Emily told her.

“Oh, let them stay, please,” Marcie said. “I’ll walk them home later, say around four.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Grateful to have a reprieve so she could grade papers in total silence, she seized the offer. “If they give you any trouble at all, just call me or bring them home.” She jotted down her phone number and address for Marcie, who immediately stuck the paper onto a bulletin board by her phone.

“They’ll be fine,” Marcie assured her.

“Then I’ll say a quick goodbye and remind them to be on their best behavior.” When she returned from speaking to Dani and Josh, she impulsively gave Marcie a hug. “I’ll have peace and quiet to grade papers. I can get it done in half the time it usually takes. You have no idea what a miracle that is! I’ll call you with the details about next Saturday.”

“Don’t be a stranger, okay? Promise me.”

“You bake. You offer to watch my kids,” Emily said. “Are you kidding? I’m ready to adopt you.”

The Saturday-night barbecue to introduce the Carters to their neighbors was the first of many occasions the two families shared during that winter and spring. For the first time in her marriage, Marcie actually felt as if she were a part of the community around her. She liked knowing everyone on her block and the next, being able to exchange greetings with people and ask about their families and jobs, rather than living in isolation the way they had in their old neighborhood.

She’d never told anyone, not even Emily who would surely understand, about the early financial struggles she and Ken had had in their marriage. She felt as if it would be a betrayal of her husband. Ken had worked hard to rise above their past. They’d scraped by and saved until they could afford an impressive house in a well-to-do area, but even before they’d moved, he’d insisted they strive for a certain image. Sometimes he worried more about the image than the substance of their lives, but Marcie understood. She knew he wanted only the best for her and their kids. He was single-minded about it. If he was impatient with her when she tried to get him to slow down or questioned his priorities, well, he’d earned the right to have things his way. She’d long since reconciled herself to that.

Oddly, though she and Emily had become extremely close, Derek and Ken didn’t get along all that well. She didn’t understand it. Derek was a great guy. He was warm and funny, the kind of dad who showed a real interest in all of the kids and actually listened when they spoke to him. He and Ken should have had a thousand things in common, but there was a wariness between them that sometimes cast a pall over their get-togethers. If they’d been a couple of kids, she would have described it as some kind of rivalry, but they were both mature adults.

Still, it was plain that Ken was always trying too hard to impress Derek and Derek knew it. It was happening again tonight as they ate by the pool at her house.

“You should have seen it,” Ken boasted. “I had those guys eating out of the palm of my hand. The best wine. Steaks so tender you could cut ’em with a butter knife. Then Marcie here has to go and ruin it all by bringing in these little cups of pudding.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what she was thinking.”

“It was chocolate mousse with shaved white chocolate on top, not pudding,” she said defensively. “And in case you didn’t notice, they ate every bite and asked for seconds, so I’d have to say it was a hit.”

“They ate it to be polite,” Ken scoffed.

“I’m sure it was delicious,” Emily said loyally. “Marcie knows more about entertaining than most people will ever know.”

“Thank you,” Marcie said, feeling her cheeks flushing at the praise. Or maybe it was from embarrassment that her husband was demeaning her in front of their friends.

“I don’t suppose you have any of that mousse left,” Derek asked wistfully. “It’s one of my favorites. Needless to say, Emily never makes it.”

“Yes, needless to say,” Emily said, shooting him a grateful look. “I did make instant pudding a couple of weeks ago.”

Ken frowned at both of them and their attempt to elevate Marcie’s efforts.

“I still think some fancy soufflé would have impressed them more,” Ken grumbled, then brightened. “The bottom line, though, is that the next day they signed on the dotted line. Biggest account I’ve reeled in yet. I’m telling you that vice presidency is mine.”

“You’ve worked hard enough for it,” Marcie said, relieved that he’d dropped the topic of her cooking. “You certainly deserve it.”

“Damn straight,” Ken said. He looked at Derek, and for an instant there was none of the usual bluster in his voice, when he said, “Maybe you can give me some pointers on how to handle the boss to make sure I get the job. You’ve been a vice president at Jankovich and Davis for a while now, right?”

“A couple of years,” Derek said. “Only thing I can tell you is to work hard and do your job. Go above and beyond whenever the opportunity presents itself. In the end that’s the kind of thing that gets their attention.”

Ken looked flustered. “You didn’t spend a lot of time schmoozing with ’em, telling ’em you were the right guy for the job?”

“Not really,” Derek said, then added diplomatically, “but they’re two different companies, Ken. I’m dealing with international sales. You’re dealing with public relations. You know how things work with the people in charge where you are. You have to use the tactics that work under those conditions.”

Ken nodded. “Flash and dazzle, that’s what works with my boss,” he said confidently. “In PR, it’s all about the sizzle, you know what I mean?”

Derek grinned. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Marcie sat back and relaxed for the first time since the discussion had started. For once it seemed the two men were on the same wavelength. With any luck that would last through dessert.

And tonight she’d been smart enough to bake Ken’s favorite cake with caramel frosting. It had taken forever to get the caramel just right, but it would be worth it if he ended the evening with a smile on his face.

Sometimes it seemed she spent as many hours of her day trying to please her husband as Ken spent trying to win the praise of his bosses. In that regard, they both had tough jobs.

There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d ever admit it, but sometimes she envied Emily, whose identity clearly wasn’t all tied up in gaining her husband’s approval. There’d been a time when Marcie had actually known exactly who she was—a pretty girl from a modest background who was smart, but far from brilliant, and more interested in cooking and baking than the corporate world. She’d also known what she’d wanted out of life. She wanted to marry an ambitious man with potential, have a family and enough money to buy not only the things they needed, but the things they wanted. She’d thought she’d won the lottery when she married Ken, but lately she wondered if she hadn’t given up more than she’d gotten.

She glanced over at Ken and wondered what had happened to the handsome guy who’d pursued her with the same single-minded determination he now used to chase down new accounts at work. He was still good-looking, still driven, but increasingly it seemed he was taking her for granted. Maybe that’s what happened after ten years of marriage, but sometimes she longed for the days when he couldn’t keep his hands off her, when he used his charm on her, not on everyone except her.

She sighed and focused her attention on the conversation, which had returned to football as Derek and Ken debated the Dolphins’ chances for making the Super Bowl and lamented bygone days under Coach Don Shula. She glanced across the table and saw that Emily was just as bored as she was.

“Time for dessert?” she inquired brightly. “It’s chocolate cake with caramel frosting.”

“From some can?” Ken asked in a scathing tone.

She gave him a chiding look. “Have you ever known me not to make it from scratch?”

His expression brightened. “Okay, then. I’ll take a piece. A big one.”

“Me, too,” Derek said just as eagerly. “Nobody bakes the way you do, Marcie.”

“Certainly not in our house,” Emily agreed unapologetically.

Marcie marveled at the exchange. Derek’s tone hadn’t held even a hint of implied criticism of his wife and Emily’s response had been just as easygoing. Why couldn’t Ken speak to her or about her the same way? And why couldn’t she make herself speak up if his attitude bothered her so much?

Knowing she wouldn’t find an answer to that tonight, she pushed the topic aside and went inside with Emily to cut the cake. At least she’d gotten that right.

Chapter 3

“Mom, can Caitlyn spend the night?” Dani asked Emily on Friday. “Please. It’s not a school night and her mom says it’s okay with her if it’s okay with you.”

Emily thought of her plans to try to bring some order to the chaos around the house. She’d even had some crazy idea about enlisting the kids to clean up their own messes before their dad came home tomorrow after two weeks on the road for business. She gazed at Dani’s hopeful expression and sighed.

“Sure, why not?” she said. “We’ll order pizza.”

“And we can watch videos and have popcorn?” Dani asked.

“I assume that means a trip to choose the movies,” she said, resigned to going back out on the hot, humid evening. Late September was just as bad as July when it came to the Miami weather.

Dani grinned. “Uh-huh. She gets to pick one and I get to pick the other one. That’s what we decided.”

Emily shook her head. Dani always had a plan and it was always fair. “Fine. We’ll go as soon as Caitlyn gets here.”

Dani threw her arms around Emily’s waist. “Thanks. You’re the best! I’ll call her now.”

Emily watched her daughter race up the stairs. She was nine now and she’d overcome all her reservations about being friends with a girl two years younger. She and Caitlyn were as close as sisters. That they chose to spend most of their time here, rather than in the Carters’ far more organized household still bemused Emily, but she had to admit that most of the time she enjoyed having all the kids underfoot. Caitlyn and Evan were both polite and well behaved. They set a good example for her own kids.

She glanced out the back door and saw Josh and Evan horsing around in the pool. Sliding open the back door, she called to her son, who trotted over.

“Caitlyn’s spending the night with Dani. Do you want to ask Evan to stay, too?”

“Awesome,” Josh said at once. “Hey, Evan, Caitlyn’s staying over and Mom says you can stay, too, if you want to.”

“Count me in,” Evan called back.

“Ask your mom,” Emily reminded him. “As soon as Caitlyn gets here we’re going out to get videos to watch. You guys can come, too, and pick your own.”

“Thanks, Mrs. D,” Evan said. “I’ll be right back.”

Already tall for his age, Evan pushed himself out of the pool with an athletic grace that Josh didn’t possess. Much as her son enjoyed sports, he didn’t have the raw talent that Evan had. Thankfully, though, the two boys weren’t especially competitive. Josh just enjoyed playing the game, whatever it was on any given day, and was happy enough to see his friend excel at it. Josh seemed to have inherited her laid-back personality, rather than his dad’s competitive, ambitious one.

As she stepped back inside, Emily heard the phone ringing. Before she could reach it, Dani apparently grabbed it upstairs, then shouted, “Mom, it’s for you! It’s Mrs. Carter.”

Emily picked up the portable phone and sat at the kitchen table. “Hey, Marcie. How are you?”

“Fine, but wondering why on earth you’d let yourself in for having Evan and Caitlyn over after working all week. You must be exhausted and sick to death of kids.”

“I don’t mind. And your kids are never any trouble.”

“You’re sure you weren’t trapped into going along with this? I know how persuasive Dani can be when she’s on a mission.”

“Absolutely not. What are you and Ken up to this evening?”

“Ken has a business dinner, so I’m on my own.”

“Then come on over with Evan and Caitlyn. You and I can watch our own movies and drink some wine.”

“Really? You’re not too tired?”

“To watch a chick flick that Derek would rather eat worms than see?” Emily asked. “Never.” Besides, she’d heard the note of loneliness in Marcie’s voice and recognized it all too well. She’d learned to cope with Derek’s absences, but Marcie was completely at sea when Ken was out of the house. She’d tried to talk to her once about finding some interests aside from Ken and the kids, but Marcie always claimed she was perfectly content and had more than enough to keep herself occupied.

“Where is Derek, by the way? Won’t he object to all the commotion?”

“He’s still in Brazil. He won’t be home till late tomorrow.”

“Great!” Marcie said. “Gosh, that sounded awful. I know you miss him. I meant it was great that we can have an evening to ourselves. I’ll bring the chocolate. I baked brownies today. A lot of brownies. I was bored.”

“Good luck for me,” Emily said with enthusiasm, though the further evidence of Marcie’s discontent struck her once more. “See you soon. You can come with us to the video store to pick out the movies.”

By the time she’d hung up, Emily already felt rejuvenated. Movies, wine and chocolate with a friend and her kids and their friends upstairs. What could be better than that? It would certainly be a huge improvement over the lonely evening she’d been anticipating, one in a long string of lonely evenings that had become the norm as Derek’s job kept him away for longer and longer periods of time. She might have adjusted to the stretches of being on her own with the kids, but that didn’t mean she liked it. And unlike Marcie, she knew that sooner or later she was going to have to do something about fixing it.

“What on earth are you doing?” Emily demanded a few weeks later when she found Josh in the backyard with a pair of hedge clippers attacking the bougainvillea that separated their yard from the Carters.

“Evan and me need a path,” he explained.

“Evan and I,” she corrected automatically.

He looked up at her, his expression blank. “Huh?”

Emily sighed. It was a wonder she kept her job, when she couldn’t even get her own kids to speak proper English. “Why do you and Evan need a path? You can walk around the block.”

“It’s too far. We’ve been trying to crawl through the hedge, but this stuff has thorns.”

“So you decided to chop it down without asking permission?”

“Dad said it was okay,” he replied, snipping away more of the thick hedge with its brilliant fuchsia flowers that thrived in the South Florida heat and humidity.

She doubted Derek had any idea what he’d agreed to. He’d probably been on the computer or absorbed in paperwork, which was how he spent the few days he was at home anymore. Whatever he’d said to Josh was more conversation than she and her husband had had lately. She was growing tired of feeling like a single parent most of the time, only to have her authority usurped the moment Derek made a rare appearance at home. It was something they needed to discuss, but she couldn’t even figure out how to manage that when he rarely came to bed before midnight and fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. They hadn’t had a night out on their own for months now. If he’d been a different kind of man she’d have wondered if he was having an affair, but she knew his work was his only mistress. Accepting that didn’t seem to stop the increasing resentment she was feeling.

She took one more look at the gaping hole in the hedge and shook her head. On the bright side, it would take her less time to wander over to sit in Marcie’s pristine kitchen with a cup of her special-blend coffee and a slice of her homemade key lime pie. Lately that had become her refuge from the emptiness she felt every day when she got home from school and faced one more night on her own.

On her bad days, she envied Marcie. She was everything Emily was not. She thrived on being a housewife, a roommother in her kids’ classrooms, an officer in the PTA. Her spotless house could have been a designer showcase. There wasn’t a speck of dust that Emily had ever seen, much less a magazine out of place, a dirty glass in the sink or smelly socks or sneakers tossed on the floor. By comparison, the best that could be said of Emily’s home was that it looked lived in. The last time she’d baked, she’d burned the chocolate-chip cookies. Dirty clothes overflowed the baskets in the laundry room and dishes were left wherever anyone set them down until Emily rounded them up.

Back inside, she headed for Derek’s office and found him punching numbers into a calculator. When she spoke, his head snapped up and he muttered a curse at the interruption.

“Sorry,” she said. “I thought maybe we could talk.”

“I’m in the middle of something.”

“You’re always in the middle of something. Do I need to make an appointment to get on your calendar?” She couldn’t seem to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

It hadn’t always been like this. When she and Derek had met in college, she’d admired his drive and ambition. They’d spent long hours talking about his goal of owning his own company someday, not just some little mom-and-pop business, but a corporation. Her parents had been impressed with his single-minded determination, as well.

“He’ll go places,” her father had told her when she’d announced their engagement. “He’ll be a good provider.”

And he had been. He was vice president of sales at a multinational corporation based in Coral Gables. Their home off Old Cutler Road was in a neighborhood known for its lush landscaping, architectural diversity, upper-income families and good schools. She and their kids wanted for nothing.

If she longed for the kind of conversations they used to have or for the passion they’d once shared, maybe she was expecting too much. Maybe this was the way things were supposed to be after twelve years of marriage.

Then she thought of the affection still evident in her parents’ marriage after more than thirty years and knew she was wrong. She and Derek were missing the best years of their lives. They were occasional roommates, not partners.

“Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” she suggested impulsively, draping her arms around his neck from behind and leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. He smelled faintly of his favorite musky aftershave. “Just you and me. I’ll see if the kids can stay with the Carters.”

“I’m beat,” he said, linking his fingers through hers. “I don’t feel like going out. Invite the Carters over for a barbecue instead. We’ll throw some steaks or some salmon on the grill, hot dogs for the kids. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Emily barely managed to contain a sigh. It wasn’t the evening she had had in mind, but it was a concession, especially since she knew Derek wasn’t all that crazy about Ken Carter. Truthfully, she wasn’t either. She didn’t like the way he put down his wife at every turn, mocking her devotion to him and the kids and their home, a devotion he himself demanded. She and Derek had discussed their mutual dislike of the man, but agreed to put it aside in the interest of neighborly harmony. Still, more and more they were keeping the contact to a minimum. She had her friendship with Marcie and the kids had their bonds, but recently the families maintained a more careful distance.

Sometimes she worried that Marcie was aware of how she and Derek felt, but it was the one subject they’d never discussed. She figured if Marcie had found some way to tolerate her husband’s demeaning behavior then it wasn’t Emily’s place to criticize him, any more than it was her place to question Marcie’s decision to build her entire life around her family, rather than building a separate identity of her own.

“If you’re so tired, are you sure you’re up to dealing with Ken tonight?” she asked Derek point-blank. He usually had little patience with him when he was in a great mood.

“I’ll just let him talk and tune him out,” Derek said. “Ken gives speeches. He doesn’t have conversations. That pretty much takes the pressure off me.”

She grinned at him. “Sometimes I wonder how Marcie can stand the man, but she seems blind to his faults.”

“Or maybe she’s learned to tune him out, too,” Derek suggested, a twinkle in his eye.

Emily chuckled. “You are so bad.”

“But you love me, anyway, right?” he said, turning to meet her gaze.

“Yeah, I do,” she said. Lost in the depths of his eyes, for a moment she remembered all the reasons why…his wicked sense of humor, the way he could make her feel with just a glance, the solidity of his devotion. “I really do. That’s why I wanted to spend the evening out with you.”

“Another time, I promise. When I get back from this next trip, things should slow down.”

She accepted the promise, because she had no choice. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Go call the Carters, then, but tell them we’ll need to make it an early evening, okay?”

“Sure,” she agreed, feigning enthusiasm. “I’ll see if they can come at six. Do you want time for a shower or should I just let you know when they get here?”

“I’ll run up in a little while and grab a shower and be down in time to start the grill,” he promised. “Then you can sit back and relax.”

Emily thought of the trip to the market she needed to make to pull off this impromptu gathering, the preparations required to stock the patio bar and have everything ready for the grill. She wasn’t Marcie, who could entertain at the drop of a hat. In her case, relaxation didn’t enter into it.

At least, though, she could look forward to some adult conversation, even if it wouldn’t necessarily be with her husband.

Marcie was on edge, though she couldn’t have said why. She was as comfortable at Emily’s as she was in her own house. Tonight, though, there was some kind of tension in the air that seemed worse than usual. Ken was trying too hard, as always, and Derek seemed to have less patience with him than ever. She’d even caught Emily rolling her eyes once behind Ken’s back. She’d almost called her on it, but she hadn’t wanted to start a discussion that might cause a real rift in their friendship.

There were times when she felt almost as competitive with Emily as Ken obviously did with Derek, and she felt petty for feeling that way. Despite everything Marcie did to create the perfect home, it was evident that her own kids preferred being over here. They didn’t seem to notice the clutter or care that the meals were more often takeout than homemade.

Right now they were all in the pool, shrieking at the top of their lungs as they played some silly game they’d devised, mainly to torture the girls as near as she could tell. Ken had told them to pipe down twice now, but Derek and Emily seemed oblivious to the noise. She figured the shouts would last another two minutes before Ken blew a gasket and ordered Evan and Caitlyn out of the water and spoiled things for everyone.

In an attempt to avert a scene, she stood up and walked over to the pool. “Evan, Caitlyn, you heard your father,” she said quietly. “Settle down.”

“We’re just having fun, Mom,” Caitlyn said, wiping her wet hair out of her face and looking up.

“You can have fun quietly,” Marcie said.

Evan scowled up at her. “Who put you in charge?” he asked belligerently. “We’re in Mr. and Mrs. D’s pool.”

Behind her, Marcie heard a chair scrape back. She froze, terrified that Ken was about to cause exactly the kind of commotion she’d been hoping to avoid. Instead, though, it was Emily who came up and slipped an arm through hers.

“Evan, that’s no way to speak to your mother,” Emily scolded gently. “And the decibel level is getting pretty loud. Maybe you guys should take a break and go inside for a while. We picked up a bunch of movies earlier today. Josh, why don’t you make some popcorn?”

“Sure, Mom,” he said with easygoing acceptance. He immediately climbed out of the pool and wrapped himself in a towel. “Come on, Evan, I got that action movie we missed.”

Evan gave Marcie one last scowl, but he followed Josh inside.

“Thanks,” Marcie said, when the kids were gone. “I don’t know why he listens to you but ignores everything I say.”

“Most kids would rather obey any other adult than their own parents,” Emily said. “I see it at school all the time. They’ll be sullen and unresponsive with their mom or dad, then turn right around and be sunny and polite to me.”

Marcie hesitated, then asked, “Evan’s never sassed you, has he?”

“Never,” Emily said.

“If he ever does, I want you to send him straight home. Don’t tolerate it, okay?”

“I will, but it’s never been a problem. I swear it. You’re a good mom, Marcie. Don’t ever question that. And both your kids are terrific.”

Marcie forced a grin. “Do you think if kids are this much trouble now, we’ll survive their teenage years?”

“Of course, we will. We’ll still be bigger and stronger—for a while anyway—and we’ll gang up on ’em,” Emily assured her. “Come on. Let’s go inside and put together that strawberry shortcake you brought over. My mouth’s been watering since you got here. I love strawberry season, don’t you?”

Marcie finally relaxed. “I drove down to the fields to get these. They were huge and sweet as candy.” She leaned in and confided, “I had a fresh strawberry shake while I was there.”

Emily laughed. “If you’re going to make that drive then you have to have a shake. It’s a rule. Maybe we can take the kids down to the Everglades next weekend and go for a hike on one of the trails. We can stop for a shake on the way back.”

“A hike?” Marcie asked warily. “Won’t there be bugs?”

“Not this time of year. Just alligators,” Emily teased, trying and failing to hide a grin.

“Is that supposed to reassure me?”

“Come on,” Emily said. “The boys will love it.”

“And the rest of us?” Marcie asked, still skeptical.

“Will survive by thinking about the strawberry shake we’ll have afterward.”

“Aren’t men supposed to take their sons on outings like that?” Marcie asked.

Emily merely stared at her. “Derek and Ken? You have to be kidding.”

Marcie gave in to the urge to laugh. “You have a point, though I’d pay big money to see it.”

“Me, too,” Emily agreed, handing her two dishes piled high with shortcake topped with huge strawberries and a mound of whipped cream, then picking up a tray with the other bowls herself. “Let’s go sweeten them up with dessert. Who knows what we’ll be able to talk them into after that.”

Paula, Emily’s favorite coworker at school, had just undergone breast cancer surgery and it had all of the female teachers jittery. There was a sudden interest in breast self-exams and a flurry of appointments being made for mammograms.

Shaken more than she liked admitting, Emily came home from visiting Paula at the hospital and headed straight for Marcie’s, where the coffee was waiting, along with a sympathetic ear.

“How is she?” Marcie asked.

“Scared to death,” Emily told her. “The surgery’s almost the least of it. They want to do both radiation and chemo. She’s looking at a long, tough road with unpredictable results.”

They both fell silent.

“Did you call and make an appointment for a mammogram?” Emily asked eventually.

“First thing this morning,” Marcie told her. “My appointment’s for next week. You?”

“I’m scheduled to go in next week, too. I thought we were too young to be worrying about this. We’re only thirty-two, for crying out loud. I thought we had years before we had to start getting tested, but Paula’s only thirty-three. If she hadn’t found that lump, she’d never have known. She teaches the health and PE classes at school, so she’s the one woman who’s on top of these things.” She frowned. “I just hope to God it wasn’t too late.”

“Don’t even think like that,” Marcie admonished. “She’s going to be fine. She’s tough.”

Emily nodded. “And her husband’s been a real rock so far. Dave’s been by her side every step of the way, bless him, and I don’t see that changing.”

“I knew I liked him when you had them over for dinner last year during the holidays,” Marcie said. “And I’ve enjoyed getting together with Paula at your house to talk about books. She and I have the same taste and she always knows when the good books are being released and gives me a heads-up. I’m so glad you introduced us.”

“Maybe you could return the favor while she’s recuperating, take her a few books from time to time. She turns her nose up when I try to get her to read the classics.”

“Probably because she had to read them all in school. Now a good mystery, that’s always fresh.”

“Murder and mayhem, you mean,” Emily said. “I’ve seen your to-be-read pile. I don’t know how you sleep at night after you read that stuff.”

“Oh, for goodness’ sakes, I’m not reading thrillers about serial killers,” Marcie retorted. “They’re cozy mysteries with amateur sleuths. Hardly a drop of blood anywhere. It’s all about solving the crime.”

“Whatever,” Emily said, grinning at the defensive note in her voice. “I love teasing you about your reading material.”

“Really? Don’t think I don’t know about the stash of romance novels you have hidden under your stacks of Charles Dickens and Jane Austen,” Marcie countered.

Emily flushed. “How do you know about those?”

“Caitlyn, of course. She and Dani have been sneaking them to read.”

“I swear, I am going to kill my daughter,” Emily grumbled. “As my child, she’s supposed to be reading great literature.”

“She’s ten,” Marcie noted, her lips twitching.

“Well, there are plenty of great children’s books for that age.”

“Obviously her taste is as varied as her mom’s. Just be grateful she’s reading at all.”

“I should be, shouldn’t I?” Emily said, then sighed, her thoughts returning to their sick friend. “Can you think of anything else we should be doing for Paula?”

“Besides being there for her?” Marcie said. “I imagine that’s what she needs most—friends who will stick by her, take her to appointments, whatever. If you see her again before I do, tell her I’ll do that, by the way. I’m free most days. I can take her anywhere she needs to go.”

“She’ll appreciate that, I know. Now I’d better get home and think about getting dinner on the table.”

“I knew you’d be running late today, so I made an extra lasagna, if you want it.”

“Have I mentioned lately what an angel you are? What would I do without you?”

“Starve?” Marcie inquired wryly.

Emily grinned. “Not as long as half the restaurants in the neighborhood deliver, but you do give my children an opportunity to experience a home-cooked meal from time to time. For that, I am eternally grateful.”

Marcie chuckled. “So are they. Dani asked me the other day if I could teach her to boil water so she’d know more than mommy.”

“Ha-ha,” Emily retorted. “Very funny.”

“Well, she did,” Marcie insisted. “Seriously, both girls want me to give them cooking lessons.”

Emily shrugged. “Then by all means, go for it. Let me know if Dani’s any good at it. If she is, maybe I’ll be able to stay out of the kitchen altogether.”

“You hate cooking that much?” Marcie asked, her expression incredulous.

“I hate most things I’m lousy at. Cooking tops the list. Sewing’s a close second with household organization right on their heels.”

“All my favorite things,” Marcie said. “How on earth did we ever become such good friends?”

“Proximity?” Emily suggested. “And the fact that you’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever known.”

Marcie grinned. “Ditto. Now let me get you that lasagna.”

She handed Emily a baking dish big enough to supply dinner for at least three nights.

“Are you sure you didn’t confuse my family with Josh’s Little League team?”

“You’ll have leftovers for another night,” Marcie said. “Want some cookies for the kids’ lunches?”

“Good heavens, no! I still have the ones you sent home with me yesterday. You need to take a day off from baking.”

“And do what?” Marcie asked with an expression that said she honestly had no idea what she’d do with herself.

“Spend the day with Paula,” Emily suggested at once. “And take a few dozen cookies to the nurses, so they’ll treat her right.”

Marcie’s face lit up. “I’ll do it first thing tomorrow.”

“Give her another hug from me and tell her we miss her at school. Let her know I’ll stop by the hospital after work with all the gossip.”

Marcie walked outside with her. “She’s going to be okay, you know.”

“I know,” Emily said automatically as she slipped through the opening Josh had cut in the hedge between the houses. She just wished she could believe it.

Chapter 4

Emily had barely left the house, when Marcie heard the garage door open and realized Ken was home, hours earlier than usual. Her stomach immediately tied itself into knots. Whatever had brought him home at this hour couldn’t possibly be good. Still, she took a quick look at herself in a mirror to check her hair and makeup, then plastered a smile on her face as she waited for him.

When he finally came inside, his tie was askew, his collar open and, if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d been drinking. Her smile immediately faltered.

“Ken, what’s wrong?”

“The bastards fired me, that’s what’s wrong,” he said, immediately going to the liquor cabinet and splashing several inches of Scotch into a glass, then taking a gulp that clearly wasn’t his first of the day. “I’ve worked my butt off for those jerks for how many years now? Fifteen? And now I’m history.”

“Did they tell you why?” she asked hesitantly, knowing as soon as the words were out of her mouth that it was exactly the wrong thing to ask.

His face flushed an even brighter shade of red. “Because they’re idiots, that’s why. One little mistake and none of the accounts I brought in, none of the work I’d done for them mattered.”

Marcie smothered a desire to point out that if the mistake had been so small, surely they would never have done such a thing. Ken had worked hard for them for years. She might not know a lot about the corporate world, but surely they wouldn’t have fired him over something insignificant. Had she said such a thing, though, Ken’s already precarious mood would have turned even darker. She doubted she’d ever hear the whole story. Ken never admitted his failures. It must be killing him just to confess he’d been fired.

She also had to swallow all of the questions she had about what came next, whether they’d offered him severance at least. There was little use in admitting to her own panic at the thought of him being unemployed. Underneath all of Ken’s bravado, she was sure he was fearful enough for both of them. Nor was he likely to have any of the reassuring answers she wanted to hear. It was too soon. Her role, of which she was very much aware, was to boost his self-confidence, not to add to his troubles or make him feel worse.

Although she was silent, he scowled at her as if she’d voiced her thoughts. “Well, don’t you have anything else to say? I’m sure you think this is my fault.”

“I never said that. You’ve given a lot to that company and it’s their loss that you’re gone. Another company will snap you up, I’m sure of it.”

“Aren’t you just little Mary Sunshine,” he said sarcastically.

Despite his nasty attitude, she was determined to think positively. That’s what he needed from her. “I just think it’s important to be optimistic. This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for, Ken. You could finally open your own company. You have more than enough experience to do that.”

For the first time since he’d walked in, the anger seemed to fade from his eyes. The fear Marcie knew he was trying to cover drained away as well. He sank into a chair at the kitchen table and regarded her with a bewildered expression. “How’d I make such a mess of things? I blew off one meeting. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but apparently it was to the client. They were nervous about our campaign and me canceling the meeting made their anxiety escalate. They told my boss I was unreliable and that since they obviously couldn’t count on me, they’d go elsewhere. If it had been any other client, it might not have mattered, but this was our foot in the door and I destroyed our chance to get more work.”

Marcie couldn’t believe that after years of missing family occasions for work, Ken would skip out on an important business meeting. “Why, Ken?” she asked, not even trying to hide her frustration. “Why would you cancel a meeting? You never do that.”

“I was wooing another potential client. He wanted to play golf. I thought everything would work out fine.”

“Did the new client sign with the firm?”

He shook his head, looking utterly defeated. “No, so it was all for nothing. It was a judgment call and I blew it. What the hell are we going to do now?”

Falling into her familiar role as cheerleader, she stood behind him and massaged his tense shoulders. “It’s not a disaster, Ken. It’s not.”

For several minutes it was so quiet that Marcie could hear the ticking of the clock on the wall, but eventually Ken rested a hand atop hers.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. None of this is your fault. I just wasn’t expecting this, you know.”

“I know,” she said, moving around to sit in his lap so she could meet his gaze. If ever there’d been a time when he needed her support, this was it. “This isn’t the end of the world. I have so much faith in you, more than you have in yourself, I think.”

His lips curved slightly. “You always did, even way back when we first met. Nobody’d ever believed in me like that. I know I don’t always tell you how much I appreciate what you do around here, but I do. I don’t know what I’d do without you in my corner.”

The rare praise warmed her heart. Sometimes she wondered if he even noticed her at all, much less appreciated her. And his careless words had the capacity to cut her to the quick. A moment like this, though, reminded her of the gentle, sensitive man she’d married. All too often she feared he’d gotten lost along the way in his frantic climb to the top.

She looked into his eyes. “What do you want to do next?” she asked. “If you could choose anything, what would it be?”

He gave her a lopsided, boyish grin. “Take you upstairs to bed?”

Her heart skipped a beat, even though she doubted he could even make it up the stairs on his currently unsteady legs.

“Besides that,” she said, careful to keep her tone light so he wouldn’t take offense at the apparent rejection.

He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Hell if I know,” he murmured sleepily.

“Well, we’ll figure it out tomorrow,” she assured him. “Why don’t you lie down in the den and rest before the kids get home? I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready.”

“Probably should take a shower, sober up,” he muttered. “Don’t want them to know I’ve been drinking.”

“Good idea,” she said, relieved that he was thinking that clearly. “I’ll run up and bring down a change of clothes for you and you can use the shower in the guest suite.” In the doorway, she hesitated, then said, “And let’s not tell them what’s going on just yet, okay? Let’s wait till we have a plan.”

“Sure,” he said, stumbling past her. “You always know the right thing to do, Marcie. Always right.”

At his words, which didn’t sound at all like a compliment, tears stung her eyes, but she had too much pride to let them fall. This was the way things went with Ken. One moment he was sweet as could be and the next he could cut her heart out.

Dani studied Caitlyn’s scared expression. In the five years she’d known her, she’d never once seen Caitlyn scared, not even when they’d ridden this totally awesome, terrifying roller coaster on a trip to Disney World. Because there was a two-year age difference, Caitlyn tried hard to act as grown-up as Dani. Sometimes Dani even forgot she was only ten. At other times, Dani felt that two-year age difference was as vast as the ocean. She felt grown-up at twelve, almost a teenager, and sometimes like now, she felt responsible for the younger girl.

“You okay?” she asked when Caitlyn, who was never silent for more than a minute, hadn’t said a word for way longer than that.

Caitlyn shook her head. “Something’s going on at my house.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Every time I walk into a room my mom and dad get real quiet, like they don’t want me or Evan to know something.”

“You think they’re getting a divorce?” Dani asked, her own voice trembling and barely above a whisper. That was her own biggest fear, that her mom and dad would wake up one day to the fact that they hardly ever saw each other and decide to split for good. She’d never heard them fight, but she knew being apart that much couldn’t be good. Moms and dads were supposed to do stuff together. Even though Mr. Carter worked all the time and could be a real jerk, the Carters still did more things together than her own mom and dad ever did.

Caitlyn’s eyes widened at the question. “No!” she shouted, then promptly burst into tears.

Filled with regret for making the suggestion, Dani moved to her side and draped an arm around her shoulders. “It’s probably not that,” she insisted. “I was just guessing. They probably just had a fight or something.”

Caitlyn shook her head. “I think maybe my dad’s sick.”

Dani frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“Because he’s been home every day this week.”

“Couldn’t he be on vacation?”

“He’s never taken a vacation. He didn’t even take a day off to go to Disney World with us, remember?”

“Still, that doesn’t mean he’s sick.”

“Then what could it be?” Caitlyn asked.

“I don’t know,” Dani admitted. She looked at her friend. “Maybe you should just ask your mom.”

Not that she wanted to ask her mom if she’d ever thought about divorcing her dad. For one thing, her mom would probably tell her it was personal and that she didn’t need to know, which was bogus. A divorce might be between her parents, but it affected her, too. And Josh, though he was oblivious to what was going on right under their noses. Plus he was fourteen, which meant he was oblivious to everything except sports and girls.

Beside her, Caitlyn sighed. “I don’t think my mom will tell me anything. She probably thinks she and my dad are doing a great job of keeping this, whatever it is, from me and Evan.”

“What does Evan think?” Dani asked.

Caitlyn gave her an incredulous look that was wise beyond her years. “If it doesn’t involve a ball or a bat, he doesn’t think about it at all.”

Dani grinned. “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean,” she commiserated. “Brothers are a pain, huh?”

“A royal pain,” Caitlyn agreed.

Silence fell and, once again, Dani was the first to break it. “I’ll bet things will be okay any day now and you’ll have done all this worrying for nothing.”

“Probably so,” Caitlyn said.

But Dani could tell, looking into her eyes, that she wasn’t buying it.

For the first time in forever, Emily went for a couple of weeks without catching more than a glimpse of Marcie. What little spare time she had was spent with Paula, who was not only sick as a dog from the chemo, but showing signs of depression. Emily and her other friends from school were spending as much time with her as possible trying to lift her spirits and take care of some of the household chores. Emily did laundry during her visits, others brought casseroles, and any one of them dusted or straightened up if the house needed it. Marcie was driving her to appointments, which were mostly in the morning, so they rarely crossed paths.

Paula’s kids were tiptoing around the house trying to be quiet, trying to be brave. It broke Emily’s heart every time she saw them.

“Why don’t you let me take the kids home with me tonight?” she suggested to Paula. “You and Dave can have an evening on your own.”

“To do what, stare at each other and avoid the one topic neither of us wants to talk about?” Paula responded.

Emily regarded her with surprise. “If you want to talk, then you probably need to take the lead. I suspect Dave is trying not to upset you.”

Paula sighed. “No, the truth is we’ve run out of things to say. I mean, really, it’s not as if anything’s changed. I had surgery. Now I’m doing chemo. No one knows how any of this is going to turn out. What is there to talk about? Funeral arrangements?”

“Stop that!” Emily said, dismayed. “You’ll be old and gray before you need to worry about that. Maybe what you need to tell your husband, though, is that you’re scared. You have a right to be, you know. This is scary stuff.”

Paula’s eyes suddenly welled with tears. “When the doctor first told me and we came up with this whole plan, it was, like, okay, good. There’s a plan. I know what to do. Then all of a sudden, I realized, I could actually die…” She frowned when Emily started to interrupt. “No, you know it’s true. Why deny it? There is no guarantee in this plan that I won’t die.” She choked back a sob. “My kids aren’t even in high school yet, and I could miss seeing them graduate or get married. I could miss having grandkids.”

“But you’re not going to miss anything,” Emily said. “You are going to beat this. I insist on it.”

Paula chuckled, then swiped at her damp face with a tissue. “God, you sound just like Marcie. You spend too much time together. You’re starting to sound alike.”

“Are you kidding? She’s much more refined than I am,” Emily said.

Paula gave her an odd look. “Why would you say that? Because she spends a fortune on clothes and you don’t? Because she bakes cookies and makes gourmet meals? None of that makes her one bit better than you.”

Emily sighed. “I’m sorry. I sound as if I have a bad case of petty jealousy, don’t I? And I don’t, not really. I adore Marcie.”

“Me, too,” Paula said. “She’s been a godsend with all these appointments.” She frowned slightly. “Have you noticed that she seems a little off lately?”

Emily regarded her with a puzzled expression. “Off how?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it, just not her usual upbeat self, as if there’s something weighing on her.”

“To be honest I haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks, but she was okay last time we were together.”

“Maybe you should give her a call. I asked if everything was okay, but she blew me off. You two are much closer. Maybe she’ll open up with you.”

“I’ll call her the minute I get home. Thanks for saying something. Now you just need to say something about how you’re feeling to your husband. I’ve never seen a man more devoted to anyone than Dave is to you. Don’t shut him out, Paula. Let him be there for you.”

“I just feel he’s had to accept so much already,” Paula said. “The mastectomy, me starting to lose my hair, being sick all the time. It pretty much destroys the mystique that marriage needs to stay alive.”

“Or maybe it puts it on a whole new footing,” Emily suggested, giving her hand a squeeze. “Talk to him, okay?”

“I’ll do it tonight, bossy,” Paula said. “Thanks for being one of my biggest morale boosters.”

“You’d do the same for me,” Emily told her.

As she drove home, it wasn’t Paula’s low mood that was on her mind, though, it was her observation that something was going on with Marcie. As soon as she walked in the door, she picked up the phone.

“Hey,” she said when Marcie picked up, “mind if I run over for a minute?”

To her surprise, Marcie hesitated, then said, “Why don’t I come there instead? Five minutes, okay?”

“Sure,” Emily said, then slowly hung up, trying to recall the last time Marcie had wanted to stop by her house for a late-afternoon visit, rather than having Emily come over.

She waited until she saw Marcie coming through the hedge, then called out, “How about lemonade? I just bought a carton at the store yesterday and I don’t think the kids have been into it yet.”

“Sounds good. Did you see Paula today?”

“Just left her,” Emily confirmed as she went inside and took the carton from the refrigerator.

“Was her mood any better than it was this morning? She was pretty down.”

“The same this afternoon, but we talked a little and I think she felt better by the time I left.” She poured the lemonade over ice and put the glasses on the table, then sat down to join Marcie. “So, how are you? We haven’t had a minute to catch up for a couple of weeks now. How’d your mammogram go?”

“It was fine. Yours?”

“Okay, thank goodness, though I am not anxious to repeat the experience anytime soon.” She studied Marcie’s face and thought she detected a shadow of worry in her eyes. “Everything else okay?”

“Sure.”

“Really? You look as if something’s on your mind.”

Marcie’s smile seemed forced. “Not at all. I’ve just been very busy. Ken’s going out on his own, which means there are a thousand and one details for me to follow through on.”

Emily regarded her with surprise. “He’s opening his own company? When did that happen?”

Marcie avoided her gaze. “Oh, he’s been thinking about it forever and the time seemed right.”

Emily wasn’t buying it. There was something Marcie wasn’t saying, but obviously whatever it was she didn’t want to share it with Emily. “That’s great,” she said with feigned enthusiasm. “He must be excited.”

“And more demanding than usual,” Marcie said, her expression wry. “We’ve been looking at office space and picking out furniture. I could do all of that for him, but he insists on second-guessing every decision I make.”

“You’re not thinking of going to work for him, are you?” Emily asked.

Again, Marcie avoided meeting her gaze. “Just for a few weeks till things settle down.”

“Oh, Marcie, are you sure that’s wise?” she blurted before she could stop herself.

Marcie stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“Just that he can be awfully hard to please.”

“Don’t I know it,” Marcie agreed, visibly relaxing. “But it will only be for a little while, then he’ll find someone permanent.”

“Not if you do the same superb job for him at the office that you do at home,” Emily commented.

For the first time since she’d arrived, Marcie’s smile was genuine. “Honey, don’t you know by now that I am smart enough not to let that happen? I’ve lived with the man for more than fifteen years. I know exactly how to get him to replace me when I’m ready to go.”

Emily laughed. “That’s good then.”

“Everything okay around here?” Marcie asked. “The kids say Derek has been gone for a couple of weeks now. That’s even longer than usual, isn’t it?”

Emily’s good mood faded. “Yes, and it’s getting really old. I hardly feel as if I’m married anymore. Josh is getting to the age when he needs his dad around more than ever, but I can’t even catch up with Derek half the time to tell him what’s going on with his son, much less get his advice on how to handle it. Then when he is here, the kids have figured out how to play us off against one another because they know we never have time to come up with a joint plan. And Derek will always agree to whatever they ask, because he feels guilty about being gone. I’m sick of having to be the bad guy all the time.”

Marcie frowned. “I’ve never heard you say a word against your husband before.”

“I’ve never been this frustrated before,” Emily admitted. “I think watching Dave hover over Paula has made me realize what’s missing in my marriage. Derek is a wonderful man in many ways, but he and I simply don’t have a real partnership. I wanted that from my marriage.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Marcie asked. “Have you told Derek how you feel?”

“More times than I can count. He just keeps saying things will get better. I’m rapidly losing patience.”

“You’re not thinking about divorcing him, are you?” Marcie asked, her tone hushed as if she hated to even speak the word.

Emily sighed. “I honestly have no idea what I’m going to do,” she said. “But I’m getting really tired of the status quo.”

And if Derek wasn’t motivated to change it, one of these days she would have to.

“What about a trial separation?” Marcie asked. “Maybe that would be just the wake-up call he needs.”

Emily shot her a look filled with irony. “We’re separated all the time as it is.”

“This would be different,” Marcie insisted. “But, okay, what about counseling?”

“I suggested it, and Derek even agreed to consider it, but every time I scheduled an appointment, we had to cancel because of one of his business trips. When I pointed out to him that that was exactly the problem with our lives, he accused me of not supporting his career the way he’s supported mine. Then he had the audacity to suggest that if I hadn’t gone back into teaching, I could have been traveling with him.”

“Maybe he had a point,” Marcie suggested.

“Oh, please, have you forgotten we have two children?” Emily retorted, as irritated now as she had been when Derek had made his outrageous claim. “What are we supposed to do with them if both of us go gallivanting off all over the place? Park them with you?”

“You could have,” Marcie said.

“No,” Emily replied fiercely. “It is not up to you to raise my kids.”

Marcie reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Just don’t do anything rash, okay? Derek’s a great guy. You know that.”

“I do know,” Emily said with a sigh. “That’s why this is so awful.”

But more and more she was convinced that divorce might be the only way out.

Six months later, when Josh was fifteen and Dani thirteen, Emily finally called it quits with her marriage. She’d tired of the loneliness, of Derek’s long absences on business trips. All the money in the world couldn’t compensate for the sense that she was the only one truly giving anything to their relationship.

As she sat at Marcie’s kitchen table, tears rolled down her cheeks. It didn’t matter that the decision was right. It still hurt.

“I don’t know what else to do,” she told Marcie. “Am I wrong for wanting more out of my marriage? Nothing I’ve said has made one bit of difference with Derek. Nothing’s changed.”

Marcie gave her a sympathetic look. “No,” she said softly. “But you’re braver than I am. I don’t think I could face being on my own. What would I do?”

For an instant, Emily was snapped out of her own troubles. “Are you and Ken having problems? You always seem so cheerful.” In fact, she’d often wondered how Marcie stayed so upbeat when her husband was such a jerk. Ever since Ken had opened his own office, he’d been worse than ever. Marcie had worked for him for exactly two weeks before she’d insisted on hiring her own replacement.

Marcie regarded her with a wry expression. “Cheerful is in my job description. Do everything around here, keep a perfect house, fix perfect meals, raise perfect children, and smile no matter what. Heaven forbid, anyone see a crack in the image of a perfect family.”

It was the first time that Emily had detected even a trace of bitterness in her friend. “I had no idea you were so unhappy. I mean I know he drove you nuts at work, but I thought everything else was solid. I guess we’ve both done a pretty good job of covering, even with each other.”

“Some things you don’t share, not even with best friends,” Marcie said. “And I’m not unhappy. Not really. I’m just having one of those days, I suppose.” She waved off the comment before Emily could respond, then forced a smile. “Enough about me. Are you really going to ask Derek for a divorce?”

“Ask? No, I think this is one time when I’ll tell him how it’s going to be.” She gave Marcie a rueful smile. “You know the really sad part? He’ll be shocked.”

“Then maybe that will give you a chance. You’ll have his full attention.”

Emily shook her head. “It won’t be enough to make him change and since I can’t change my expectations, it’s too late. I just have to accept that it’s over.”

To Emily’s regret, she was right. Derek was stunned when she told him she intended to file for divorce, but he didn’t even waste his breath protesting that he would change when they both knew the words would be little more than empty promises. He just quietly packed his bags and moved to a suite in a hotel closer to his office.

The kids seemed to take it in stride, too, since little changed around the house. They’d grown accustomed to their father being gone on the most important occasions of their lives. He hadn’t been in town for a birthday or school assembly or awards ceremony in years.

The divorce was accomplished with a minimum of fuss and hardly any lingering resentment. Perhaps that was the saddest part of all.

As she and Derek left the courthouse, she regarded him closely for any sign that he regretted the dissolution of their marriage as much as she did. Instead, he looked as if he were in his usual hurry to be somewhere else.

“I don’t suppose you want to go somewhere for coffee and talk about this,” she said.

He studied her blankly for a minute. “This?”

“How our lives are going to change now. When you’re going to see the kids. That kind of thing.”

“I thought we’d work it out as we go,” he said. “We don’t need some sort of formal agreement, do we?”

Emily sighed. “No, of course not.”

He gave her a distracted kiss on the cheek as if they were separating till dinner, rather than for the rest of their lives.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said. “Call me if you or the kids need anything.”

She watched him stride off and tried to remember how she’d ever fallen in love with a man capable of such a total lack of emotion. The last time she’d seen Derek’s eyes shine with excitement or enthusiasm, he’d been talking about some deal he’d made, not looking at her or the kids at all.

She told herself she was well rid of him, that her future was brighter without him, that she could cope with raising the kids on her own since she’d been doing it that way for years anyway.

By the time she got home, she’d convinced herself that she was just fine. She threw her purse on the kitchen table, walked outside and crossed the yard and went straight to Marcie’s back door. It opened before she could knock and Marcie held out her arms. Emily stepped into the embrace and burst into tears.

“It’s over,” she whispered. “In the blink of an eye, it was just over, almost as if it didn’t even matter.”

“Of course it mattered,” Marcie said fiercely. “You and Derek had some good times, you know you did. And you have two amazing kids. How could that not matter?”

“It doesn’t to Derek,” she said with a sniff.

“I doubt that.”

“He walked away without a second glance. He was already thinking about his next meeting.”

“Which is exactly why you divorced him,” Marcie reminded her. “But that doesn’t mean it was always that way. You’re allowed to mourn the good memories, even while you curse his black soul for making you so miserable.”

Emily grinned through her tears. “Curse his black soul? Where’d you come up with that one? Did Caitlyn sneak one of my historical romance novels over to you? Besides, he hasn’t made me miserable. He left me feeling nothing and that’s a thousand times worse.”

“I’m sorry,” Marcie said, then gave her a hesitant look. “I baked a cake for the occasion.”

Emily laughed. Leave it to the ultimate planner to have thought of that. “Of course, you did. Are we having a party, too?”

“I have half-a-dozen people on standby if you want one,” Marcie said. “Should I call them?”

“What the hell,” Emily replied. “Somebody needs to mark the occasion. Make those calls.” She hesitated. “What about the kids?”

“Paula and I have that covered. Dave’s taking all of them out to a ball game and pizza after. We thought it would be a good distraction for Dani and Josh. Okay with you?”

“What would I do without friends like you guys?”

“Have a pity party all alone?” Marcie suggested.

“Probably,” Emily agreed. “But there wouldn’t be cake.”

Chapter 5

Marcie was at her wit’s end. If Ken had been obsessed with work before, he was now a thousand times worse. Hardly a night passed when he didn’t have a business dinner and even weekends were spent playing golf with clients, then hanging around the club to have drinks.

At first, she’d anticipated that she’d be as busy as he was, entertaining the way she’d always done, but to her dismay he took his clients to restaurants. It was rare that he even thought to include her. It left her at loose ends and with the kids getting older, she had fewer and fewer demands on her time. Neither Evan nor Caitlyn appreciated a gourmet meal, when they could grab a burger with their friends. She’d even cut back on her baking, since she was almost the only one eating the cookies, cakes and pies. She still kept something on hand for Emily’s visits, but lately both of them had started worrying about their weight. More and more, brownies, lemon bars and decadent chocolate cake were guilty pleasures reserved for special occasions.

Today, though, she simply didn’t give a darn about any of that. She’d baked a key lime pie, her personal favorite, and if she wanted to sit at the kitchen table and eat the whole thing, then who was going to stop her? She was on her second slice when Emily walked in.

“Uh-oh,” she said, observing the pie. “What’s wrong?”

“It has just dawned on me that I am obsolete,” Marcie told her, taking another bite of pie.

Emily frowned at the comment. “By whose assessment?” she asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee from the fresh pot Marcie had brewed a few minutes earlier.

“Mine.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You’re a wife, a mother, an active volunteer in the school and yet somehow you’ve decided you don’t matter?”

“Pretty much,” Marcie said, shoving the remaining three-quarters of the pie across the table. “Help yourself.”

“I don’t think so, because obviously some ingredient in that pie has addled your brain.”

“No, hear me out,” Marcie told her. “Ken’s completely consumed with work and he doesn’t even need me to entertain his clients anymore. Evan’s either playing football, practicing football or chasing girls. He manages to find sufficient time in there to keep his grades up, but the only things he needs me for are laundry and the occasional infusion of cash.”

Emily nodded. “Okay, I do recognize those symptoms. Josh is almost as bad, though he does expect me to get breakfast on the table for him and to keep the refrigerator stocked with milk and the cupboard filled with bread and peanut butter. Under duress, he will actually hold a conversation with me that consists of more than monosyllables and grunts.”

Marcie gestured with her fork. “See, I told you. You’re only marginally better off than I am. The big difference is that Dani still needs you and you have your job.”

“Well, I’m sure Caitlyn still needs you. She’s fourteen, even younger than Dani.”

“In Caitlyn’s case, she’s fourteen going on thirty. She’s convinced I know absolutely nothing of value. I suspect she talks to you more than she does to me.”

Emily flushed.

“See, I knew it!” Marcie said.

“Well, Dani probably talks to you more than she does to me,” Emily countered. “That’s typical. It hardly means you’re obsolete.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do with my time? It’s not as if they’re looking for room-mothers for the seniors, or even for the eighth-graders. I offered to chaperon a field trip the other day and Caitlyn pitched a fit. She said she would be totally humiliated if I did that.”

“And you interpreted that to mean what?” Emily asked. “That she was rejecting you? Embarrassed by you?”

“Both of those,” Marcie said.

“She’s just struggling to find her independence,” Emily corrected. “It has nothing to do with you, so don’t take it personally. Trust me, at that age none of the kids want their parents to chaperon anything, which is why teachers end up doing it.”

Marcie knew she was probably right. Emily had a lot more experience dealing with teenage angst than she did. That still didn’t give her a clue about what she was supposed to do with all this time she suddenly had on her hands.

“Okay, I’ll concede that I’m probably overreacting,” she said finally. “But I honestly have no idea what to do to fill my days.”

“Get a job,” Emily suggested.

“Please,” Marcie scoffed. “Doing what?”

“Anything you want to do. Get a real estate license. Take classes and get licensed as an interior designer. You’d be great at that. Open a catering business or a bakery. There are probably a thousand things you could do. You just have to choose something that excites you.”

“Other than a few years working retail when we were first married and the two whole weeks I worked for Ken, I don’t exactly have a stellar résumé.”

“Which is why opening something of your own would be ideal,” Emily said enthusiastically. “Ken’s business is on a solid footing now, isn’t it? You could afford to take a risk.”

“I suppose,” Marcie said, but with little conviction. She’d never been much of a risk taker. She’d liked being a housewife and mom. It had been challenging and rewarding. Any other work sounded like drudgery.

Still, Emily wasn’t letting up. “Talk to Ken,” she prodded. “See what he says.”

“I know what he’ll say. He’ll tell me I already have a job running this house. The possibility that he might have to remember to take out the trash or call the plumber would horrify him.”

“He’d want you to be happy, though, wouldn’t he?”

“Of course,” Marcie said a little too quickly, then added candidly, “as long as it doesn’t inconvenience him.” She met Emily’s gaze. “The thing of it is, I already know what makes me happy. I just don’t see any way to get it back again without getting pregnant and having another child.”

Emily stared at her as if she’d suddenly grown two heads. “You wouldn’t!”

“Believe me, I’ve considered it,” Marcie said. She jabbed her fork into the pie and stuffed another bite in her mouth.

Emily studied her worriedly, then grabbed the remainder of the pie and dumped it in the sink.

“What are you doing?” Marcie cried out, appalled.

“Getting rid of this before you kill yourself with an overdose of sugar,” she said as she turned on the garbage disposal.

Apparently satisfied that she’d rid Marcie of temptation, Emily faced her with a stern expression. “Tomorrow morning I expect you to get out of this house and volunteer for something.”

Marcie stared at her blankly. “What?”

“Doesn’t matter. Anything that will make you feel useful and get you out of this mood. And tell your kids they’re having dinner at home tomorrow night and at least three nights a week from now on.”

“They’ll hate it.”

“They’ll deal. Tell Evan he needs good nutrition at least that often to keep his body in shape for football and tell Caitlyn she’s expected to be here because you say so. Be tough. Tell them neither one of them gets a dime for spending money if they don’t follow house rules. That ought to whip them right into shape.”

Marcie bit back a grin, her mood lifting ever so slightly.

“I can do that.”

“Of course, you can. I’ll be back tomorrow for a full report. The kids might be growing up, but there’s no reason you need to let them go one second sooner than you absolutely have to. They still need to know that their mom and dad are in charge.” She gave Marcie a curious look. “Think Ken will back you up?”

“He will if he expects to have sex anytime in the next twenty years,” Marcie said, then chuckled. “God, I feel better already.”

“Then my work here is done,” Emily said, giving her a hug. “Call if you need backup.”

“Just knowing I have it should do the trick,” Marcie told her.

Maybe she wasn’t quite obsolete, after all.

Dani couldn’t recall a time when she hadn’t been in and out of the Carter house as if it were her own. Caitlyn was her very best friend. They shared all their secrets, excluding the fact that Dani had a crush on Caitlyn’s big brother. It was something she would never in a million years have told her mom or her own brother. And it had seemed totally weird to tell Caitlyn.

She wasn’t entirely sure when she’d first looked at Evan and realized what a hunk he was. For a long time, he’d been like a brother, in other words a nuisance most of the time. Then one day she’d seen him with a bunch of girls at school and taken a good long look at him. He was hot! His body had filled out with muscle. He had the most amazing brown eyes, like chocolate, she thought dreamily. They were such a contrast to his blond hair, that turned really, really pale after he’d been outside in the sun for days on end. She didn’t care that much about football, which was his passion, but she knew enough to know he was good. Really good. She’d clipped half-a-dozen articles from the local paper about what a hot college prospect he was. She kept them in an old jewelry box under her bed, so no one in her family would see them.

After she’d pretty much been hit by some bolt of lightning, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She started getting these fluttery sensations in the pit of her stomach whenever he was around. She started doing dumb stuff, hoping he’d notice her, wearing the skimpiest bikini her mom would let her get away with, doing cannonballs in the pool, hanging out at football practice or at the Carters’ even more than usual. Evan could usually be found in the den watching movies once his homework was done. More than once she’d convinced Caitlyn to join him and hang out.

Unfortunately, Caitlyn had picked up on Dani’s interest, not Evan. The other day she’d called Dani on it.

“Do you have a thing for my brother?” she asked when they’d been in the Carters’ pool for hours and Josh and Evan had gone inside to grab snacks for all four of them.

“Quiet,” Dani said, mortified. “Do you want Evan to hear you?”

“Sorry, but you were acting all goofy. You’ve been doing that a lot lately when Evan’s around.”

“Well, you have to admit your brother’s pretty cool. Why wouldn’t I notice him?”

“You and every other girl,” Caitlyn said. “He must get, like, a hundred calls a night on his cell phone. I don’t get it myself. He’s a pain.”

“That’s just because he’s your brother. He’s cute and he’s smart.”

“And older than you. You’re wasting your time getting hung up on him. He thinks of you like a kid sister, same as me.”

Dani couldn’t deny it, but she still harbored hope that one day he’d wake up and notice her. After all she was underfoot all the time. Just last week he’d taken her and Caitlyn to the movies and decided at the last minute to see it with them. He’d even bought them drinks and popcorn. It had felt almost like a date. She’d put the movie stub into her treasure box with the clippings.

Afterward, though, Josh had gotten all weird when he’d heard about it. He’d come charging home and confronted her.

“I hope you’re not thinking about hanging out with Evan,” he said heatedly. “If you are, forget about it.”

“What difference does it make to you?” she demanded. “You’re not my keeper.”

“No, but I am your big brother. It’s my job to look out for you. Evan’s too old for you.”

“He’s eighteen,” Dani retorted. “Same as you.”

“And you’re sixteen.”

“I’m old enough to date.”

“Not Evan,” Josh repeated, his expression grim. “I mean it, Dani. Stay away from him. He’s trouble.”

She had no idea what he meant. The two of them hung out all the time. “That’s not a very nice thing to say,” she said. “He’s supposed to be your best friend.”

“It’s one thing to hang out with a guy. It’s another thing to let him spend time with your sister. Take my word for it, okay? Evan’s too experienced for you. Forget about him.”

“No, it is not okay,” Dani said stubbornly. “I’ll hang out with any guy I want to.”

Josh flushed. “If you don’t listen to me, I’ll talk to Mom. She’ll make you listen. Are we clear?”

Since having her mom find out that she was crazy about Evan was the last thing Dani wanted, she promised Josh she’d steer clear of him. He didn’t need to know that she’d kept her fingers crossed behind her back when she said it.

Now Caitlyn gave her the same dismayed look that Josh had given her.

“Forget about him, Dani,” she said with surprising urgency. “He’s not good enough for you.”

Dani regarded her with a puzzled expression. “How can you say something like that about your own brother?”

“Because I know him better than you do,” Caitlyn said. “He’s not always this nice guy, superjock, the way he pretends to be around your house.”

“You’re just saying that because he thinks you’re a pest,” Dani accused.

“No,” Caitlyn said emphatically. “Besides, it would be weird if you were dating my brother. Find some other guy to date and forget about Evan. Please.”

But of course, all those warnings accomplished was to make Evan more intriguing than ever. And luckily, because Evan and her brother still hung out together almost every day, there were plenty of opportunities for Dani to spend some time with him and find out for herself if he was the terrific guy she thought he was. Getting time alone with him was trickier, but one of these days she’d accomplish that, too.

It was the final football game of the season and the last of Evan’s high school career. Everyone at school was speculating that he’d have offers from the University of Miami, Florida and Florida State, but the coach had predicted he’d also be sought after by some top-notch out-of-state schools.

“Are you going to the game tonight?” Paula asked Emily that afternoon.

“Of course. I’d probably go anyway, but the fact that it’s Evan’s last game means that the Carters are making a big deal out of it. They’re having a party for the team afterward at their house. Marcie’s in her element. She’s been planning it for weeks. She went over the menu with Evan so many times, he finally told her to just order pizza, because she was making him nuts.”

Paula winced. “How’d she take that?”

“Oh, she brushed it off, and just made the next five versions of the menu on her own with a little input from Josh. He came home scratching his head one day and asked me what the hell pâté is. When I told him, he made a gagging sound and told me to call Marcie and tell her absolutely not, no way was she to serve anything that disgusting, to stick to chips and dip. I think she’s concluded that both our sons have no class whatsoever.”

Paula laughed. “It ought to be an interesting party.”

“I’m just glad that Marcie found a good excuse to throw one. She was really down there for a while, thinking that no one needed her anymore.”

“Doesn’t she get how much everyone counts on her, me included?” Paula said. “I will never forget how good she was to me when I was going through all those chemo and radiation treatments. And it wasn’t even that we were best friends, the way the two of you are. She just saw something she could do and she did it.”

“Well, if you ask me, one reason Marcie doesn’t value her own worth nearly enough is because of Ken,” Emily said, breaking the vow of silence she’d always taken on the subject of Marcie’s husband. Maybe it was because she’d overheard him snapping at her over nothing last night while she and Marcie had been on the phone. Her patience with his behavior had worn thin through the years and suddenly she couldn’t keep her low opinion to herself a second longer.

“How so?” Paula asked.

“He’s always dismissed what she does as if it were of no consequence,” Emily explained. “But I know he’d be the first to blow a gasket if she stopped doing it.”

Paula gave her an odd look. “You don’t like him much, do you?”

Emily hesitated, then shook her head. “No, mainly because of how he treats Marcie. She’s this wonderful, totally devoted wife and he demeans her every chance he gets. It’s taken everything in me over the years to bite my tongue and not call him on it.”

“Obviously he must have some good qualities for a woman like Marcie to stay with him all this time,” Paula suggested.

“I suppose,” Emily said, not even trying to hide her doubts.

One of the best things about her divorce was that for the past two years she’d hardly spent any time around Ken. Without Derek in the picture, Ken saw no need to waste his time trying to impress some high school teacher and they’d all but stopped doing things together as families. Tonight she was going to have to put aside her distaste and tolerate him, but with any luck she could escape from the Carters’ after an hour or so. The party was really for the kids, anyway, and her presence there—as Josh’s mom and a teacher from their school—would be a damper. She figured it was the perfect excuse to sneak away the second she’d had her fill of Ken’s bluster and ego.

Emily had done her best to steer clear of Ken all evening. To his son’s embarrassment, he was busy boasting about Evan’s game-winning touchdown in an increasingly boisterous way. Evan had repeatedly begged him to stop, but Ken had had a few drinks and was past listening.

Emily had retreated to the kitchen, planning to tell Marcie she was going home, when she overheard crying coming from the downstairs bathroom. Her instincts as a mom had her moving in that direction. She tapped on the door.

“It’s Mrs. Dobbs. Is everything okay?”

Her question was met with a loud sniff, but no response.

“If there’s anything I can do to help, I will,” she said. “Please talk to me.”

“Go away,” a girl murmured, her voice too thick with tears for Emily to be able to recognize it. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“I can listen,” she said.

“Just go away,” the girl pleaded. “I’ll be okay.”

Emily finally retreated and went in search of Dani. She found her by the pool, her adoring gaze locked on Evan. She shook her head. She’d figured that sooner or later Dani was going to develop a crush on their neighbor. Thank goodness it hadn’t happened till he was almost ready to leave for college. She was doubly thankful that Evan seemed to be oblivious to Dani’s infatuation. Though Evan had always been polite to her and was well liked in school, for some reason she didn’t think he’d be a good match for her daughter. She’d never been able to put her finger on why, other than those rare instances when she’d heard him being disrespectful to his mother. He’d sounded a little too much like his dad. Fortunately, he’d shelved the attitude at home and was always on his best behavior at school. Apparently he was wise enough to understand that teacher evaluations and good grades might be as important as athletic prowess when it came time for him to get into college. He made it a point to turn on the charm for most adults, in fact.

When Emily finally located Dani, she pulled her aside. “I need to speak to you for a second.”

Dani tore her attention away from Evan and followed Emily through the hedge to their backyard. “What’s going on?”

“Have you noticed anything happening tonight that might upset someone?”

“Like what? Who’s upset?”

“To be honest, I don’t know, but I overheard a girl sobbing in the downstairs bathroom. I tried to get her to talk to me, but she wouldn’t.”

Dani looked horrified. “Well, Mom, what did you expect? You probably freaked her out. What did you do, stand outside the bathroom door and interrogate her?”

Emily winced. “Something like that.”

“Jeez, Mom. How humiliating!”

“Okay, I get that it wasn’t the coolest thing in the world to do, but I’m still concerned.”

“Maybe one of the couples just broke up or something. We’re all practically grown-up. We don’t need our mommies trying to fix things.”

Duly chastised, Emily backed down. “Okay, I’ll let it drop, but keep your eyes open. There may be somebody over there who could use a friend, that’s all I’m saying.”

“If I see anybody bawling their eyes out, I’ll give them a tissue,” Dani promised, then hugged her. “You can’t be a mom to the whole world, you know.”

“I suppose not,” she agreed. “Just as long as you know that you can always come to me, no matter what.”

“Like I have any big problems,” Dani said, her expression lighthearted.

Emily cupped her daughter’s face in her hands. “Make sure it stays that way.” She pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Go on back to the party. Have fun and don’t stay too late. You still have curfew, even though the party’s at the Carters’.”

“Couldn’t I spend the night with Caitlyn?”

“Not when there are likely to be football players sprawled all over the place for most of the night.”

“But that’s why it would be so cool,” Dani said.

“And so out of the question,” Emily said. “Be home at midnight and not one second later.”

Dani gave her a resigned look. “Yes, ma’am. Does Josh have to be in at midnight?”

“He’s got a one a.m. curfew tonight, since he’s not driving.”

“That sucks.”

“Take it up with the court of appeals in the morning,” she suggested.

“Who’s that?”

Emily grinned. “Me.”

If she could get her kids through the next few years with their hearts and limbs in one piece and their minds at least halfway well educated, she would consider herself lucky. She thought of the brokenhearted sobs she’d heard earlier and amended the thought. She was already darn lucky.

Chapter 6

Present

The whole scene at the police station was totally surreal. Marcie felt as if she were caught up in a nightmare. All she wanted to do was grab her son and run. She’d declared him innocent until her throat was raw, but no one was listening to her. The two detectives had pointed her to a hard chair and told her to wait. She’d watched helplessly as they’d taken Evan off. He was still in handcuffs, and still berating them loudly and with language that made her cringe. Though she understood the fear and anger behind his outburst, she doubted his attitude was helping.

Across the squad room, Ken was on the phone trying to reach their attorney, who only handled civil matters, but might be willing to come to the station in the middle of the night to help them straighten out this mess. Every chance he got, Ken was also insisting that there be an immediate arraignment so he could take Evan home.

“Sir, that’s not going to happen before morning,” Detective Rodriguez told him. He had to raise his voice to be heard above Ken’s nonstop demands. “Why don’t you and your wife go home and get some rest?”

“I’m not leaving my son here so you can railroad him into confessing to something he didn’t do,” Ken snapped.

“We’re not going to railroad him into anything,” the detective responded, his tone growing increasingly impatient. “He’s asked for an attorney and until he has one, we’re not asking him a thing.”

“Yeah, right,” Ken said, getting in his face. “I know how guys like you operate. You want to write this up and get it off the books so you can move on to the next case.”

Marcie saw a muscle working in the detective’s jaw and guessed he was rapidly getting to the end of his rope. She crossed the room and put her hand on Ken’s arm. He jerked it away and scowled at her, clearly furious about her interfering. For once in their marriage, she refused to back down.

“Have you found an attorney?” she asked quietly. “Is Don coming in?”

“No, but he recommended somebody and said he’d give him a call. He told me to call back in a few minutes. He said he’d have another name if this guy wasn’t available. I was about to do that when this joker tried to hustle us out of here.”

Marcie avoided Detective Rodriguez’s eyes and focused on Ken. “Then don’t you think you should concentrate on getting in touch with Don again? Evan needs legal repre-sentation as quickly as possible, so we can put this behind us. The last thing he needs is us making a scene that will make things worse for him.”

“Okay, okay,” Ken said, shooting another lethal look at the detective before dialing the number for their longtime business attorney.

Marcie turned to the detective. “Could I see my son?”

He hesitated a moment, then nodded. “I don’t see why not. Come with me.”

He led the way to an interrogation room. The pretty, dark-haired detective whose name Marcie had forgotten was sitting outside the door, her presence a disturbing reminder that Evan was in custody.

“Let her spend some time with her son,” Detective Rodriguez said.

“Sure,” the woman said, giving Marcie a look filled with surprising compassion. “You doing okay, ma’am?”

“I’ve had better nights,” Marcie told her.

“I imagine so.” She looked as if she wanted to say more but, instead, she merely opened the door for Marcie.

Inside the nearly bare, sterile room, Marcie found her son seated at a table with his head resting on his arms. When he glanced up, she saw the fear in his eyes for a split second before he managed to hide it behind the bravado of a boy trying desperately to prove himself a man.

“Mom, what are you doing here?”

“I came with your father, of course. Are you okay?”

“What do you think?” He blinked back a traitorous tear that threatened to escape. “You should go home. Dad’s got everything under control.”

Marcie knew better, but she didn’t say that. Resisting the desire to rush around the table and hug Evan, a move she knew he’d despise, she sat across from him instead and reached for his hand.

“Tell me what happened, Evan. Explain to me how the police could have come to this horrible conclusion.”

He frowned at her. “What, are you working for the cops now? You want me to make some big confession so they can use it against me?”

Marcie stared at him in shock. “Of course not. I just want to help. How can I do that if I don’t understand how this happened?”

“It’s not your problem,” he said. “Dad will get an attorney over here and I’ll be out in a few hours. This will never stick.” His cocky expression faltered. “You believe me, right?”

“You’re my son and I have faith in you,” she said, not entirely certain why she couldn’t put any more conviction in her statement than that. Surely this whole thing was a lie. She wanted to believe that her son was incapable of raping anyone. No, she did believe it! Evan simply couldn’t do such a thing.

Unfortunately, Evan heard the note of doubt in her voice. “You’d believe the word of some lying little slut over mine?” he asked incredulously.

Marcie immediately sat up a little straighter and looked him in the eye. “No son of mine will ever refer to a woman—any woman—in that way, do you understand me? And if you expect anyone to believe you about this, I suggest you drop that disrespectful attitude at once. It won’t serve you well.”

Evan blinked at her harsh tone, probably because he hadn’t heard it in years. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “But, come on, Mom, what do you expect? She says I raped her.”

“Did the two of you have sex? Can they prove that?”

Evan’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Marcie knew this was no time to mince words. She had to be strong and get to the bottom of this, if only for her own peace of mind. “Did you?”

“Yes.”

“Then there’s no question about that much,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact, her heart aching. God, could this be any more of a disaster? “But you’re saying it was consensual.”

“Damn straight, that’s what I’m saying. I know when a woman wants to sleep with me.”

There was an arrogant note in his voice that made her wince. “Oh? How do you know that?”

He faltered at the direct question. “I can just tell, okay? Come on, Mom. Do you really want to discuss this? It creeps me out talking to you about my sex life.”

Marcie wasn’t overjoyed about the conversation either, but she knew his answers were too important to back off just because the topic made them both a little squeamish. “What if she says no? Is that enough for you?” she asked, cursing herself for leaving this kind of conversation to Ken. Who knew what he’d taught his son about sex, probably that a man could get whatever he wanted with enough charm and determination.

Evan pushed away from the table so quickly that his chair tumbled backward and crashed on the floor. The door to the room immediately opened and Detective Rodriguez walked in.

“Everything okay in here?”

Marcie forced a smile. “Certainly. Evan stood up too quickly and the chair fell. It was just an accident.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he retreated.

Marcie returned her attention to her son. “You haven’t answered me, Evan. Do you take no for an answer?”

“I’m not talking about this with you,” he said tightly. “Go home where you belong and let Dad handle everything. At least he’s on my side.”

Marcie paled at the hurtful remark, but she refused to back down. “I’m on your side, too, but I’m also a big believer in facing facts. Having a woman claim that you raped her is a very serious thing, Evan. It’s not just going to go away. You might be able to talk your way out of a speeding ticket, but not this. This could destroy your life, do you understand that?”

“You’re just full of good cheer, aren’t you, Mom? Go home, okay? Dad will fix this.”

Her gaze clashed with her son’s, but in the end she was the one to look away. The cocky self-assurance she saw there made her want to cry. She would stand beside Evan no matter what, because he was her son, but in that instant she knew she couldn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth.

Emily was as stunned as everyone else when the rumor that Evan had been arrested for date rape spread through the school by mid-morning on Monday. According to the head-lines splashed across the local page of the morning paper, an unidentified freshman at the University of Miami had accused him of the attack, saying that rather than leaving after their date, he’d insisted on coming in and then demanded sex. When she’d turned him down, he’d raped her.

During her first break, Emily read the article with a sense of disbelief, especially since Marcie had been deliberately vague about why the police had come for Evan. In fact, their only conversation after she’d called to ask if Caitlyn could stay with Emily had been a request that Emily keep Caitlyn for the rest of the weekend.

“There’s too much going on over here right now and she doesn’t need to hear any of it,” Marcie had said, sounding completely drained.

“Caitlyn can stay as long as you want,” Emily assured her. “Shall I come by for her things or send her over?”

“No,” Marcie had said quickly. “I’ll pack a few things and drop them by.”

“She has a lot of questions,” Emily had warned her.

Marcie sighed. “We all do.”

Finally Emily understood the hint of desperation she’d heard in Marcie’s voice and her rushed visit to drop off Caitlyn’s clothes. She’d barely said a word beyond thanking Emily for taking care of Caitlyn and being sure she got to school on Monday.

Now, as Emily scanned the morning paper in the teacher’s lounge, she tried to imagine the way she’d feel if this had been Josh who’d been accused of such a thing. She also wondered what on earth Marcie had been thinking by allowing Caitlyn to go to school this morning. A sensitive fifteen-year-old girl wasn’t prepared to cope with the stares and whispers and intrusive questions about her brother that were bound to hound her during the day.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.