"Thanks for doing the dishes."
"You're welcome. It's one of my best skills," he said with a broad smile. He gave Jen a kiss on the cheek and squeezed her hand before he walked off to catch up with the others.
Jen blushed when she saw Mrs. Grover's curtain drop and couldn't figure out quite why. What was the harm with a peck on the cheek from an old friend?
She decided that Mrs. Grover just didn't have enough to do, and she headed back up the porch steps, glad that everyone seemed to have a nice time.
Twenty-One
Jen’s living room and guest room looked like bombs had gone off in them—but at least Carrie’s condo was clean and ready for Bethany’s impending arrival. Jen had spent a good part of the week over there cleaning out boxes and getting things in order. Carrie was right. It was all white. White everything—which still seemed strange to Jen as Carrie was such a colorful dresser. She planned to ask Faith later if maybe she had some pillows they could at least put on the white bed for when Bethany arrived.
It had been a lot of work, but they were ready. And now they were looking forward to a relaxing happy hour on Jen’s deck. Jen couldn’t think of anything she needed more at the moment.
Carrie was even more excited now than when she’d first heard and didn’t even seem to be bothered that Rob was still furious. He’d relented, but Jen was sure he was still holding a grudge. If he wasn’t, Cassidy sure was.
Her phone buzzed, and she checked her texts. Faith was on her way and would be arriving soon, so she hustled up on the appetizer she was trying.
Faith had mentioned that Jen’s dad asked her to stop by to pick up some avocados, and Jen realized she hadn’t talked to her father in quite some time—not since they’d all agreed to keep the beach house in the family. She made another mental note to call him over the weekend but was glad that he’d asked Faith to stop by. She’d be happy to get the avocados.
Since she hadn’t had any in a while, she’d decided just to make bruschetta and add the avocados. She’d gotten some fresh mozzarella and a baguette at the market and picked up a basil plant that she thought maybe she could keep alive in her windowsill. She’d just finished the balsamic reduction and slicing the tomatoes when Faith and Carrie arrived at the same time.
“Oh, man. Nothing like a real one. Not the grocery store kind,” Faith said, sniffing one of the tomatoes. “Nice job.”
Jen smiled and certainly agreed. “They’ll be perfect with the avocados. Thanks for picking them up.”
“No problem.” Faith set down a five-gallon bucket full to the brim. “He said good luck, but they’re all going to go bad if he keeps them. Maybe we can give them away to neighbors or something.”
“I’ll take as many as you want to give me,” Carrie said. “Good thing Bethany likes avocados. I don’t have much else to offer.”
Jen tapped her foot against an ice chest that sat next to the door. “I went shopping for you today. I also made a few things you can heat up over the week while you get your bearings.”
“Oh, bless you.” Carrie opened the lid and peeked in. She let out a long whistle at the sight of the bread, casseroles, yogurt, milk and loads of vegetables for salad. “Wow, Jen, thanks. We definitely won’t starve.”
Jen was very happy to help set her friend up. Carrie and Bethany would have enough to worry about besides Carrie’s inability to cook. Hopefully, this would start them out.
“And you can come here for dinner any time you want. You know that.”
“Man, am I lucky,” Carrie said just before the cork gave up its hold on their bottle of wine.
Jen finished putting the bruschetta together, grabbed the platter and followed her friends out onto the deck.
Faith filled them in on her first week at school. “We have the usual crowd,” she said. “After all these years, it seems like they’re blending together a little.”
“What do you mean?” Jen drizzled some of the balsamic reduction onto her bruschetta and glanced in Faith’s direction.
“Well, there’s the class clown. The wriggly kid who won’t sit down, no matter what I do. The smart girl who answers all the questions. The shy kid who sits in the corner and wants his mom. They’re cute, though. And the first week of kindergarten is always about just establishing order so that you can hope to teach them something.”
“I can imagine,” Jen said, passing the platter over to Faith. “I remember when Michael walked into kindergarten. He made a friend, and they started talking, walked inside and never looked back.”
Faith laughed. “It’s just as hard for the parents, you’re right. If the school would let them, they’d have their noses pressed to the windows, I’m sure.”
Carrie filled their wineglasses up again and took a bruschetta. “Bethany was excited to go to school. She’s always liked it. And she liked telling me about what she did all day, too.”
Jen’s eyebrows rose. “Maybe it’s different with girls. When I asked either of the boys how school was, they both said the same thing. ‘Fine.’ Couldn’t get a word out of them unless somebody had brought in a reptile for show-and-tell.”
Carrie laughed. “Maybe girls are different. But Bethany always told me what was going on. I’m looking forward to it.”
Jen and Faith shared a quick glance. “Was Maggy like that?” Jen asked.
“Oh, heck no. She clammed up from the time she was fourteen until she was about sixteen, I think. It was tough. Fortunately, nothing nefarious was going on, but we had our moments.”
Carrie looked out at the waves. “Yeah, I guess all kids are different.”
As excited as Carrie was about this turn of events, it had been a really long time since she’d spent any amount of time with Bethany.
“What if she’s—what if she hates me?”
Jen stopped and turned to Carrie. “That’s not possible.”
“Aw, come on. Anything’s possible. It’s not as if it’s been all chocolate and roses for the past few years. She wouldn’t even agree to see me on her sweet sixteenth, remember?”
“Yes, I remember vividly. The three of us decorated the door of the garage with balloons and a ‘Happy Sweet Sixteen, Bethany’ in the middle of the night. We’re lucky we didn’t set the alarms off.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure exactly how we got away with that. But she never knew it was me, anyway. She thinks I didn’t care.”
“Well, she’ll know different soon enough,” Jen said. “Her room is all ready, and I thought maybe tomorrow the three of us could go shopping for some things to decorate.”
“Darn it. Count me out. I have to work at the shop,” Faith said. “But I’ll be home at night to see what you’ve come up with, and I left my sewing machines here.”
Carrie’s phone buzzed, and her eyebrows rose when she looked at the caller ID. “It’s Rob,” she said, and she stepped inside to take the call.
“You think this is going to be okay?” Faith whispered to Jen when Carrie was inside.
“Sure. I mean, it’ll be a big adjustment for Carrie and Bethany, but I think it’s a great opportunity. And we’re here to help.”
Jen stood as Carrie walked slowly back out onto the deck, her face pale.
“What is it? What happened?” Faith stood and crossed the deck, taking Carrie’s hand.
“She’s not coming. Rob said she changed her mind.”
Twenty-Two
All the air had been sucked out of Friday night happy hour for Carrie after Rob's call. He hadn't said much more than Bethany had changed her mind—not why or any other explanation, but he wasn't happy about it, from what she could tell. Apparently, the producers of the show had decided it was better if Bethany didn't go, that they'd focus more on Rob and Cassidy having a second honeymoon, so now a teenager wasn't welcome.
He'd banked on Carrie's offer to take Bethany and was furious that she was objecting. The whole thing had been crazy-making—at first Rob had been furious that Bethany was not going to Europe. It had given Carrie
a bit of whiplash, but she still would prefer that Bethany was coming to stay.
"Are you going to try to change her mind?" Jen had asked before Carrie headed home.
The thought had crossed Carrie's mind, but she decided against it. "No, I don't think so. I gave it my best shot the first time. I think at this point, I just need to respect her wishes. Don't you?"
Faith nodded. "Yes, I do. I know it's hard, Carrie. We were all looking forward to spending time with her. But I learned with Maggy that one of worst things I could do was not respect her decisions. Or her boundaries, I should say. If she doesn't want to come, that's just the way it is."
Those words had rung in her ears on her walk home. They rang in her ears as she undressed and took a shower. And they rang in her ears once more as she crawled into bed, the stars just beginning to appear in the evening sky.
Banging on her door woke her up. She wasn't sure what time she'd finally fallen asleep, but it couldn't have been that long ago by the way she felt. She got up, threw on her robe and shuffled downstairs, eyeing her coffee maker on the way to the door.
Whoever was banging on the door hadn't let up, and Carrie swung it open. Jen and Daisy stood on her stoop, and Jen carried a paper bag and a to-go cup. Carrie immediately hoped it was coffee, and she managed a smile when Jen held out the cup to her.
"I've been texting you all morning. Did you just get up?”
Carrie nodded, about all she could do until the caffeine hit her veins. She was normally a morning person, but her first order of business was always coffee.
"Thank you. I needed this."
Jen came in and closed the door behind her. "I figured. How are you doing?"
Carrie shrugged. "I have no idea. I've only been awake for a minute. Didn't sleep very well."
"To be expected. I thought maybe it would be good for you to get outside. Daisy and I are walking to Dory's by the pier to get some fish for Sunday dinner tomorrow. Want to go?"
"Uh, I don't know. Not feeling very peppy, to be honest. Faith wouldn't go with you?"
"She had to go to work at the shop. She's really burning the candle at both ends. But no, she couldn't go."
"I don't know. I'm not in a great mood."
Jen opened the bag and set two muffins on a paper towel. "Might this help?" she asked, nudging a muffin in Carrie's direction. "Your favorite. Blueberry."
Carrie ran her hand through her hair. "Those are Bethany's favorite, too."
"Yeah. I know. I made them for her. There are some in the ice chest I packed for you. I can bring it over later. You might as well have something to eat. You left last night without it."
"I'm sorry. I just wasn't—I needed to just come home."
Jen stood when Daisy tugged at her leash, her nose stuck in the crack of the door. "Right. But enough of that. Let's go blow the cobwebs out. A walk'll do you some good. And I haven't been to the fish market in a while. I bet they'll have some different stuff. Hoping they have some yellow tail or red snapper."
"Yum. I'll grill it tomorrow night if they do."
Jen opened the door and smiled. "I was counting on it. Hurry up and get dressed and I'll meet you on the boardwalk. Daisy's got absolutely no patience at all."
Carrie finished her coffee, splashed some water on her face and threw on some clothes. As she passed by Bethany's bedroom—her spare room—she sighed and closed the door on her dreams, not daring to hope that things might get better.
Twenty-Three
Jen had given up trying to get Carrie out of the house for the rest of the weekend. She'd seemed like she was doing all right—Carrie had a unique ability to bounce back from disappointment. She sure had quite a lot of practice, thanks to her mother.
"Need any help?" Faith asked as she came down the narrow stairs from her room. She'd clearly just taken a shower, and even though she should be exhausted, she looked bright and perky. Her dark hair was still damp but fell around her face in the waves that were so pretty on both her and Maggy.
"You look nice," Jen said with a smile.
Faith's eyebrows rose and she looked down at her faded jeans, t-shirt and flip flops. "Wow, you're easy to impress."
Jen laughed and handed Faith a roll of aluminum. "You look happy, maybe I should have said."
"Thanks. I am." Faith eyed the red snapper, the fingerling potatoes and asparagus that Jen had seasoned earlier.
"How many?" Faith asked. They'd cooked together for so many years that she knew exactly what Jen was making—snapper in foil packets on the grill.
"I think eight should be enough. Maggy's not coming up, right?"
"No, not tonight."
"Okay. Then there won't be that many of us. Michael and Amber can't make it either."
"Maybe next weekend," Faith replied. She tore off eight pieces of foil and as Jen added the seasoned fish, some asparagus, potatoes and butter to each packet, she folded them up and set them on a platter.
"When's Carrie going to be here?" Faith said when they were finished.
"Any minute, I think. I tried to get her to go walking again today while you were at the shop, but she didn't want to. She wasn't too bad, though. Didn't want to talk about anything. I tried."
Faith shook her head. "I don't know how she does it. I guess years of experience with her mom and—well, just life. She handles disappointment better than anybody I know."
Jen handed Faith a corkscrew and gestured to the refrigerator, where she'd chilled the chardonnay for dinner.
Faith narrowed her eyes as she opened the bottle of wine. “Her mom is really awful. Why is she like that? Why has she always been like that?"
"I've wondered myself. Carrie's so—I don't know. She's so nice. A great dentist. Never been in real trouble. She was an easy kid, mostly. I mean, we did minor stuff when we were kids but nothing big. But her mom really wasn't around much. She was always at a party or fundraiser with her dad."
"Maybe some moms just are a little distant. I have a co-worker whose mom is always finding stuff wrong with her, too. She says she just chalks it up to that's the kind of mom she got."
Jen took the glass of wine Faith held out and nodded. "Maybe some moms are just a little self-absorbed. I don't know. But I can't imagine doing to my kids what Mrs. Westland does to Carrie. I just can't."
Faith picked up the bowl of guacamole Jen had made earlier and followed her friend out onto the deck. "Neither can I. I mean, a lot of moms aren't all that close with their kids, but it's something else completely to sabotage them, over and over."
"Agreed. And unfortunately, we may never know."
Jen set the bowl of chips on the table outside and settled into one of the deck chairs. "Ah, what a nice evening."
"It sure is," Carrie said as she came through the deck, giving Daisy a pat and setting the bottle of wine she'd brought on the table.
Faith handed her a glass of wine and found her favorite deck chair. "How are you doing?" she asked Carrie.
Carrie took a sip of her wine and smiled. "Lovely weather we're having."
Jen rolled her eyes. "Oh, it's going to be one of those nights, eh?"
Carrie laughed. "I'm all talked out. I'm thought out. I'm just moving on."
Jen sighed. She could tell Carrie had reached her limit, and she respected that. There really wasn't that much to say anymore.
"How's it going with the clothes for the fashion show? Found anything cool?" Faith asked, willing to change the subject also.
"Oh, let me show you one of the things I found. It's so weird—Nana was a pretty practical dresser, as far as I knew. But she sure had a different life before I came along. Seems like these fancy dresses from the fifties were pretty expensive, too."
She rushed into the house and grabbed the dress she'd found earlier.
"Check this out," she said as she held it in front of her.
Faith whistled and stood, unable to resist running her fingers over the satin skirt that poofed out at the bottom with what must have been a crinoline layer und
erneath.
"Wow. And look at that beading. It's gorgeous."
The dress had a scoop neck with small capped sleeves that fell off the shoulder. The bodice was beaded with thousands of black sparkles. It cinched tight at the waist and in the front rested a satin bow.
"Gosh. That looks like something that would be in a movie, not in your Nana's closet."
Jen nodded. "I thought the same thing. Who knew she had so many fancy things. And there's a clutch to match."
"Maybe Mrs. Russo or Mrs. Grover remember where she might have worn something like that. They've been around forever, too."
"Well, I wouldn't say forever," Mrs. Grover said as she leaned over the fence between the two houses. She laughed and nodded. "I remember that dress, though."
"You do? Well, come on over and tell us about it."
Mrs. Grover did just that. She explained that long ago, when Newport was still growing, there were all kinds of celebrity events and grand openings. There weren't as many people, so most of the locals knew each other.
"Your grandmother used to love to go to those things. And she was so lovely, inside and out, that she got lots of invitations. I think she wore that one to the grand opening of Fashion Island. It was quite an event."
"Wow," Jen said. "When was that?"
"I think around '67, but don't quote me."
"How fun that was, I bet." Jen twirled around, and the dress spun perfectly.
"Not if you ask me," Carrie said. "My mom used to drag me to all of those things when I was little. They were awful."
"Maybe for a kid, but I don't know. The fundraiser was fun. We don't do that kind of stuff very often."
"Yes, and with good reason. My mom gave up even inviting me years ago," Carrie said.
Jen and Faith exchanged a quick glance, and Jen thought maybe that was why it was so odd with Carrie and her mother. They really were like night and day.
Just as Carrie said, "I'd better light the barbecue," her phone buzzed in her pocket.
"Good grief," she said before she walked out onto the sidewalk to answer. She couldn't have been on the phone more than a minute before she hung up, closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.
Newport Beginnings Page 9
