"What?" Jen asked, leaning against the deck railing.
Carrie sighed. "Apparently, there's been a change of plans again. Rob's waiting at my house. With Bethany. And her luggage."
Jen stood and glanced at Faith. "You want me to go with you?"
"No. I'm good," Carrie said. "Sorry about the barbecue."
Jen shook her head. "No problem. Just go, and call me later."
Carrie nodded started home, walking faster than Jen had seen her do in a long time.
Mrs. Grover twisted her fingers as all three watched Carrie round the corner. "I certainly hope everything's all right. Carrie's such a dear."
Jen nodded. "She's been through enough lately. She doesn't need any more trouble."
Twenty-Four
If Carrie thought she had whiplash the other day, she was pretty positive she did now. She couldn't keep up with all this, and she wondered what had caused the current change of events as she walked home as fast as she could, even jogging a little.
She rounded the corner to her house and stopped in her tracks. A black limo sat outside her front door, and Rob and Bethany stood on the sidewalk. He yelled as he shook his finger at her, and she stood as far away from him as she could, her arms folded.
Bethany's frown was more confirmation for Carrie that this was not a good thing. At least not something that was going well. It didn't look at all like Bethany had changed her mind or was there willingly. That was not something Carrie had anticipated, even for one second.
"Hi," she said as she approached, and both Bethany and Rob stopped talking and looked at the ground.
"Hi," Rob said, taking a searing glance at Bethany. "I hope your offer still stands. We've got to get to the airport, and Bethany has decided she'd be thrilled to stay with you. Haven't you, Bethany?"
Bethany glanced up at her father, and Carrie thought if looks could kill, he'd be dead by now.
"Right," she said and looked back down at her shoes.
"Where should I put these bags, sir?" the limo driver asked.
"Um, I guess right inside the door," Carrie said with a shrug. "Bethany, why don't you go wait inside. The door's open. I want to talk to your dad for a minute."
Bethany grabbed her tennis rackets and slung them over her shoulder. She turned so fast that her ponytail flittered across Rob's face and he glared after her. "Thanks. Goodbye to you, too. Yes, we'll have a wonderful time. Thank you."
Bethany slammed the door and Carrie blinked after her a few times before turning to Rob.
"What's that all about? She doesn't seem thrilled to me. Not by a long shot."
"Sure she is. She just needs to adjust," Rob said, still looking at the front door.
Carrie didn't believe him for one second, but she didn't quite know what to do. "I'm not sure she should stay here if she doesn't want to. Things are strained enough."
The tinted window in the back of the limo rolled down, and Cassidy poked her white-blonde head out.
"Hurry up, honey. We need to get going. We're going to be late for our flight."
Carrie summoned every ounce of manners she could and said, "Hello, Cassidy. I hope you have a nice trip."
Cassidy looked up, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun, and seemed to notice Carrie for the first time.
"Oh, hello. Thank you. I'm sure it will be lovely. A second honeymoon, after all," she said, her blue eyes cold. She flipped her hair and poured herself a glass of champagne, then gave Carrie a nod and a very fake smile, rolling the window back up again.
"I have to go. She won't be a problem. She's mostly at school and tennis, and then tournaments on the weekend. Armand, here, will take care of transportation." He gestured at the tall man standing at the back of the limo, and he gave Carrie a nod and a more sincere smile than Cassidy had. "Just feed her and keep her alive, if you can. I don't expect any more than that."
Carrie couldn't for the life of her understand why he'd put up such fuss about keeping Bethany with him if this was how he treated her. It made her blood boil, and if she could have slapped him without making a scene, she would have.
Cassidy rolled down the window again and glared at Rob. "If we miss this flight, I will never forgive you," she said with a big pout on her face. She sounded just like she did on the one TV episode Carrie had been able to stomach, and Rob was equally gross.
"I'm sorry, kitten. I'm coming." He turned to Carrie and held out a fat envelope. "This should take care of everything else," he said.
"I don't want that," she said, holding her palms out toward him. "I don't need it." She hadn't expected him to give her a wad of cash, and that wouldn't have made her feel very good about being with her daughter. It felt more like a babysitter, and she'd been looking forward to just spending time with Bethany, not making any money.
"Suit yourself," he said, stuffing the envelope in the inside pocket of his suit and crossing to the other side of the limo.
Armand nodded at Carrie again and opened the door for Rob, and he slid in beside Cassidy. She handed him a glass of champagne and turned back to Carrie one last time with what could only be described as a smirk on her face. "Thanks for the vacation from that," she said, jutting her chin toward the front door. "It'll be nice to have a break. And good luck."
The window rolled up again and all Carrie could see was black as it pulled away and turned onto Newport Boulevard.
She stood on the sidewalk for a minute or two, grappling with the obvious—that things weren't exactly as she'd thought they were in Bethany's world. She turned toward the door, knowing that she needed to find out more and hoping she could help.
Twenty-Five
Bethany sat on the couch, her phone in her hand.
"So, I'm pretty sure that the story your dad gave isn't the real one, is it?" Carrie asked, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees.
Bethany didn't bother to look up from her phone when she answered.
"If you want to know the truth, I really didn't want to come here. I haven't talked to you for years. I don't really know you. Kind of awkward, don't you think?"
Carrie suddenly realized that she might have been a little naive to think that it would all be hunky-dory if Bethany were to stay. She'd been so wrapped up in her excitement that she'd barely paid attention when people said, "Be careful what you wish for." But just because Bethany wanted to be somewhere else didn't mean that they couldn't get along or give it a good try, at least.
"Actually, I was hoping we could use this opportunity to get to know each other again."
"Look, I just need a place to crash for a month. I appreciate you letting me do it here. I won't even be here very much, so I'll try not to bother you. I know it's annoying to have kids around.”
She stood and rolled her suitcases to the bottom of the stairs and grabbed her tennis rackets.
This wasn't going particularly well, Carrie thought, but she was pretty sure that she shouldn't push the envelope. She'd never once said kids were annoying to have around—that sounded more like something her own mother would say. But not her.
"I'm very happy to have you here," she said. "Very."
"Great," Bethany said, looking up the staircase. "Can you tell me where to crash? I have homework I have to do for tomorrow."
Carrie stood and grabbed one of the suitcases. "Sure, follow me."
She set Bethany's suitcase on the bed and opened the sliding glass door to the small balcony. "I hope it's okay. You've got your own bathroom, through there. Sorry it's not decorated more. I never got around to it. We could paint it if you like. You can pick the colors."
Bethany shrugged, then put her other suitcase on the bed. "Nah. I'm not going to be here that long."
Carrie fiddled with the hem of her shirt and looked around the room. It really was just white. She'd meant to get those pillows from Faith but hadn't when she thought Bethany wasn't coming.
"Okay. The dresser is empty," she said, pointing to the antique walnut dresser on the other side of the room. There wa
s also a matching vanity—both antiques that Carrie had had when she was a little girl. "Feel free to make yourself at home.
Bethany looked around the room for a minute. She took the suitcases, set them against the wall on the floor and unzipped them. "I won't need that. Like I said, I won't be here very long."
Carrie found herself blinking several times, her eyebrows raised. She didn't quite know what to say and decided not to push.
"Suit yourself. You hungry? I can make you something to eat."
"You can?" Bethany asked. "If I remember correctly, you don't know how to cook."
Carrie thought she may as well laugh about that because it was true, and she did. "Yes, well, some things haven't changed. Jen loaded up the fridge for us when I thought you were coming. But I do know how to get takeout."
"Right," Bethany said as she hung up what looked like tennis outfits in the closet.
She opened her backpack and plopped some big textbooks on the bed.
"Would you prefer to study downstairs? I didn't think to put a desk in here."
Bethany shook her head. "No, thanks. I'm good. I do need to get this done, though."
"Oh, right. Okay. Well, help yourself to anything at all. I guess I don't need to take you to school? I thought I would be doing that."
"No, Armand's got it. It's covered."
Carrie nodded. "Okay. I put shampoo, soap, a razor and other stuff in the bathroom for you. Fresh towels, too. Do you need me to wake you up for school?" Carrie had very fond memories of waking Bethany up when she was little, usually with a "Rise and shine!"
Bethany looked at Carrie like she'd just said the dumbest thing ever known to man. "I'm sixteen. No, I don't need you to wake me up for school."
"Okay. Got it. Well, let me know if you need anything."
Bethany was already flipping through the pages of her biology book, pencil in hand. "Sure. Thanks. And can you close the door on your way out?"
Twenty-Six
Carrie closed her bedroom door behind her and dialed Jen.
"I've been dying to hear what's going on," Jen said when she picked up.
"Not much," Carrie responded. She put her phone on speaker and set it down in the bathroom, changing into her comfy clothes—sweats and a t-shirt—while she was talking.
"Rob dropped her off in a limo. She's in her room doing homework. Doesn't want dinner. End of story."
"What do you mean, end of story? Did she change her mind again and decide to stay with you?"
Carrie smoothed some moisturizer over her face and reached for a headband to tie her hair back.
"Sort of. Well, not really, I guess. I think there was nowhere else for her to stay. Pretty sure he forced her."
She picked up the phone again and took it off speaker, sliding her feet into her comfy slippers.
"Oh. So she's there as an unwilling guest."
"Pretty much," Carrie said, plopping down onto her bed.
"Is she being rude?"
Carrie shook her head, even though Jen couldn't see her. "No, not really. She said thanks. She just doesn't want to have much to do with me. And doesn't want to eat. Said she has homework and asked me to close the door."
Jen paused for a moment. "Well, I'm sure she does have homework. Try not to take it personally."
"I'm trying. But I think she should eat something, don't you?"
"I know she's got a little bit of history not wanting to eat, but she looks healthy, right? Just pay attention. Set something out for her. Maybe one of the muffins or something. My experience with teenagers is that they'll eat when they're hungry."
"Yeah, but you had boys. They'll eat no matter what."
Jen laughed. "True. But don't have your pain in advance. Just pay attention. It could be nothing. This is a big change for her, too. You going to take her to school in the morning?"
Carrie headed out into the kitchen and looked in the fridge. She'd missed dinner, too.
"No. Can you believe they've got a limo taking her, to and from? Jeez."
"Oh, wow."
"I'm sure Cassidy likes the attention, even once removed. I would hate that, but Bethany didn't seem to mind."
"She doesn't have her driver's license? I'm surprised he hasn't bought her a car like all the other rich parents."
Carrie chuckled. "I guess not. Remember that old Volkswagen my dad got me when I turned sixteen so I could drive to school? That old beat-up one that he had painted orange?"
Carrie could picture Jen snickering on the other end.
"Yep. But hey, we had lots of fun in that old bug. Took it to Mexico more than once for shrimp and lobster."
"Right. I don't know that I'd do that in a limo."
"No. Well, you sound all right."
Carrie pulled some of Jen's lasagna out of the fridge. "I am. And thanks for the food. At least if she starves, it'll have been her choice, not my inability to cook."
"You're welcome. I also put in a bag of granola bars. She can take some to school if she wants, but I bet she buys lunch there."
"Probably," Carrie said as she put the plate of lasagna she'd cut into the microwave. "Sorry I had to leave before the barbecue. And that I couldn't grill the snapper."
"No problem at all. Turns out Mrs. Grover is a pretty good backup for you. I saved you some. I'll put it in your fridge tomorrow while you're at work."
Carrie thanked her friend and signed off, but not before saying, "Tell Faith I'm sorry I didn't get to see her much, and have a good week at work. Everything good with her?"
Jen paused for a moment. "She's okay. She's got a lot going on, but she likes working at the shop. She said the owner gave her a key and won't be there next weekend. Kind of weird, but Faith's excited."
"Oh, good," Carrie said. "Talk to you tomorrow."
"Okay. And Carrie, try not to worry. It's going to be fine. It's only a month anyway. It'll fly by."
Not for the first time, she wondered what she'd do without her friends—she'd be a mess.
She heated up the lasagna and her stomach grumbled. The garlic bread Jen sent smelled fantastic, and she set a piece of it on her plate. Just as she sat at the kitchen island, she heard Bethany's bedroom door open and her feet pad down the stairs.
"Hi," she said as she leaned against the kitchen island. "I guess I am hungry, and that smells good. Jen's lasagna? I haven't had that in a long time."
Carrie smiled and nudged the plate toward Bethany.
"Yep. Help yourself."
Bethany shifted from one foot to the other, and looked from the lasagna to Carrie and back. "Thanks. Mind if I take it up in my room? I'm still doing homework."
Carrie wished that she would sit down at the island and talk to her a bit more, but at least she wanted to eat. That was probably all she could hope for at the moment, so she nodded and handed her a napkin.
"There's milk in the fridge and some other drinks. Help yourself."
Bethany nodded, and pulled a juice box out of the refrigerator. She smiled at Carrie—well, it wasn't really a smile, but it wasn't a frown, either—and headed upstairs with her dinner.
Carrie leaned on the island, her chin resting on her hand. It wasn't exactly the family reunion she'd hoped for, but at least she didn't have to worry about Bethany being anorexic. She could cross that off her list. Now, all she had to worry about were the thousand other things that could go wrong.
Twenty-Seven
Friday night happy hour came quickly, and Jen had invited Mrs. Russo and Mrs. Grover tonight. Joe was working, piloting gondolas as someone had called out sick, and Faith had just arrived. When Mrs. Russo, Mrs. Grover and Carrie got there, they headed in to look at all the fantastic things Jen had found during the week.
Mrs. Russo laughed with gusto when she held up the beautiful little black dress of Nana's and looked at herself in the mirror.
"I think only my right side would fit in this. I'd need another entire dress for my left side.”
"Oh, that's not true," Mrs. Grover said, and
Jen, Carrie and Faith all looked at her since it may have been a little true. Mrs. Russo wasn't especially big—the dress was especially small.
Mrs. Grover blushed. "Well, maybe not two whole dresses," she said, trying to backpedal best she could. "It's a tiny dress. It wouldn't fit any of us."
Mrs. Russo set the dress back down on the bed in one of Jen's guest rooms. "Right. But a lot of this other stuff would fit all of us." She stole a peek out of the corner of her eye at Carrie and Faith. "Don't you think?" Jen picked up a pink cotton gingham sleeveless blouse with buttons up the back. "This is cute."
"And it would look great on you," Mrs. Russo said, her eyebrows wiggling. “Maybe with some white capris?”
"I'm sure all of these things would look great on the models," Jen said as she separated the scarves from the dresses and the pants. "These slim pants you all wore were so flattering. Kind of like capris, but so much cuter. Right at the ankle."
"I'm not sure about those. Some of this stuff looks weird to me," Carrie said, holding up a black sequined sweater.
Faith and Jen laughed out loud. "Good thing you're not in charge of this fundraiser. With your fashion sense, it's a blessing for all of us."
"What?" Carrie said, looking down at her white dress with aqua, orange and yellow flowers on it. Her matching yellow sandals—well, at least they matched.
"Some of this stuff is so cute, I'd wear it now," Faith said. "So how does this work? Are you going to sell the clothes?"
"The way it was explained to me is that ladies will model the clothes, people bid on them and the proceeds go to the village—in this case, their bridge club. All the money made in the bridge club goes to the local Boys’ and Girls' Club."
Mrs. Grover pulled a face. "That was your Nana's favorite bridge club. I never went because they were a little—well, you know. Racy."
Carrie frowned. "How can a bridge club be racy?"
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