“Back already, Dean?” she said, not turning around. “Just a sec, I’m talking to the administrator at the camp.” She was dressed in a pale blue bathrobe and held a pen she jiggled nervously against the desktop.
“It’s not Dean.” Marnie’s voice rose in pitch. “It’s me—Marnie.”
Kimberly sat up abruptly and turned around. “Just a minute,” she said to the person on the phone. “Marnie’s here now. She’ll be there to get Troy this morning.” She gestured to Marnie to sit down, and she wrapped up the conversation, thanking the person on the other end and apologizing for the inconvenience.
She hung up and gave Marnie a relieved grin, then jumped up and hugged her. “Marnie, it’s so nice to see you again. I can’t tell you how happy I am you’re here,” she said, and then looked up at Laverne, who stood tentatively in the doorway. “Hello there.”
“Who’s Dean?” Laverne asked.
“This is Laverne,” Marnie said, by way of introduction. “She’s with me.”
“Oh yes, you’re Marnie’s stepmom. We spoke on the phone. Good to meet you.” Kimberly got up to shake Laverne’s hand, then self-consciously rearranged the ties on her robe. “You’ll forgive my appearance. You came earlier than I expected. Not that I mind,” she said hastily. “My biggest fear was that you wouldn’t come at all. That would have been a disaster. The last few days have been so hectic, I can’t even tell you. Dean—that’s my assistant—got here at the crack of dawn to take the dogs to the sitter, and I’ve been going nonstop. Every time I cross something off the list I wind up adding something else, so it never gets any shorter.” She patted her hair and laughed. “Sorry I’m such a mess.” It was not true. Although her hair was mussed and she wore no makeup, no one would deny she was still a stunning woman. She had the fine features and glowing skin that Marnie, for some reason, associated with French women, and she was enviably slender without being too skinny. Her thick blonde hair lay on her shoulders in what looked like natural waves. Doing a mental inventory, Marnie couldn’t find anything to criticize. Kimberly’s perfectly formed ears lay close to her head, and her teeth were even and pearly white, without looking fake like veneers. The woman was freaking perfect. The only thing that kept Marnie from hating her was that the resemblance to Troy was uncanny. She’d never noticed it in photographs, but in person it was undeniable. There were traces of Troy in Kimberly’s posture, her eyes, her smile, even the way she fidgeted with her pen.
“Have you ladies had breakfast yet?” Kimberly asked. “I was just about to grab a bite.”
She didn’t wait for an answer but got up and led them to the kitchen. Every bit of the house was spacious and filled with light. Marnie wondered where Kimberly kept the clutter. Why were there no shoes by the door, no piles of mail set aside? She and Laverne followed obediently, while Kimberly chatted on about her upcoming trip to London and how the camp called the night before saying Troy had a fever. “Only ninety-nine point eight, which doesn’t sound very high, does it? They said they just wanted to keep me apprised, and I’m fine with that, even though I thought it was a little unnecessary. The next thing I know, they’re calling saying his temp is a hundred and one, and I have to come pick him up. Their rule, the director said, is anything over one hundred degrees. A despicable woman. Completely without reason. Like talking to a three-year-old. She just kept repeating how this was their policy. Anything over one hundred degrees.” Kimberly made finger quotes around the number. “One hundred exactly. How arbitrary is that? And this was at ten o’clock at night, if you can imagine that! I insisted on talking to Troy, and he sounded fine. I explained about my trip, but they didn’t care.” She sighed heavily and led them into the kitchen of Marnie’s dreams: gleaming granite countertops, plenty of cabinet space, and double everything—dual ovens, two stovetops, two dishwashers, and an extra-wide refrigerator. The adjacent breakfast nook held a table for six adorned by a clear vase filled with towering white calla lilies. A doorway on the other side revealed a linen-draped table topped with crimson candles.
“Nice kitchen,” Laverne said. The understatement of the year.
“Thanks.” Kimberly leaned over the countertop and inspected the coffeemaker. “I didn’t know what I was going to do, and then Troy kept asking for you…” She peered intently at the buttons. “The housekeeper has this set on a timer, but there has to be a way to override that.”
“Here,” Marnie said, leaning around her and pushing a button. A light went on and the unit made a small hissing noise.
Kimberly reared back and regarded her with admiration. “Well played, Marnie.” She patted her arm approvingly. “That was brilliant. Just brilliant.” She gestured to them to sit, then went to a cabinet and pulled out three coffee mugs. “I called the camp director back. Her name is Helga. The name says it all I think. They won’t even give him Tylenol or aspirin. It’s against their policy.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “I told her I wouldn’t be able to pick him up, but that his aunt Marnie would be coming in the morning for him. At first she said she wouldn’t release him to anyone but me, and she still kept on and on about how I had to come right away, but when I mentioned my attorney she changed her tune and said as long as it was within twenty-four hours and that you were a relative, it would be fine.” She rested her elbows on the table and tapped her chin. “That’s why I said you were his aunt. On his father’s side. We have to make sure we get our stories straight.” She looked back at the counter. “I can’t believe it takes this long to brew a pot of coffee. Do you think something is wrong with the machine?”
They all glanced back at the coffeemaker where a steady stream of dark fluid filled the glass carafe. “Nah, it looks like it’s working to me,” Laverne said. “You just got to be patient.”
“I’m not good at patient.” Kimberly drummed her fingertips on the tabletop. “I’m better at doing than waiting. I suppose you’ve heard that.” She looked questioningly at Marnie, who didn’t know what to say. “I’m sure Brian told you how I fell short in the wife and mother department.” The air in the room had somehow gotten thicker. Kimberly’s fingers stopped their tapping. “You probably heard the story of how I abandoned my son and moved across the country without any warning at all, but that’s not completely true. Yes, I did move and I wasn’t as involved in Troy’s life as I should have been, but you haven’t heard my side of the story. I’m not a terrible person.”
There was a sharp-edged silence. Marnie finally said, “Brian never said anything bad about you.” Which was true. Of course, when they first met, Brian said his wife had abandoned him, but after that he didn’t talk about her much at all except in an admiring way. Of course, Marnie had her own opinion of Kimberly. What kind of mother would opt to live so far away from her child? In her opinion, nothing would excuse it.
“Well,” Kimberly said, “that’s hard to believe. But good, I guess. I’ll take it.”
“Look, the coffee’s done.” Laverne gathered their mugs and went to the coffeemaker, which was still dripping but clearly at the end of the brewing cycle, and set to work filling their cups.
“I moved here because of a business opportunity. The plan was that Brian was going to sell the house and join me. I left Troy with him because I travel so much and I wanted to wait until I was settled in. But somewhere along the line Brian changed the plan and forgot to tell me. He didn’t sell the house, and he had no intention of moving, I guess.” She took a mug of coffee out of Laverne’s hand. “Thank you. That smells good.” She set it down in front of her. “The next thing I know, the neighbor calls me and says he’s dating someone and she’s at the house all the time with Troy. I was crushed.”
Shocked, Marnie felt her breath freeze in her chest. How could it be that she’d been the other woman?
Kimberly got up to get a container of creamer and three spoons and set them on the table. “Does anyone need sugar? No? Okay.”
Marnie didn’t know where to begin. “I had no idea,” she said apologetically. “He
said his wife abandoned them. I didn’t have any reason to think otherwise…”
“I know,” Kimberly said, sliding back in her chair. “I know. And here’s something else. I asked Brian about it and he said you were the babysitter. And after you moved in, he told me he’d hired a live-in housekeeper. The fact that he wanted a divorce around the same time was entirely coincidental,” she added dryly.
“The housekeeper?” Marnie felt her ears burning. “That’s what he told you?”
“Your husband told you his live-in girlfriend was the housekeeper and you fell for that?” Laverne said, taking a thin sip of coffee.
Marnie shot her a warning look, afraid that Laverne’s habit of saying whatever flew into her head might put them at odds with Kimberly. Just be nice, she thought. Quiet and nice.
“I know, not very perceptive on my part.” Kimberly shrugged. “But Brian could be very persuasive. I did wonder at one point, a few years ago, but when I asked Troy about you, he said you and Brian slept in separate bedrooms.”
“It didn’t start out that way,” Marnie said. “The separate bedrooms, I mean. We started out having a relationship, and then…it just sort of unraveled to nothing.” She couldn’t think of anything that would back up her version of events. Did the fact that she kept track of Brian’s checkbook and wrote out the bills give her a higher status? Did her role as Troy’s Marnie make her less of a housekeeper? Looking back, she wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t the housekeeper. Although if that were the case, she got shortchanged in the money department. Instead, she was compensated by the idea she was part of a family. But even that proved to be false. “I didn’t know you were married, though. I mean, I knew, but I thought you’d left him.”
“I believe you,” Kimberly said. “You were like me—you believed what you were told.”
Marnie nodded. She and Kimberly had been pitted against each other, never knowing the truth about the other woman. It was Brian’s fault, although she wasn’t entirely sure it was conscious on his part. He probably felt abandoned, and Marnie filled the void. After that all of them fell into ruts of circumstance. Superficiality was the best he could do. His whole family was like that. She’d met all of his relatives at weddings and funerals over the years. They were all good with the backslapping and joke-telling, but there was never anything resembling in-depth conversation.
“I only bring this up,” Kimberly said, picking up her mug, “because I realize that I froze you out of the funeral. Until Troy set me straight last week, I was still thinking you were the housekeeper.” She took a sip of coffee. “Also I wanted to thank you for taking care of Troy for me. You were a good substitute mom.”
Marnie found herself choking back indignation. “I didn’t do it for you,” she said, but before she could say any more Laverne jumped in.
“Marnie was a very good mom to Troy,” she said with conviction. Someone who didn’t know better would have thought she’d witnessed it firsthand. “She’s really missed him a lot since he’s been here. It’s been killing her.”
“I had no idea how much work a teenager can be,” Kimberly continued, as if she hadn’t even heard them. “I figured he’s grown. He doesn’t need a babysitter. It’s summertime so there’s no school. He can get his own food. I know I work long hours, but the housekeeper is here. When he said he was bored, I told him I could sign him up for some activities. I even had my assistant look into some different possibilities, but Troy wouldn’t have any of it. At his age I would have loved the opportunity to be bored. He has the whole house, the pool, a computer, TV, movies, video games. But none of it makes him happy. He won’t go and call on any of the neighborhood kids. I’m about ready to pull my hair out. I don’t have time to entertain him.”
“Your trip is for six weeks?” Marnie asked.
“Six weeks, yes. I do this every year. I go to a conference for a week and from there I travel and meet with all my suppliers and vendors. It’s nonstop and grueling but essential for my business. When I found this camp I thought I’d be covered, at least for the summer, and I signed him up for six weeks. My thinking was that it would keep him out of trouble, and maybe he’d make some friends. But his getting sick threw a wrench in the works. All my careful planning for nothing.” She threw up her hands. “I’m telling you, my dogs are less trouble.”
“Well, yeah,” Laverne piped in, her hands clasped under her chin. “But they’re dogs.”
“I have an idea,” Marnie said. “Why don’t you let me take him back to Wisconsin for the six weeks you’re gone? I have the summer off, so I can keep an eye on him.”
Kimberly tapped on the tabletop with long manicured nails. “Well, I hate to impose on you, but if you wouldn’t mind?” She raised one eyebrow.
“It wouldn’t be an imposition,” Marnie said firmly. “I’d like nothing better.”
Kimberly exhaled. “Well, if you don’t mind, that would be wonderful. I can compensate you for the expenses he incurs while he’s with you.”
“Oh no, that’s not necessary,” Marnie said. “I want to spend time with him. I’ve really missed him. He can see his relatives on his dad’s side and hang out with his friends. It’ll all be good.”
“Marnie, you are a lifesaver.” Kimberly glanced up at the clock and pushed the coffee mug aside. “I know this seems abrupt, and I don’t want to be rude, but I have a plane to catch later today, and I’m not even halfway ready. I’ll give you the paperwork and the directions to the camp. We can work out the other details later on. Will you call me when you get there so I know you have Troy safe and sound?”
Chapter Forty-Four
As they drove through the gates of Camp Future Leaders of America, Marnie muttered, “I can’t believe Brian told people I was his housekeeper. It’s just unbelievable.”
“It’s not unbelievable. You can believe it ’cause it happened,” Laverne said, in a tone that indicated she was tired of hearing about it. “But it’s over and done with. Time to move on.”
“I know it’s over, but I’m finding it hard to move on,” Marnie said, turning to follow a wooden sign marked “Camp Office.” “I feel like a fool.”
“Why should you feel like a fool? You didn’t do anything wrong! Not only that, but you’re the one that’s still alive. Seems to me you got the last laugh.”
Marnie didn’t say anything to that, just continued down the gravel drive to their destination. The administration building was a large structure reminiscent of military barracks.
When they got out of the car, Laverne surveyed the landscape and said, “Kind of pretty, in a tumbleweed sort of way.” They didn’t see any tumbleweeds, though. What they saw was dirt and plenty of it. The sporadic patchy groundcover looked like it was fighting to stay alive in the midday heat. An enormous brown mound on the horizon was their version of a mountain, Marnie guessed. What a contrast to summer camp in lake-covered Wisconsin. If they could export shade from the Midwest to this part of Nevada, they’d make a fortune. Laverne wiped her forehead. “They sure do keep the heat up in this part of the country.”
Stepping inside the building, they were relieved to encounter air-conditioning. Oddly, the inside looked much bigger than she’d expected. A long Formica countertop served as a desk for two women, one of whom was on the phone. The other one, a young woman with a curly ponytail, got up to greet them. Her mint-colored polo shirt had the camp name and logo embroidered on one side. She looked as young and chipper as a college cheerleader. When Marnie identified herself, the woman shook her hand hard. “I’m Helga,” she said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
She studied Kimberly’s letter and compared Marnie to the photo on her driver’s license, then made several copies of each before returning the license to her. “We have to cover ourselves, legally,” she said apologetically.
“Can I see Troy?” Marnie said, trying not to sound too impatient. A frantic feeling rose from her abdomen and she felt like she might crawl out of her skin if they didn’t produce him soon. She wa
s ready to fight off anyone who would stand in her way. Luckily, that wasn’t necessary.
“Of course. He’s in the infirmary,” Helga said, and led them down a hallway to a windowless room in back. The door was open, and Marnie saw an older woman sitting at a desk opposite two cots, one of which was occupied. A boy lay on his side, a fleece blanket up past his chin. His eyes were closed, but Marnie instantly knew it was Troy. She moved past Helga, who was now talking to the woman about getting Troy’s things ready since he’d be leaving soon. Laverne hovered in the doorway uncertainly, but Marnie didn’t care. Troy was here. He was right here.
She stooped down next to him. She reached over and brushed his hair away from his face, like she’d done a thousand times before. His skin felt overly warm and his cheeks were flushed. She knew the camp couldn’t give him medication, but did anyone even consider a damp washcloth on his forehead? “Troy?” she said quietly.
His eyelids fluttered and then opened. A sleepy grin crossed his face. “Hey, Marnie,” he said. The way he said it could have been any school-day morning at home, back before Brian died.
“Hey, Troy,” she said, resting her cool hand on his forehead, wishing she could absorb some of the fever for him. “I heard you’re not feeling so good.”
“I’m sick. I feel terrible.”
“I know, honey. I heard.”
His eyes closed again. “I knew you’d come.”
Marnie stroked his head. “Yes.”
“Why did it take so long for you to get here?” he asked.
Marnie glanced up at Laverne, who was wiping her eyes. She said to Troy, “I came as soon as I could.”
“I was waiting,” he said, his voice sounding as tired as Marnie felt. She was tired but really couldn’t complain. It was a good tired. This moment was worth the effort she’d made to get here—all the hours in the car, getting attacked at the rest stop, the hospital visit, and even having to share a room with Laverne. She’d do it all over again if she had to.
The Long Way Home Page 22
