by Jane Green
Robert stays in that safe haven, for a very long time, until finally he walks out and goes to find Kit, still unaware she is a few feet away, to ask her to tell everyone the party is over.
Kit walks out, eventually, when the coast is clear, on legs like jelly. She cannot believe everything she has heard, but of course it all makes sense. Tracy distancing herself from everyone because of the fear of being discovered. Steve’s pursuit of Kit that never felt entirely genuine. She shudders with horror thinking about him. How could she have been so stupid?
And what is she supposed to do now?
The doorbell rings early the next morning, and Kit drags herself out of bed and down the stairs. She isn’t expecting anyone, but through the sidelights she sees her mother, dressed down in a cashmere sweatsuit, the omnipresent diamonds sparkling in the morning sunlight, with two Starbucks’ cardboard cups in hand.
“Mother.” Kit feels heavy, the exhaustion hitting her, the emotions of the last few weeks just too much for her to bear. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried about you. I watched you last night and you seemed like someone who has a very heavy cross to bear. I may not have been the perfect mother in the past, but I’m here now, and I want to help. Here”—she extends an arm—“I have no idea what you drink so I brought you a Mocha Frappuccino. I think that’s what it’s called. I really don’t understand those drinks at all.”
Kit takes the drink and thanks her, standing aside to let her mother in, and somehow, although she is trying to be resolute, her mother’s kindness is too much for her; it is so unexpected, so needed right now, that Kit sits down to find the floodgates opening, and she tells her mother everything.
“Can I make a phone call?” Ginny says, when all is done.
“Who are you calling?”
“Peter. I want him to hear this.”
Two hours later, Peter, a man whom Kit instantly trusts, looks Kit in the eyes, leans forward and asks: “Do you believe Tracy?”
Kit sighs. “I do. I know she’s been peculiar as hell lately, but I do. I wish I didn’t, but I don’t believe anyone could have talked the way she did if they were lying. There was something about her voice. It wasn’t emotional, just completely flat, and I believe her.”
“And what about her love for Robert? Do you think that she sees Robert as a means to escape, or do you think she really does love him?”
Kit shrugs. “I’m not an expert, but I think she does. I really do. I’m not sure she intended that to happen, but she’s telling the truth. I would put my life on it.”
“Do you think she would talk to you if you reached out to her?”
“I have no idea. Things have been so difficult between us recently, although at least now I know the reason why.”
“I think you need to talk to her,” Peter says. “I’m willing to talk to Robert, as an old friend, but I have to be sure I am doing the right thing, and for that, I need your help.”
Kit, apprehensive but determined, walks slowly into the yoga center.
“Hi,” she says to Olivia, the girl on the desk. “Is Tracy around?”
“She’s in her office.” Olivia gestures upstairs. “I don’t think she’s feeling well, though. She doesn’t want to see anyone.”
“I’ll be quick,” Kit says, knowing that Tracy is avoiding everyone, for she has left three messages, and none has been returned.
She knocks gently on the closed door, which in itself is unusual, and, hearing no answer, she pushes it open slightly.
Tracy is sitting in a chair which is positioned so that her back is to the door as she stares out of the window.
“Tracy?” Kit says, waiting for her to swivel round.
The seconds pass, and eventually Tracy turns, her eyes red and swollen from crying and lack of sleep.
“Oh Tracy.” Kit forgets whatever distance has come between them and rushes over, gathering Tracy in her arms.
Tracy bursts into tears. “I love him,” she says. “And it’s over.”
Kit rubs her back softly, not saying anything, and when the tears gradually subside, Kit pulls away and cups Tracy’s face in her hand.
“I know,” she whispers, and confusion fills Tracy’s eyes.
“I know about Jed. Steve. I know about the abuse.”
“Wha—” Tracy frowns. “How? How do you know? Did Robert tell you?”
“No. I was in my office and the door was open. I was resting and you were standing right outside. I didn’t know what to do. I was going to get up but then it was too late, and I froze. I’m so sorry.”
“So you heard everything.”
“I did.”
“Kit, I’m so sorry I’ve been so weak. And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about Steve, and I’m so—”
“Will you stop? Stop apologizing. I understand. I understand everything. You don’t have to explain it to me. I just wanted to see if you were okay. I was worried about you.”
“I’ve been crying all night.” Tracy closes her eyes. “I never expected to fall in love with Robert. Not like this. But now I have, and he doesn’t want me.”
“That’s not what he said last night. He said he needed time.”
“But he can’t trust me after this. How could he?”
“I think you will be okay,” Kit says. “I think he loves you too much to let you go, and this isn’t your fault. You’re the victim in this, not the perpetrator.”
“But I was in the beginning. I went along with Jed’s plan in the beginning, before I thought about what I was doing. Before I cared.”
“That’s in the past. Now we just have to figure out the future.”
“How?”
“I’m not sure yet, but we’ll think of something. You really do love him, don’t you?”
Tracy nods. “I really do.”
The snow, still falling, covers the small Connecticut town in a blanket of white. It is a perfect snowstorm. Picture perfect. So soft and welcoming, it will cover up any ugliness underneath.
Dune Road is covered, apart from a set of tire tracks leading up to Hillpoint. They are from a rented limo, which may or may not be able to get out of the driveway now that the snow is falling so fast, but the visitor has been inside the house for two hours, and shows no sign of coming out soon.
The driver presses his seat back and rests his head on the headrest for a nap. It doesn’t look like he’ll be going anywhere in a hurry.
Inside, Peter, or Plum, as Robert knows him, sits with Robert, chatting quietly in the living room. He explains how he knows, and assures Robert that Tracy is genuine. He made a few calls after he spoke to Kit, and there are some things he has firmly established.
The first is that Tracy is telling the truth, and there is nothing in her history to indicate she is part of a larger conspiracy: no criminal record, nothing damaging other than her affiliation with Jed.
He, on the other hand, is another story entirely. There are outstanding warrants for his arrest in the state of California, and a criminal record.
“A nasty piece of work,” Plum says, “but a small-time operator.”
Robert smiles. “Are you going to tell me you have people who would take care of him?”
Plum doesn’t smile back. “Are you asking me to have him taken care of?”
Robert shakes his head. “I would not do that. I just feel . . . torn. What if I make a mistake? What if I am wrong about Tracy?”
“Pfff!” Plum dismisses him. “What if I am wrong about Ginny? So I am wrong. Lord knows I have been wrong many times before. If we are wrong, we move on. Life is too short not to seize happiness when it presents itself, and you, my friend, have spent many years without knowing happiness.”
“It hasn’t been that bad.” Robert attempts a smile, but when it comes it is forced, and false.
“I was there, remember?” Plum says, this time more gently. “I saw how Penelope treated you. She was a wild one, too much of a handful for you. I saw her fall and, although God will hav
e to forgive me for saying this, I always felt relief for you. I assumed you would be able to move on without her. But I read about you in the papers, and you haven’t moved on. And now, all these years later, I see you again, and finally you have a chance of happiness. You must seize it, for it is all we have. Why spend the rest of your years alone, when you have someone who brings you peace?”
He pauses for a moment, then shrugs.
“And if it doesn’t work out? You will try again. The splendid Ginny is my fifth try.” He grins. “And all of them have been marvelous in their own ways. Apart from number three,” he grimaces. “She was a monster.”
“So what about this Jed Halstead? How do we make him go away?”
“Easy. Men like Jed Halstead bully their women because they have no balls. They always say if you stand up to a bully, you’ll never be bothered again. I have a friend who is a producer on a big news show on NBC. I can put a call in to him, get him round with a camera crew. I promise you he’ll disappear. Or I could just go and see him. Have a man-to-man chat. Tell him it would be better for everyone if he left, and stayed far away. It helps to be friends with the Governor of California.”
Robert laughs. “You and Schwarzenegger? That I’d have to see.”
“So. In my opinion, you must give this Tracy a chance. And I can take care of Jed Halstead. If you will let me. For many years I felt that I owed you after Penelope’s death. I was not a good friend to you, too caught up in the problems in my own marriage, and I always felt bad about that. This is my chance to repay you.”
“Thank you, Plum.” Robert nods. “You will never know how much I appreciate this.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Edie believes in fate.
When Robert returned, alone, from his yacht trip around the Mediterranean, all those years ago, Edie’s heart broke, but she loved them both, and she prayed that one day Robert would find his happy ending, hoped that fate would intervene to find him true love, for as much as she adored Penelope, she knew they were two people who should never have been together.
When Kit moved in next door, Edie knew she had found a family—Kit would be the daughter she always wanted, and Tory and Buckley the grandchildren she never had.
She knew that Steve was bad news, and had lived long enough to also know that life has a habit of working out, particularly when you’re busy making other plans.
And so today, as she sits in the Greenhouse with Kit and Charlie, listening to them chatter away, she smiles to herself, knowing that everything is working out exactly the way it is supposed to.
They have stopped for lunch after a morning traipsing around the neighboring town of Westport searching for the perfect outfit to wear to Robert and Tracy’s wedding.
“It’s tiny,” Tracy kept insisting. “Just fifteen of us. Please don’t go to any trouble.”
“Don’t worry, we can’t afford to,” Charlie reassured her, driving Kit and Edie off to Talbots, Ann Taylor and J.Crew, where each of them has found the perfect dress for a late spring wedding.
Into the shoe store for shoes, although Edie passed, preferring to wear her old comfortable sandals, and then off to the Greenhouse for a girls’ lunch, where they stuff the bags under the table and treat themselves to flatbread pizzas and sweet potato fries—as Charlie says, they won’t have to worry about squeezing into their dresses for another four weeks.
“So how are things, Charlie?” Kit asks, picking up a french fry and dipping it into the homemade aioli.
“Tough,” admits Charlie, “but getting better. I miss having my own place, my own house, but it could be worse. At least we have family here. God knows what would have happened to us otherwise. Seriously. I sometimes think we would have ended up on the streets if they hadn’t taken us in.”
“No, you wouldn’t. I would have taken you in.”
“For about a minute until you realized you couldn’t stand having four more people in your house.”
“You’re right. I would then have sent you to Edie’s.”
Edie grins at them. “I’d have loved it.”
“And how’s Keith doing?”
“You know, I honestly don’t know. It’s better than it was, but not as good as it was before it got bad, if that makes sense.”
“He’s still working with you?”
Charlie shrugs. “I need the help. And he has the time. It’s working for now, enabling me to do more deliveries than I ever did before. I hate working in my in-laws’ garage, but”—she looks around the restaurant and lowers her voice—“there is something exciting coming up but I’m not supposed to talk about it.”
“Oh come on! You can’t just say there’s something exciting and not tell us anything else.” Kit pouts. “Anyway, you’ve always been hopeless at keeping secrets.”
“Okay, but if I tell you, I have to swear you both to secrecy.”
“Done.”
Edie nods her consent.
“Alice and Harry are opening a second Greenhouse.”
“Another restaurant? Really? In these times they’re doing that well?”
“It’s not the restaurant that’s doing so well as much as the catering. They’re finding more and more people are asking them for prepared food, and when Boccas went out of business, they started looking at opening a food market.”
“So . . . what? You’re going into the business of selling food now? ”
Charlie laughs. “I don’t think so. It will be almost like the farmers’ markets in California. Great, fresh, local food where possible, a coffee shop, a small restaurant—and a florist.”
“Aha!”
“Exactly. So they asked if I would run the florist.”
“Would you own it?”
“I would run it as a concession. It’s perfect. It gives me a shop front but without the headaches of ownership, which is the best of all worlds. And there’s great space downstairs in the basement to do all the arranging. We’ve projected an increase of sixty percent once we’re there, so I’m going to need Keith’s help because, God knows, it’s not like I can afford to pay anyone.”
“And how does Keith feel about this?”
“Surprisingly excited. He sees it as a real possibility, and we’ve also been looking at vendor licenses to operate flower carts, so we could expand into other towns, or other areas in this town.”
Kit smiles at her. “Charlie, this sounds great. Really exciting.”
Charlie shrugs. “I hope so. We need all the good news we can get.”
Kit smiles coyly. “I may have some good news myself . . .”
“You do! What?”
“Well—” A slow smile spreads on her face. “Adam and I are taking the kids away next week. Adam’s rented a house on Fire Island.”
“What do you mean, Adam and you?”
“I mean, Adam and I.”
“Are you two . . . ?”
“Together? No!”
“Okay, let me rephrase it. How many bedrooms does this house have?”
Kit looks away, but there is no disguising the smile in her eyes. “Enough.”
“Have you and he done the nasty?”
“Oh please!” More peals of laughter. “Not in front of Edie! And I hate to tell you this, Charlie, but how do you think Tory and Buckley were born?”
“I don’t mean then! I mean now! Recently? Have you?”
Kit blushes. “No. We haven’t.”
“So . . . have you kissed?” This time Edie asks the question, a twinkle in her eye.
“Well, no. We haven’t.”
“Oh. So . . . is this just you and Adam doing your usual thing and co-parenting sickeningly well?” asks Charlie.
“I don’t know,” Kit says. “But I do know that after this past year, I need a break, and Adam offered, and he and I are getting on better than we ever have. I like being around him again.”
“And he’s around, which is, in itself, a huge difference.” Charlie smiles.
“Exactly. It feels very different
now. He’s around, not constantly running away to work, and he’s really been there for me.”
“So do you think something will happen?”
“I don’t know, but I’m excited. I have these nervous butterflies every time I think about it.”
“And the kids? How do they feel?”
“Thrilled. Tory was completely in love with Annabel, and she still doesn’t understand how she could just disappear and not get in touch.”
“Poor kid. Will you tell her?”
“Not at the moment. There’s no reason to. I just said Annabel had some things to take care of, and she was going through some hard stuff in her life.”
“Have you forgiven her?”
Kit shakes her head. “No. And right now I can’t see a point where I’ll be able to.” As she looks at Charlie, then Edie, she is tearing up slightly. “You’re my real family. Both of you. The people who surround me that I love. Not some long-lost sister with dubious motives.”
“What about your mom?”
“Funnily enough, this has brought us much closer together. And it helps that she’s finally got a great husband. I think Peter’s amazing. You know Robert’s asked him to be best man?”
“Really?” Charlie and Edie are both surprised.
“And now they’re even talking about buying a little house in the area—Peter thinks Ginny should be near her grandchildren.”
“That’s great!” says Charlie, but when Kit looks at Edie, she can see the concern in her eyes.
“Edie,” she says gently, “we love you as well. She isn’t replacing you and, frankly, you’re more of a grandmother to my children than she will ever be, wherever she ends up buying a house.”
“Thank you for saying that,” Edie says, her relief apparent.
“And you’re also more of a mother to me. You know that, right? Nothing will change if she’s here.”
“Are you okay with her buying a house here?”
“Well, my first stipulation is that Edie has to be her broker, and the second is that I shall have to keep reminding myself that as long as I have no expectations, it will be fine. I will say that she’s surprised me recently. I know that people don’t fundamentally change, but she seems more at peace now, and she’s really been there for me during all this in a way she never was before. And she’s really a great grandmother. Much better than she ever was as a mother. I’m just going to sit back and see what happens.”
