Here's to Friends

by Melody Carlson

  “Maybe so, but Abby doesn’t believe it.”

  “Why? Why won’t she believe me?”

  “It would’ve helped if you’d made the counseling appoint—”

  “I already told you I had the wrong day down. Abby can look at my Day-Timer in my office if she doesn’t believe me. The appointments used to be on Thursday, and it caught me off guard to have it on—”

  “I know, Paul. You already told me that.”

  “Well, it’s just so frustrating. I don’t understand my wife.”

  “Her feelings are hurt, Paul. Can’t you get that? She sees you having your little tête-à-tête, and it looks bad. You even admitted that yourself.”

  “Yes, but I explained that it was innocent. Bonnie is a business associate. It’s perfectly normal to have an impromptu meeting with a business associate at the fitness club.”

  “You’re talking to the wrong woman.”

  “I know.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “But the right woman won’t listen.”

  “Because she’s hurting right now. Can’t you understand that?”

  “Not really. Abby knows that I love her.”

  “Really? You honestly believe that? She knows you love her?”

  “Of course. I tell her that all the time.”

  “You tell her that?” Caroline was skeptical.

  “Well, not always in words. But I show it to her every day. I built her this great house, and I work—”

  “You built Abby that house, Paul? Really? That’s not the way I heard it.”

  “Okay. Fine. I wanted the house too. But I’ve been with Abby all these years. If I didn’t love her, why would I still be with her?”

  “Wow, those are some romantic words. Just what a girl wants to hear.”

  “Right. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I think your heart’s right,” Caroline said carefully. But the truth was, she wasn’t positive about this. “But you really need to work on your delivery.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “I’m not sure. This is kind of new territory to me.”

  “But you’re her friend. Can’t you talk to her and find out what she expects me to do?”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Just tell her I’m sorry, okay?” His voice softened. “Tell her I want to talk to her.”

  “I’ll do that, Paul. In the meantime, can I give you a bit of advice?”

  “Sure. What?”

  “Well, there are women out there—I’m not saying Bonnie is one of them; in fact, I like Bonnie and she’s been great to work with—but there are women out there without boundaries when it comes to other women’s husbands. Do you understand what I mean?”

  “Sure. Abby and I have talked about this. We’ve been down this Bonnie road before. And I’ve assured Abby over and over that Bonnie and I are nothing more than business friends. That’s it.”

  “Well, Abby isn’t as sure as you think.”

  “Obviously.”

  “I’ve seen Bonnie look at you, Paul. And Abby saw it today. As your friend, I’m warning you, Paul. Bonnie might think that you are up for grabs.”

  He laughed.

  “Don’t laugh, Paul. I’m being serious. Some women have no respect for the bonds of marriage. They wouldn’t think twice about snatching up a good man.”

  He chuckled. “So you think I’m a good man?”

  Caroline considered this. “I’d like to think so, Paul. Why don’t you prove it to all of us by winning your wife back?”

  “Fine. Maybe I’ll just do that.”

  “Great. I hope you do.”

  “You’re a good friend,” he said in a more gentle tone. “To Abby and to me. Thanks, Caroline.”

  “You’re welcome. And you take care, Paul.”

  She felt hopeful as she hung up the phone. Maybe Paul really wasn’t the dirtbag that Abby claimed he was. The question now was how to convince Abby.

  By Friday afternoon, Caroline felt desperate. Abby seemed to be slipping into a real depression. Still refusing to speak to Paul, she was barricaded in the master suite, where she spent most of her time either crying or sleeping. Even more troubling, for three days Abby had refused to eat. Finally, Caroline couldn’t take it anymore. For that reason, she called an emergency meeting of the Lindas on Friday at five. Janie and Marley already knew what was going on and, in their own ways, had tried to comfort Abby. But all of them felt frustrated—they were not getting through.

  “She needs help,” Caroline told them as they gathered downstairs. “But I’m just not sure what kind of help.”

  “She’s so down on herself,” Marley said. “As much as she says she hates Paul, I think she hates herself just as much.”

  “But why?” Janie asked.

  “So many reasons,” Caroline explained. “She feels like a failure. Like she’s failed as a wife. And she’s certain her B and B is going to fail too. Did you guys hear about what happened with Glen Hawley, the grumpy guest who was applying for the city manager job?”

  “You mean the guy Abby exposed for who he really was?” Marley added.

  “I told her to be careful about that,” Janie said.

  “She was careful,” Marley explained. “She sent an anonymous letter to city hall. She did the city a favor.”

  “So what happened?” Janie asked.

  “Hawley must’ve found out that it was Abby.”

  “How is that possible?” Janie demanded.

  “I’m not sure.” Caroline’s brow creased. “But he must’ve known because he wrote this nasty review on the B and B website that Abby belongs to. Posted for everyone to see. He blasted her. He even said she had bedbugs!”

  “Bedbugs? That’s slanderous—Abby could sue him.” Janie pulled out her iPad. “Tell me the name of the website again. I need to see this.”

  Caroline told her, and Janie pulled it up, reading the review out loud.

  “Oh, dear.” Marley shook her head. “That’s terrible.”

  “Well, I’ll warn the website that they have to remove it,” Janie declared. “Unfortunately Glen Hawley’s name isn’t attached to it, so I won’t be able to do anything more than send him a warning letter.”

  “That’s better than nothing.” Caroline smiled. “It’s sure great having an attorney for a friend.”

  Janie shrugged. “It’s nice being able to help someone who really needs it. I’m just not too sure about the rest of my practice. I’m finding out that it’s not exactly what I’d hoped it would be. Sometimes I wonder if I should go in a completely different direction.”

  “You probably just need to give it time,” Caroline told her.

  “But back to Abby,” Janie said. “Has this Glen Hawley business really derailed her? Because we should be able to shut that down by the end of the day.”

  “It’s more than just that.” Caroline glanced toward the stairs. “She’s so buried under it all. From her perspective she’s got a ruined marriage, a failed business, she hates her body, and then there’s Christmas.”

  “Christmas?” Marley frowned.

  “What’s wrong with Christmas?” Janie asked. “Abby has always loved Christmas.”

  “That’s the problem. She feels like she’s ruined Christmas, too.” So Caroline told them about Abby’s plans to have all her kids stay at the inn. “She wanted to have a great big gathering, pulling out all the stops. You know, Abby-style. But now that she thinks her marriage is on the skids, Abby says she’s calling Christmas off.”

  “Poor Abby.” Marley shook her head.

  “So?” Caroline looked hopefully at them. “What can we do to help her?”

  The room got quiet. Everyone just looked at each other, but no one came up with a suggestion.


  “I realize we all have our own stuff to deal with,” Caroline said a bit helplessly. She looked at Marley. “You’ve got your hands full, trying to help with Hunter and stay on top of your paintings.” She turned to Janie. “You’re trying to get your law practice up and running. And it’s almost the holidays.” She held up her hands. “But I just didn’t know who else to turn to.”

  “What can we do?” Marley asked.

  “What does Abby need?” Janie leaned forward. “Can we make a list?”

  “Sure.” Eager for any suggestions, Caroline jumped up and got the little tablet by the phone, then hurried back. “Okay, I’ll play secretary. What does Abby need?”

  “She needs to talk to Paul,” Janie said.

  “She needs to feel good about herself again,” Marley added.

  “She needs to figure out a way to get rid of that bad B and B review.” Janie frowned. “I wish we could take legal action. Are we sure it was written by that Hawley guy?”

  “Who else?” Caroline said. “The Hawleys are the only guests she’s had.”

  “Unless you count Victor’s ex,” Janie said quietly. “But I don’t really think she’d do that—not to Abby anyway. And Victor said she’s getting some good help.”

  “You know what I think Abby needs?” Caroline said. “A slumber party! A real old-fashioned, honest-to-goodness slumber party—you know, like we used to have. Sometimes right here in this very house.”

  Marley and Janie looked at Caroline like she had totally lost it.

  “Hear me out.” Caroline held up the list. “I’m not saying this list isn’t worthwhile. But the question is—how can we help Abby out of her funk right now?”

  “With a slumber party?” Marley frowned. “Aren’t we a little old for that?”

  “No.” Caroline stood. “We’re as young as we feel. But right now Abby feels like a hundred-year-old woman. She said as much this morning.”

  “Okay, if we did this slumber party …” Janie’s brow creased like she was trying to analyze this idea. “What exactly would we do?”

  “The same things we used to do,” Caroline explained. “We’d eat junk food, watch silly old movies, do each others’ hair and fingernails, talk about boys.” She clapped her hands. “Hey, maybe we could even talk some of the guys into coming over here and sneaking in—”

  “Caroline,” Marley said with a little exasperation. “Jack is a grandfather with a wooden leg. I cannot imagine him climbing up the trellis to sneak in here.”

  “And I doubt Victor will want to come over and toilet paper the shrubbery,” Janie added.

  Caroline laughed. “Yeah, I get that. I was actually thinking maybe Paul would crash.”

  “Seriously?” Janie frowned. “Even if Paul was willing, Abby would probably throw a lamp at his head.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Caroline looked hopefully at them. “Are you girls in?”

  To her relief they agreed. Instead of listing the practical steps Abby might take to feel better, they began to list what they needed for a rip-roaring slumber party. “I’ve got all the beauty products,” Caroline told them.

  “I can go out and gather up the junk food,” Janie offered. “Does it have to be real junk food?”

  “Just make it fun food,” Caroline told her. “We don’t really need to make ourselves sick. Just don’t make it too healthy.”

  “How about margaritas?” Marley suggested.

  “Why not?” Caroline told her.

  “And we need some good old funny movies,” Janie said.

  “Chick flicks,” Marley stated.

  “Like Overboard,” Caroline suggested.

  “Or What Women Want,” Marley added.

  “Or The Women,” Janie said. “The original one from the thirties. I just got it on DVD.”

  They shot out some more ideas, including old music and old photos. Then, with a plan in place, they all hurried off on their various ways to gather the miscellaneous ingredients for a successful slumber party. Caroline knew her crazy idea could flop badly, but it could also be exactly what Abby needed. It was worth a shot.

  It was about seven thirty by the time they had everything ready to go. Dressed in their goofiest pajamas with beauty products spread about like a Mary Kay party on steroids, and with sixties music playing, they set out old yearbooks and bowls of popcorn, chips, and a big selection of chocolate, as well as a fruit and veggie platter. They had a diverse selection of chick flicks ready to go. Finally, ready to take it to the next level, they invaded Abby’s bedroom.

  “Time to get up and par-tee!” Caroline announced as she flipped on the light.

  “Wh-what?” Abby sat up, looking disheveled and shocked and confused.

  “Slumber party!” Marley shouted. “Up and at ’em.”

  “Come on, Absters,” Janie said. “We’ve got a big night ahead of us, girlfriend.”

  “What are you guys—” But before Abby could protest, they had her by the hands and were pulling her out of bed.

  “Girls night in,” Caroline said. “And we need all the girls present.”

  Before long they were all downstairs, eating junk food, giving each other facials and pedicures, singing old songs, playing cards, watching movies, and acting like teenagers. Although Abby seemed to have no idea that they were doing this party for her benefit, it didn’t take long before she was starting to act and look a lot more like her old self.

  “So what do you think about the idea of having Paul crash?” Janie whispered to Caroline while they were replenishing some of their junk food in the kitchen.

  “I don’t know.” Caroline frowned. “We’re having so much fun already. I’d hate to spoil it.”

  “I agree.” Janie nodded.

  At Janie’s insistence, they watched The Women, the original version, and they laughed so hard that Abby had tears running down her cheeks. Caroline gave Abby a pedicure, and Marley took it a step further by painting little daisies on her toes. So their slumber party continued on into the night. And although no one really had the energy to pull a true all-nighter, they did keep it going until the wee hours of the morning, watching Overboard until after two, when Janie drifted off in a chair and Marley wandered off to sleep in one of the guest-room beds. After thanking Caroline, Abby excused herself to bed too. Caroline couldn’t fault her friends for crashing, since she was sleepy too. Slumber parties in her fifties weren’t quite the same as when she was younger and had slept in sleeping bags on the hard floor.

  All in all, as Caroline got into her own bed, she thought it had been a very good night. And she hoped that, even if it wasn’t exactly what Abby needed, it was enough to remind Abby that she was needed and loved by her girlfriends. Before she dozed off, Caroline decided that she would write her own review of Abby’s B and B—a five-star review about the most comfortable beds, the finest linens, delicious French-milled soaps, and the best cuisine imaginable!

  Chapter 14

  Marley

  Abby’s mom had been Marley’s inspiration since childhood. Independent, outspoken, and an artist, Doris had been ahead of her time. Sometimes Marley marveled at how different Abby was from her mother.

  “Oh, I wasn’t always like this,” Doris told Marley as the two shared coffee the morning after Doris had returned from a trip to New Mexico. “I actually started out a bit like Abby—content to be a homemaker and mother. But I realized that wasn’t enough, and that’s when I began to paint.”

  “Did you ever feel guilty about painting?” Marley asked a bit tentatively.

  “Guilty?” Doris’s brow creased. “Whatever for?”

  “Perhaps you thought you were stealing time from your family?” Marley remembered feeling like that when Ashton was young.

  Doris laughed. “Well, my family—particularly Abby, since she was
the baby and a bit spoiled—sometimes resented my art. But I think if they’d understood how much it improved the quality of my life, and hence the quality of theirs, they would’ve supported me wholeheartedly.” She leaned forward to peer at Marley. “Why are you asking me about that? Surely, you have no reason to feel guilty about your own work. Especially now that you’ve gotten that impressive Santa Barbara gallery interested in you.” She grinned. “That’s just the best news, Marley.”

  “It was good news. But it’s ironic, because it feels like I’ve been unable to paint much of anything since then.”

  “Do you think the idea of getting more recognition has intimidated you?

  “I suppose that’s possible.”

  “Sometimes I worry that I’d stop enjoying pursuing my art if someone raised the bar for me. But I like to paint for the fun of it.”

  “I can understand that, but I don’t think that’s my problem.” Marley hadn’t told Doris about Hunter yet. And so she decided to spill that story—the short version anyway. “I want to help out,” she said finally. “Jack certainly needs it. But it’s as if I’ve gotten stuck. Even with others helping to watch Hunter for me, it’s as if I can’t really create anymore. I feel distracted and edgy and worried, and as a result I’m not painting.”

  “That’s not good.” Doris got a thoughtful look. “Do you pray about it?”

  “About what?”

  “Your art.”

  Marley considered this. “I don’t know. Not really, I guess. Not specifically anyway. I pray about a lot of other things though.”

  “That’s good. But you should pray about your art, too, Marley. God gave you the gift to paint and create. It only makes sense that you should commit that gift to him. Don’t you think?”

  “Probably so.” Marley nodded. “I’ll try to do that.”

  “Now, tell me how Abby is doing. I haven’t talked to her since I got home yesterday, but she left me a couple of odd messages this past week. And she hasn’t returned my call. Is she really living at the inn?”

  “Yeah, she is.” Then Marley told her about how Abby saw Paul and Bonnie together at the fitness club.