by Karen White
Seven
MERILEE
Lily sat in the backseat with the silver tray full of cookies on her lap while Merilee wished for about the tenth time that she’d asked Colin to hold them instead. Every time she took a turn or just went around a bend in the road, Lily looked like she would pass out from the burden of trying to keep the nicely arranged cookies in place.
“Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter if they get messed up. We can fix them when we get there, okay?”
“But what if Bailey sees them before we have time to fix them?”
There were so many ways Merilee could choose to answer that question that it was hard to find one that would be appropriate for young ears. “You’ll just have to tell her that they’re delicious and she’ll have to wait until she can have one.”
Colin slumped in the backseat next to his sister. “What if the dog comes to the yard looking for me and I’m not there?”
“If a tree falls in the woods, and there’s no one there to hear, does it make a sound?” She hadn’t meant to be snarky, but she was feeling tense at the prospect of seeing all those people at the party and having them know more about her than she knew about them. Like how her ex-husband was living with his pregnant girlfriend.
“Huh?” Colin asked.
“Sorry,” Merilee apologized. “I was just answering your hypothetical question with one of my own. And it’s ‘excuse me,’ not ‘huh.’ I don’t need people thinking you were raised in a barn.”
“What’s wrong with being raised in a barn? I think that would be cool. And I could have a dog and as many animals as I wanted, because it’s a barn.”
If the road up to Heather’s house on Lake Lanier hadn’t been so narrow and curvy, Merilee would have closed her eyes in frustration.
“Hypothetical means it’s not based on fact, but on what someone thinks might be true,” offered Lily. Merilee’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.
Merilee had been up to this area, known as “Atlanta’s water playground,” a few times to take the children to the water park at Lake Lanier but had never been invited to one of the private homes. When Heather had told her that they should have enough room for Colin, Merilee was left thinking of a smallish cabin in the woods, with a distant lake view through the trees. Which was why when her GPS told her to take a left at a large gated entrance, she was surprised to be stopped by a man in uniform carrying a clipboard, and even more surprised when she gave him her name and it was on the list.
The road narrowed as it climbed past heavily wooded lots, quick slices of water views teasing them as they meandered their way until they couldn’t go any farther because of all the parked cars. Merilee put the minivan in park as a young man wearing khaki shorts and a white button-down shirt ran toward her.
Merilee rolled down her window. “I’m looking for number eight thirty-six.”
“The Blackfords?” He was already tearing off a ticket stub and handing it to her. “Just jump in one of those golf carts and one of us will be happy to drive you to the house.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. We can walk,” Merilee said, eyeing the heavy tray of cookies.
“Well, it’s about three-quarters of a mile, mostly at a slope, so I’d suggest you take advantage of the carts. That’s what they’re there for.” He smiled and opened her door.
“All right, then. Hang on, Lily, and I’ll take the tray.”
Lily looked more relieved than was warranted.
After settling themselves into a golf cart driven by another young man wearing a uniform of khaki shorts and white shirt, they were driven past two large stone pillars, each with an upright and angry-looking lion perched on the top. She looked down at her shorts and wondered if she should have worn a dress instead.
The driveway opened up, giving them an expansive view of the lake and the large dock and boathouse and impressive array of motorized water toys parked around it. Several adults and children were making their way down to the dock, but Merilee didn’t have time to try to identify anyone because she was too busy staring at the house. Except it wasn’t a house. Even calling it a mansion wouldn’t have been accurate. It was more like something from a Disney movie—sprawling and turreted, with mullioned windows and lots of wrought iron. It couldn’t be described by any single architectural term. It was more like someone had thrown a bunch of styles into a pot and stirred so that instead of highlighting a single thing, the style muted all the elements, creating something that was more surprising than beautiful.
The golf cart swooped around to the front of the house, blocking their view of the lake, and stopped in front of wide stone steps leading up to double wooden doors, the arched frame above them high enough to belong to a castle with a moat. There was no moat here—only a perfectly manicured lawn and garden that was so crisp and colorful Merilee wondered if it could be fake.
“Merilee!”
She turned at the sound of her name, relieved more than she’d have liked to admit to see Lindi Matthews. They hadn’t had a chance to have their coffee yet, but they’d had several phone conversations, during which Lindi had essentially pulled Merilee back from the proverbial ledge on the desperate matters of what to pack in the children’s lunches and whether she needed to reciprocate with gifts to the entire class (whatever the kids wanted and no, respectively). Lindi’s ability to listen and consider all sides of a problem before offering solid advice probably made her a very good lawyer. Merilee needed to talk to another adult about the blog and thought she’d ask Lindi out for lunch on a day they could both manage it, because that conversation would last for more than just a cup of coffee.
Lindi smiled, a small dab of pale pink lipstick on her front tooth. “You’ve got a bit here,” Merilee said, touching her own tooth with her finger.
Lindi closed her mouth and swiped her tongue over her teeth. “That will teach me not to try putting on lipstick while I’m driving. I don’t usually wear makeup, but one of the moms is a former Miss Georgia so I always feel as if I have to be on my A game when I’m with this crowd.”
“Which one?” Merilee asked, turning for the first time to study the crowd of people. She hardly recognized any of them out of their tennis gear.
“The tall redhead with the legs up to here. It’s one of the reasons why you see a lot of dads at drop-off. For the sightseeing.” She winked. “Come on. Let me show you where to put the cookies. It’s called the dining room, but Jenna calls it the banquet hall.”
They walked inside the house, and Merilee tried not to gape at the wall of windows that faced them, framing the view of the lake, or at the plush furniture and art that decorated the foyer and living spaces. She looked down at the girl standing next to Lindi, a miniature version of her mother. “Hello, Jenna. I’m Mrs. Dunlap, Lily’s mother. She tells me that you’re very good in math; isn’t that right, Lily?”
She turned to find that both of her children had left her side, seeing that they’d deposited their bags with their bathing suits and change of clothes on the floor next to her feet. Feeling a moment of panic that all mothers seem to acquire at childbirth, she didn’t relax until her gaze settled on both children. Lily was already huddled in a group with Bailey Blackford, and after a moment, she spotted Colin sitting cross-legged in front of a large black Lab, reaching up to scratch it behind its ears. Assuming it was the family dog, Merilee made a mental note to ask Heather if they might ever need someone to dog-sit when they went on vacation.
“I like Lily,” Jenna said, her voice so quiet that Merilee had to lean very close to hear. “She’s nice to me.”
Merilee’s eyes met Jenna’s for a brief moment of understanding at the implication of Jenna’s words.
“Sweetie, why don’t you go say hi to Lily and she can introduce you to her friends?” Lindi offered.
A look of panic crossed the girl’s face. “I’m hungry. Can I eat something first? And then I�
�ll go say hi.”
Lindi asked Jenna to scoop up the two discarded backpacks before the three of them walked into what indeed looked like the perfect spot for a medieval banquet. It was longer than most bowling alleys, as was the trestle table that ran down the middle of it. Wooden rafters bisected a cathedral ceiling, and four wrought-iron chandeliers with real lit candles dangled above the table. Cleverly disguised recessed lights and three walls of tall casement windows with leaded glass flooded the room with light that glinted off the plastic wrap on dozens of elaborate trays, bowls, and platters. Merilee gave a silent thanks to Sugar for the loan of the tray, trying not to imagine her embarrassment if she’d brought anything disposable or resembling plastic.
Leaning in discreetly toward Merilee, Lindi whispered, “Heather’s husband is a doctor, but about six years ago he retired from practicing and opened up a bunch of those doc-in-a-boxes all around the state. It was so successful that they’ve branched out into twenty other states. In case you were wondering.” She stepped toward the table and made room for her own large crystal salad bowl and Merilee’s cookies.
A short, plump woman with olive skin and black hair was busily taking plastic wrap off the food and rearranging the silver boat of fruit that sat in the middle of the table, cascading grapes of three different varieties draping onto the lace tablecloth. She looked up and smiled at Lindi and Merilee without even pausing as she worked.
“That’s Patricia—the house manager,” Lindi said quietly. “You’ll meet Claire, too—she’s the assistant. You should probably get to know them both since you have children in both of Heather’s kids’ classes. She’s very involved, so everybody gets to know Patricia and Claire.”
It wasn’t clear whether Lindi thought this was a good thing. The two mothers stood back from the table as Jenna put tiny pieces of food on a scalloped glass plate, studying each offering as if it were a specimen under a microscope.
“Did your husband come?” Merilee asked, noticing the large number of dads present.
“No, he stayed at home with the baby. Henry’s only eighteen months and desperately needs his nap or we all suffer.” She lifted her hand and waved to a dark-haired woman on the far side of the table. The woman smiled and approached them with two plates, both brimming over with food.
“Merilee, this is Jackie Tyson. She’s the physical education teacher and girls’ cheerleading coach. And no, she doesn’t take bribes, so don’t try.” Lindi and Jackie both laughed, but it had an edge to it, as if somebody actually had tried.
Merilee introduced herself, trying not to smile as she realized she could have guessed the woman’s occupation judging by the bike shorts and muscled thighs.
“Nice to meet you,” Jackie said with a warm smile and another laugh. “Don’t stand too close, though—my husband and I biked here. It didn’t register that it would be so hot or so hilly.” She lifted both plates. “But at least I won’t have to feel guilty about all the calories.”
Merilee nodded with appreciation. “That’s impressive. I had a tough time driving here—thought my brakes might give out on a couple of those inclines.”
“Will your Lily be trying out for the cheerleading squad?” Jackie asked.
“She hasn’t mentioned it to me. She’s never wanted to do one of those cheer camps or asked about trying out, and I never pushed it.”
“I take it you weren’t a cheerleader, then?” Jackie asked.
Merilee kept her smile in place. “I was. But it was a very long time ago.” She took a deep breath, eager to change the conversation. “Lily would like to play tennis—maybe try the junior age-group of the Atlanta Lawn Tennis Association. Her dad plays on a men’s singles ALTA team and I think that’s given her the idea. She had lessons last summer and really enjoyed it and was actually pretty good, and because we’re not in a neighborhood anymore, I thought ALTA would give her a chance to meet other girls her age outside of school.”
“Bailey plays ALTA and is trying out for cheerleading, too,” Jenna said quietly before biting a grape in half.
“Yes, well, the only way I can manage our schedules is to have the kids pick one sport per season to focus on, and that seems to work for us.”
“Us, too,” said Lindi. “It’s the only way I can remain sane.”
“Do you play tennis?” Jackie asked Merilee.
“Oh, gosh. No. When it comes to racquet sports I have the coordination of a toddler. I love the game, though. I was thinking of maybe joining the lowest level—I think that’s C-9—where my lack of skills might not be noticed. More of a social outlet where we play a little tennis.”
Jackie and Lindi exchanged a glance before Lindi explained, “There is no such thing as a social level in ALTA. They’re all in it for blood. Or a bag tag—that’s what you get to hang on your tennis bag when you win a championship. And they’re in it for the food, too. The lower the skill level, the higher the quality of the food the players bring to each match. It’s as competitive as the actual tennis. If not more so.”
Merilee laughed, then stopped when she realized she was the only one.
“My husband must be wondering where his food is. He’s on lifeguard duty down on the dock, so he can’t leave,” Jackie said. “And let me know if you hear of anybody who wants a cat. I just found a litter of kittens and my husband’s being mean and saying I can’t keep them. He says one Beagle and an orange tabby are enough.” She nodded at Merilee. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Feel free to call me at the school if you have any questions about the athletic programs or need any advice—although if you’re friends with Lindi, she’s probably got you covered.” She smiled again, then left to weave her way through the growing crowd, confirming Merilee’s guess that the entire elementary school must have been invited.
A few women she knew by sight waved at her and she smiled and waved back, but she didn’t approach them, afraid of any conversation that might mention the blog. And wondering if one of them might be the writer and not wanting to inadvertently give away any more blog fodder.
“Merilee! So glad you could make it!” Heather appeared in all her blond glory, her tanned and toned arms displayed to perfection in a white form-fitting sundress that showed off an impressive chest and lean body. Merilee found herself slouching as she crossed her arms, deciding that despite what Jackie had said, she’d join a tennis team and subject herself to humiliation if it meant looking like Heather Blackford.
Her bright blue eyes flickered over Merilee’s sleeveless blouse and pleated shorts before settling briefly on her navy blue Keds. Turning her head, she said, “And good to see you, too, Lindi.” She beamed at Jenna. “I understand you were the only one who got all the answers right on the first math quiz. I think we’ll have to have you over to study with Bailey before the next test.”
Jenna’s eyes held a mixture of hope and terror. “That would be nice,” she said quietly, her hand slipping into Lindi’s as her gaze dipped to the floor.
Lindi smiled. “I’m going to take Jenna to change into her swimsuit. I’ll leave Lily and Colin’s backpacks in the pool house if they want to get changed later.”
“Thanks, Lindi. And speaking of which, I need to go find my children—”
“Have you met my husband, Daniel?” Heather interrupted, pulling on her arm as Lindi sent her a quick wave before walking away.
“No, I don’t think so.” Merilee turned to see a tall blond man standing next to Heather. He was Ken to her Barbie, as fit and gorgeous and as comfortable in his skin as was his wife. Except he wasn’t. Despite his warm greeting, and the way he really looked at her and said her name, there was something ill at ease in Heather’s husband.
“She’s a Georgia girl, too.” Heather beamed. “That’s how I can tell we’re going to be the best of friends.”
“A Georgia girl,” Daniel repeated, studying her.
Merilee kept smiling, kept breathing.
“You have a lovely home.”
He turned his head as if seeing where he was for the first time. As if he weren’t the one responsible for paying for all of it. “Oh, thank you. Yes, Heather’s done a fine job with it, hasn’t she?” It sounded like a real question, as if he was searching for reassurance.
“Yes, she has.” Merilee was trying to think of something else to say when the piercing sound of a child’s shrieking came from outside and seemed to go on and on and on. “That’s Lily,” Merilee said even before the thought fully registered in her brain. But recognizing your child’s sounds of distress was another one of those things that appeared at childbirth, along with the eyes in the back of your head and the sixth sense that enabled mothers to know when something was wrong.
She began running toward the wide bank of French doors covering the entire back side of the house. Groups of people parted as she ran down the different levels of steps, following the shrieks, only half-aware of Daniel following close behind her.
She stopped at the trampoline, recognizing Lily’s blond hair spilling over the side, the slight form of her daughter barely making an indentation on the black surface. A woman she didn’t recognize was kneeling next to Lily, the little girl’s bare foot being carefully manipulated in her hands.
“Lily?” Merilee called out before carefully pulling herself onto the trampoline.
“Mom!” Lily, whose screams had subsided into small whimpers by the time Merilee had arrived, burst into renewed crying. “My foot got stuck in the springs. I think it’s broken, and now I can’t try out for tennis or cheerleading.”
The last part of what Lily said barely registered as Merilee crawled over to her daughter. She felt a heavier presence next to her and saw that Daniel had climbed up with her and was addressing the woman. “Thanks, Martha. What does it look like?”
