A Week at the Lake

by Wendy Wax

  “Seriously?” Mackenzie looked at the package, which might have been wrapped by a five-year-old. How could a woman who couldn’t even wrap a gift raise a child?

  “Get over it. There’s a reason stores offer gift wrapping. And I’m one of them. Not everyone aspires to domesticity.”

  Mackenzie snorted. “You have an excuse or an explanation for everything, don’t you?”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Serena’s eyes hardened. “What’s gotten into you?”

  Mackenzie knew this was not the time or the place, but that didn’t seem to matter. “Let’s try this one. How do you explain Emma naming you Zoe’s legal guardian?”

  “What?” Serena asked. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t even try to deny it. I accidentally saw the paperwork from Emma’s attorneys when I brought your phone and laundry in for you.”

  “Accidentally?” Serena asked. As if Mackenzie had gotten some wild hair to come in and pilfer through Serena’s things.

  “Yes,” Mackenzie shot back. “Why don’t you tell me how that happened.”

  “I have no earthly idea,” Serena said. “The paperwork arrived when Emma was in the hospital. I was as shocked as you apparently are.”

  “And you don’t think it’s strange that it doesn’t read ‘if something happened to Emma and Calvin’?” Mackenzie demanded.

  “I promise you I barely thought about it.”

  “But you didn’t say anything to me,” Mackenzie insisted, hating the whiny tone in her voice.

  “I didn’t think there was anything to say. I was too busy praying Emma would regain consciousness and make the issue moot—which she did.” Serena shook her head. “You do remember that part, right?”

  “And you don’t think it’s bizarre that she chose you rather than me and Adam?”

  “Yes, actually I do. But I’m not the one who made that decision.”

  “But it’s obvious we’re the better choices.”

  Serena blinked. Crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you shitting me? You mean because your marriage is so solid that you haven’t even seen Adam for a month? Or because you blog regularly about how great it is to not have children? Or maybe because you’ve been hiding out in Bumfuck, Indiana, and are afraid of moving to a real city where Adam finally has a real opportunity to do what he’s always wanted to do?” She flung the words at Mackenzie, smiling grimly when they hit their mark.

  “At least I’m not out screwing other people’s husbands!” Mackenzie shot back.

  Serena snorted. “I’m shocked it took you a whole day to get to the ‘I told you so.’”

  “Okay, then I told you so! I told you so!” Mackenzie practically shouted. “Everybody told you so!”

  They glared at each other, neither of them moving.

  “I’m just going to point out that I’m not the one who made this decision,” Serena said. “Maybe you should take your little hissy fit and rain it down on Emma. Assuming you don’t have a problem dumping on someone who’s still adjusting to being alive!”

  Both of them were vibrating with anger, which in a troubling way felt a lot better than the hurt and panic that had kept her up all night. Mackenzie was aghast at just how much she had left just waiting to spill over.

  “Hel-lo?” Zoe’s voice reached them from downstairs. “Are you guys ready for cake?”

  Both of them blanched. Neither of them moved.

  “We’ll be down in a minute,” Mackenzie called down the stairs when she finally found her voice. Turning back to Serena she added, “This is Zoe’s big day. It would be a real shame to ruin it.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Serena retorted. “I can control myself if you can.”

  They arrived downstairs with smiles plastered on their faces. But their emotional baggage accompanied them like uninvited guests that refused to leave.

  As far as Emma could tell, Adam and Zoe were the only two people in the room who were unaware that Serena and Mackenzie had had a go at each other. Adam still seemed to be half asleep while Zoe was completely and joyously focused on the exciting here and now of her cake, her presents, and her upcoming first date with Ryan.

  After Eve’s sneak attack, Emma had renewed her resolve to make Zoe’s Sweet Sixteen something they could all treasure, just as she’d treasured the more intimate celebrations with Gran. Tomorrow she’d say what had to be said and attempt to put things to rights no matter the cost. But today was to be savored and enjoyed.

  Emma carried the chocolate birthday cake to the table and set it in front of Zoe while the assembled “cast” sang “Happy Birthday” for the second time that week. This cake didn’t scream “look at me” like the package-shaped extravaganza delivered at Le Cirque had. It was a round three-layer orgy of chocolate with Happy Birthday, Zoe scrawled in bright pink icing. Sixteen neon-colored candles arranged in the shape of a heart blazed brightly.

  “If we’re going to perform this song this often, we’re going to have to spend a little time figuring out how to sing it on key,” Serena said when they’d finished singing. “Maybe we need to call a small choral practice before the cookout tonight. Or see if there are any voice coaches currently vacationing at the lake.” Her tone was wry even though her eyes were red and her face more haggard than Emma had ever seen it.

  “You could just sing softer,” Mackenzie suggested. Her tone was not the least bit wry or teasing.

  “Is that right?” Serena smiled a saccharine smile. “And who made you the new celebrity coach on The Voice?”

  “All righty, then,” Adam said, seeming to notice the tension for the first time. For a creative person Adam Russell had an amazing tendency to ignore the obvious.

  “Well, I don’t care what key you sing in as long as there’s cake after,” Zoe said happily. “I’ve never had three celebrations before. I think I’m going to like being sixteen.”

  As they waited for Zoe to make her wish, Serena and Mackenzie looked everywhere but at each other. Neither of them appeared to have slept. As Zoe drew in a deep breath and began to blow out her candles, Emma made a wish of her own that somehow turned into more of a prayer. Please God, let everyone forgive me once I finally confess. And please don’t let Zoe’s wish include being allowed to take the part Eve dangled in front of her. She held her own breath until the last candle sputtered out.

  “Yes!” Zoe’s fist pumped in victory. The rest of them applauded.

  “Girl have good lungs. And determination,” Nadia observed. “She make good weight lifter.”

  “I could get behind that,” Emma said, thinking she’d much rather see Zoe lifting weights with Nadia than acting with Eve. “Presents or cake first?” she asked her daughter, instructing herself to relax. Hoping Serena and Mackenzie would do the same.

  “I vote someone starts cutting the cake while I open the presents,” Zoe said.

  “I like the way this girl thinks,” Serena said.

  “Me too,” Mackenzie added with a toss of her head and a more conciliatory tone.

  Emma shot them both a look of gratitude.

  “Here, I’ll cut it.” Mackenzie pulled the cake closer. The first slice went to Zoe, who took a large bite and groaned dramatically. “OMG. This is so good. I might be able to wait the three seconds it’s gonna take to finish it before I open presents.” She did exactly that while everyone else began to dig in. Emma, who’d had little appetite since they’d fled Le Cirque, downed her first bite mostly to join in. A moment later she, too, was closing her eyes and groaning with pleasure.

  “This chocolate cake was definitely worth getting up for,” Adam announced.

  “And I’m not?” Zoe asked, pretending shock.

  Emma looked up as Serena snapped a photo of Adam and Zoe wearing appallingly similar expressions.

  Serena, who’d set down her phone and was once again eating cake
, noticed Emma’s questioning glance. “I’m not much of a photographer, but, well, I know we’re pretty much at the end of our stay. And I thought I’d put together one of those photo books of Zoe’s birthday celebration for all of us to remember.”

  “Cool!” Zoe said with an enthusiasm Emma didn’t feel. “I bet there’d be fewer wars if more people ate chocolate cake for breakfast,” her daughter observed as she finished her last bite.

  “No doubt.” Emma smiled. “Maybe we should start a movement. See if we can get an armada full of them shipped to the Middle East or something.”

  “I’m in,” Serena said. “I just need one more sliver to get properly motivated.”

  Emma waited for Zoe to lick the last bits of chocolate off her fingers then retrieved a black velvet box from the pile of presents and placed it in front of Zoe. “This is from me. And Gran.” Her voice was hushed as she waited for Zoe to pull off the ribbon and open the box. “Gran gave these to me when I turned sixteen. Now it’s your turn to wear them.”

  Zoe’s eye pooled with tears as Emma fastened the string of perfectly matched pearls around her neck. She looked at Emma. “I expect you to be here when it’s time for me to give these to my daughter.”

  Emma pulled Zoe into a hug even as her eyes filled with tears. “You just try to keep me away.”

  “Oh, my God. Stop it.” Serena’s voice broke the weighty silence. “You’re wrecking my sugar high with all those tears.”

  Emma nodded numbly as she let go of Zoe, but it took considerable effort to shut off the waterworks. She couldn’t even look at Mackenzie.

  “I agree with Serena,” Adam said. “I feel like we’ve stumbled into some Nicholas Sparks movie. Crying over birthday cake is way too maudlin.”

  “Well, I think the pearls look especially lovely with Zoe’s pajamas,” Serena quipped as she picked up her phone again and framed a shot of Emma and Zoe. “You all squish closer so I can get all four of you.” She waved Adam and Mackenzie into position next to Emma and Zoe.

  “Nadia, will you get a shot of all of us?” Mackenzie asked. “I think we need at least one with Serena in her pajamas without makeup—just in case she finds herself tempted to post anything of us to Facebook.”

  “I want one with Nadia in it, too!” Zoe said.

  Adam, who had the longest arms, volunteered to take the “selfie” of all of them. Then he took one of Emma, Serena, Mackenzie, and Zoe. “For posterity,” he said.

  Emma offered up a small prayer that tomorrow’s confession didn’t prevent them from ever wanting to be in a room with her again let alone close enough to fit in a photo.

  “Here, open mine,” Mackenzie said, pushing a gaily wrapped box toward Zoe.

  “But you already gave me my outfit that we designed together.”

  “This is just a little something extra,” Mackenzie said.

  Zoe opened the box and shrieked with happiness. “You made the sundress, too!”

  Mackenzie’s smile was brittle, but bright. “And if you’d like we could probably turn the gown Eve gave you into something a little more age appropriate.”

  Emma braced for Zoe to reject the offer in favor of keeping it for her acceptance speech, but Zoe threw her arms around Mackenzie and then around Adam while Serena continued to snap photos. “This is all so great. Thank you!”

  Next she opened a gift bag from Nadia. It contained a DVD of Doctor Zhivago. “We watch one night. Omar Sharif pretty hot for bridge player. I show you where Nadia from.”

  “My turn.” Serena put down her camera and pushed the last, appallingly wrapped, gift closer to Zoe. They watched her unwrap the oddly shaped package.

  “Oh, how perfect.” Emma smiled.

  “I may not know how to gift wrap.” Serena shot Mackenzie a look. “But I understand the importance of a theme.” She lifted her phone to get a shot of Zoe holding up her new tote bag. It was designed by Kate Spade and had big black letters that proclaimed, EAT CAKE FOR BREAKFAST. There was a matching iPhone cover inside along with an As the World Churns T-shirt to replace the one that had been sacrificed to Zoe’s new outfit. The last item was an exact duplicate of Georgia Goodbody’s fan.

  “The fan’s from Ethan,” Serena said. “But I can teach you how to bat your eyes behind it and look mysterious. If done properly this can turn a man into your slave.” She sighed as she flipped it open to demonstrate. “But you have to remember to use it when it matters most.”

  Emma watched her old friend work the fan and bat her eyelashes, though it was obvious her heart wasn’t in it. In just twenty-four hours Emma wouldn’t have anything left to hide behind. Not even a fan.

  Thirty-six

  Come and get ’em!” Jake Richards held up a metal triangle and dinged it loudly. “The ribs are officially ready for consumption.”

  The day had been mild and as the sun began to slip in the sky, the breeze was just strong enough to keep the mosquitoes at bay. The deep pungent scent of barbecuing meat wafted on that breeze. Paper lanterns swayed gently on the tree branches and twinkled above the picnic table that had been covered in a brightly checked tablecloth. Large earthenware bowls of Martha’s homemade coleslaw and potato salad anchored the cloth. Bottles of red and white wine sat open and ready; beer had been tucked in the cooler. Nadia had contributed and chilled several bottles of Stolichnaya “wotka,” which she referred to as the “Neketar of the Gods” and offered around for a birthday toast. Cookies, brownies, and birthday cupcakes as well as what remained of that morning’s birthday cake had been plated for dessert.

  Emma lined up behind Zoe, who glowed with excitement. Her hair had been drawn into a messy knot at the nape of her neck. Her makeup was subtle, a soft blush on her cheekbones, her lips stained a warm red. Her emerald green eyes framed in sooty lashes sparkled with happiness. The crop top and patchwork skirt skimmed her curves without clinging and exposed her long graceful limbs as well as a small, tasteful rectangle of skin just above her waist. Mackenzie stood behind Emma.

  Ryan, who’d been helping his father, placed a small rack of ribs on Zoe’s plate.

  “Hang on!” Serena stepped up and raised her phone. “Let me get a shot of that.”

  Zoe blushed prettily as Ryan moved closer for the shot.

  “Perfect!” Serena shifted slightly to snap a photo of the line as Zoe and Ryan carried their plates to the beach.

  “Here you go.” Jake put a small rack of ribs on Emma’s plate and shot her a wink, which Serena duly documented. “There’s hot and mild sauce over on the table,” he added. “As I recall you’re a hot and spicy girl.”

  Emma laughed. “You do say the sweetest things.” She batted her lashes much as Serena had demonstrated that morning and channeled a little Georgia Goodbody of her own. Tonight was for enjoying. Tomorrow, well, tomorrow would come soon enough.

  “Well done,” Serena said after capturing the shot. “Thank God you’ve remembered how to flirt. I’m thinking that’s a sign that someone’s feeling better.”

  Jake handed Serena a plate of ribs then filled one for Mackenzie. While the two didn’t exactly throw their arms around each other and announce a formal truce, they weren’t aiming poison darts at each other, either. The three of them made their way to the table.

  Zoe’s laughter carried to them from the beach. Emma looked and saw her daughter leaning toward Ryan and looking up at his smiling face.

  “She looks so adorable in that outfit,” Emma said to Mackenzie as they neared the table. “And I know what a great time she had working on it with you.”

  “It was fun. She’s very talented.” Mackenzie dropped her eyes and Emma could see how eager she was to change the subject. Did she think of the child she never had every time she looked at Zoe? If anyone should have been a mother, it was Mackenzie. But life rarely turned out the way it “should” as she knew firsthand. And it was rarely fair.

  “
May I say that I think both of those Richards men are very hot?” Serena asked.

  “You may,” Emma replied, more than happy to keep things light. “Though I’d feel a little more comfortable if Zoe’s first date was with someone slightly less attractive and polished than Ryan. A little social awkwardness can go a long way.”

  “So you’d rather your daughter go out with a character actor than a leading man?” Serena asked.

  “Absolutely,” Emma replied.

  “I agree with Em,” Mackenzie said. “Even at our ages, an Ethan Miller, say, is a better and safer choice than a Brooks Anderson.”

  Emma noticed that this time it was Serena who dropped her eyes. The plot thickened. “Speaking of Brooks, why didn’t you invite him?” Emma asked.

  “When you nap too much you miss the occasional minidrama.” Serena sighed contemplating the plate of ribs before finally meeting Emma’s eye. “He’s done a bit of a vanishing act. And the last time I tried to reach him his wife answered the phone.”

  “But I thought his marriage was over,” Emma said.

  “Yeah, me too.” Serena frowned. “But as Mackenzie has pointed out, even when I think I’m not dating married men, I’m dating married men.”

  Emma considered both women. Was it Mackenzie’s observations about Brooks that had set them off that morning? Whatever had happened she was not going to disturb the fragile peace between them.

  They fell silent as they helped themselves to coleslaw and potato salad. Adam and Jake chatted next to the grill, pausing to accept a shot glass of Stoli from Nadia. The three raised and clinked their glasses. “Nostrovia!” Adam laughed and slammed the shot glass down triumphantly.

  “Maybe you should check with Brooks and not just take her word for it,” Emma said to Serena.

  “His wife was in his hotel room, Em. She said he was in the shower and couldn’t come to the phone.” Serena shivered at the memory. “Even if she was lying, they’re not exactly uninvolved in each other’s lives.”

  Serena composed her features, but Emma could see how much effort it took to hide the hurt. She wondered how Serena’s disappointment would come into play when Emma dropped her bombshell tomorrow. Whose side would Serena come down on when the shit hit the fan?