Girls' Night Out_A Novel

by Liz Fenton

  “No way—you did not hurt Ashley. Do you hear me? You did not suppress some violent act. You can’t even kill a spider. Remember when Lucy was freaking out about the one in the bathtub? She was saying, ‘smash it, kill it!’ And you refused. You put him in a cup and released him into our backyard.”

  Natalie started weeping at the memory. What she wouldn’t give to be there right now saving her children from eight-legged creatures. “Thank you, Ben. I needed you to say you believed me.”

  “Of course I do,” he said. “Have you remembered anything else?”

  I am so done. Done letting you control my choices. Letting you control me. Her own voice in her mind was shrill and tight. She almost didn’t recognize it as her own.

  Natalie pushed down the memory. “No,” she said, rubbing her temples. Even though fragments of the night were coming back, none of them made sense. Like a puzzle missing most of its pieces. And she wasn’t about to say she’d been at the cenote—not until she had more context. The last thing she needed was her own husband losing faith in her innocence. Even though she might doubt herself, she wouldn’t be able to handle it if he did too.

  Her limbs were heavy from exhaustion. “Ben, can you take care of getting a lawyer for me? I just can’t. I feel like I’m going to have a mental breakdown.”

  “I’ll call Arthur and get a referral. And I’m going to catch a red-eye there,” he said, then paused. “I’ll charge it on the Mastercard—it has a little room left,” he finally said, so quietly Natalie barely heard him.

  “No—” Natalie made a feeble protest, ignoring the reference to their money problems. She couldn’t think about that right now.

  “I’ll call my sister and see how soon she can get here,” he said.

  Her hands were trembling. She needed him.

  “What the hell do I say to the girls? They just saw me start to lose it.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.” She felt so empty—she hoped he could find the words for them on his own.

  Head pounding, she forced herself to work out the details with Ben before hanging up, then sank into the bed she’d shared with Ashley only four nights ago, which now felt like forever ago. Almost like she’d never been here at all. She fingered the little white pill Maria had forced into her hand earlier. “To sleep,” she’d whispered in her ear. “You need rest.” Natalie placed it in her mouth and swallowed it without water, staring at the ceiling until her eyes could no longer stay open.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  THE NIGHT

  ASHLEY

  Ashley lay back in the warm cenote water and let it envelop her body and her spirit. Marco swam toward her, his movement causing the water to lap around her face.

  “Take your power back,” he said as the sound of her breath pounded in her ears. “Ask for forgiveness,” he reminded her, every inch of her tingling as the balché flowed through her limbs. “Let the water heal you,” he said as she opened her eyes and stared up at the pitch-black sky. She focused on a lone star shining brightly.

  She felt Marco’s arms underneath her back and relaxed into him, her body feeling light. She imagined her mind as a chalkboard that had been wiped clean, the dusty eraser sitting nearby. Please forgive me, she repeated to herself over and over, even though she wasn’t totally sure whose absolution she wanted most. Lauren’s. Natalie’s. Jason’s? Hannah and Abby’s? Her own?

  Natalie’s voice pulled her out of her meditation. She eased away from Marco and craned her neck toward the top of the cenote where Natalie stood. Natalie shone her flashlight into Ashley’s face again, and she flinched in the light. She tried to make out Nat’s image, but the light had temporarily blinded her. She was telling Ashley to get out, that she wanted to go back to the hotel.

  “Get out now,” Natalie said again.

  Ashley was finally able to focus, the splotches of light that dotted her vision fading. She saw Natalie stumble, the flashlight falling from her hand and rolling over the edge of the cenote. She heard it crash against something on the other side of the cenote.

  “It hit the rocks,” Marco said.

  That could have been Natalie. Ashley felt heavy, but she forced herself to swim back toward the ladder. She needed to get Natalie away from the edge. To keep her safe. “Stay here. She’s fine. You need to relax for the balché to work,” Marco said, but she continued toward Natalie.

  “You need to be careful up here. You saw what just happened to your flashlight. I couldn’t handle it if it had been you, Nat,” Ashley said when she reached the top of the ladder and climbed out.

  Natalie didn’t respond—she stared straight ahead.

  “Hey,” Ashley said, her tongue suddenly thick. “I care about you.” She reached for Natalie’s arm—she was still standing too close to the edge. “Here, let’s move away from there.”

  “Come back in,” Marco called from below, but Ashley didn’t respond. “You should be meditating.” He’d pulled her aside at his apartment and asked her to leave with him tonight—to not go back to her home in Santa Monica but instead to go away with him, an idea he’d been bringing up all week. Think of the life we could live together, he’d said over and over. When you leave everything behind, you will truly become free.

  But freedom had a large price tag. To leave everything behind would mean her girls, her company, Natalie. But in moments like now, when it didn’t seem like she could pull Natalie back to her—literally or figuratively—when she’d already lost Lauren, she wondered. Could she go through with it? And would anyone even miss her if she did?

  “I said I cared about you. Did you hear me?” Ashley said.

  “I did,” Natalie said.

  “I want to make things right between us.”

  “Can we not do this now?” Natalie sighed. “I’m tired. I want to go back to the hotel. We have an early flight.”

  “Soon, I promise. But he’s still guiding me through it,” Ashley said, her head feeling foggy. She was starting to wrestle with the idea that maybe she should go away. Was that what the universe was telling her to do? Was that the clarity that was going to take shape?

  “So how do you feel? Like all of your problems have, whoosh, disappeared?” Natalie flicked her fingers.

  “I don’t know yet—it’s just starting to take effect,” Ashley said, feeling strangely liberated. Like any choice she made would be the right one.

  “What is it about Marco?” Natalie whispered. “I feel like you’re on a reckless path.”

  “That’s why I took the balché, Nat. Because I don’t want to be,” Ashley said, but her words were echoing in her head. She took a deep breath so she could focus. “Why don’t you drink the other bottle? Or even just half? Look, I’m fine.”

  Natalie hesitated. Ashley watched as she glanced over to where Marco had left the other bottle, on a rock not far from where they stood. Natalie walked over and picked it up, running her thumb over the glass.

  “I told you, I don’t feel comfortable if both of us are high; then we’ll both be vulnerable to—”

  “Forget Marco—look at him. If he wanted to rape us or hurt us, he’s strong enough to do so. And it would have happened by now. He could have drowned me down there. What would you have done from up here?” She smiled.

  “Has something happened between you two? Is that why you defend him so much?” Natalie twisted her mouth into a frown.

  “No,” Ashley said. She needed her to know that. She had felt something this week, but she realized now it wasn’t a physical attraction to Marco. It was the pull toward a different reality. He had so many promises of good things, of changes, of a life where stress wasn’t the headliner. “We’re just friends.” She waited for Natalie to respond, but she didn’t. “Do the balché with me, Nat. Let’s be vulnerable together, let go of control. Let the universe weigh in.” She thought about what she really wanted from Natalie—to know honestly what was in her heart when her walls were torn down. Would she tell Ashley she still cared abou
t her too? That it hadn’t all been destroyed, like a sandcastle after high tide?

  “I don’t know. I feel like you’re not being honest with me about Marco—that you’re holding something back.”

  “Okay. Hanging out with Marco has given me a new perspective. Maybe what I like about him is that he’s given me the courage to think about leading a different life,” she added, trying out how it felt to say the words. She suddenly felt brave. Was it the balché?

  Natalie brightened, clearly misinterpreting her. Taking it as an olive branch, rather than what it was: a confession. “Does that mean you’re thinking of selling? Has the balché given you clarity to see that it’s the right choice?”

  She looked at Natalie’s face—how in just a split second it had gone from a scowl to a grin. How the color had rushed back to her cheeks. Even though the mere idea of selling was like a vise grip clamping down on Ashley’s chest, pressing the air out of her, she wanted her friend to be happy. She looked at Natalie and smiled.

  “This calls for a celebration!” Natalie opened the top of the bottle and drank the liquid before Ashley could respond.

  They sat together in silence for several minutes.

  Finally, Natalie spoke. “I think I can feel it already. Wow, it’s so strange and incredible all at the same time.”

  “Isn’t it?” Ashley said. “See, I would have never been able to explain it to you.”

  “Do you feel like you’re vibrating?” Natalie held out her arms.

  “Yes, that’s the energy of this place—it’s inside you now.”

  “Amazing,” Natalie said. “I can feel it in every muscle—every inch of me. Is this what pot is like? If so, I should have tried it.”

  “Ha. I don’t remember. It was so long ago. But I suspect this is much better than that,” Ashley said, feeling as if she were seeing the Natalie she’d missed for so long finally coming out. The Natalie who didn’t have her guard up all the time. The one who laughed easily. Who didn’t take everything so seriously. It had been months since she’d seen her.

  They stood up and looked at the moon for what felt like forever, Marco floating on his back peacefully below them. Ashley was just about to suggest they go into the cenote and join him when Nat spoke. “So what made you change your mind?” she asked.

  “About what?” Ashley asked. But she knew exactly what.

  “Revlon, silly.” Natalie elbowed her.

  Ashley sighed. “Let’s not talk about it right now; let’s talk about us. I want you to know something—I really want things to be good between us again. I want to be how we used to be. Before Revlon.”

  “So do I. And maybe now it can,” Natalie said. “We can spend more time together. I have plans to get involved in some charities, if you’re interested.”

  “Nat—” She had thought that she could let her believe she’d reconsidered. That they’d have a fun night and bond and then tomorrow she’d correct her—tell her what she really meant by starting a new life.

  Natalie turned, then recoiled, obviously reading the expression on Ashley’s face. She stepped backward and lost her balance again slightly, a few rocks falling over the side of the cenote. She righted herself.

  “Please step away from there. You could fall. There are sharp rocks all around the edge at the bottom.”

  “I can take care of myself.” She gave Ashley a hard look. “I can’t believe you lied to me.”

  “I didn’t lie, exactly. You just looked so happy, and I wanted that for you. I wanted to spend time with that Natalie. I was going to talk to you tomorrow and—”

  “Shatter me all over again?” Natalie clenched her jaw.

  “I just wanted you—the old you. Can’t you see I’m desperate for that?”

  “Then sell the company, and I promise you that carefree Natalie will hang out with you twenty-four seven.” Natalie stared at Ashley but she couldn’t respond. “She’ll meet you for coffee and spin class and PTA meetings wearing those overpriced yoga pants you love so much. Sell, and I’m yours.”

  “So you only want our friendship if I acquiesce to what you want? Because you’re not willing to give up what you want for me,” Ashley accused.

  “And neither are you, despite the fact that I’ve been doing it for years. When you wanted to hire that flighty web designer who never finished our website? Remember, you said she had a great energy, so we didn’t need to call her references? Or how about the time you browbeat me until we chose the logo you wanted for the BloBrush?”

  Ashley stood very still, staring. “That’s not fair.”

  “Isn’t it, though?” Natalie scoffed. “Name a time you’ve acquiesced! Just one!” When Ashley didn’t answer, she said, “You can’t, can you?”

  Ashley took a deep breath and tried to mentally push Natalie’s accusations away, the water from the cenote dripping from the hem of her jeans shorts. She wiped at her legs. She felt as if she were floating above her body. Finally able to see her life and what she wanted, objectively. She understood what Natalie wanted, but she also knew what she needed. Selling the company wasn’t a compromise. It would just be gone—never again theirs. But Natalie making changes to her involvement in the company, that was the logical solution. “Can I just explain? Explain why I don’t want to sell. I really did think about it. I did. Just like I promised.”

  “No,” Natalie said. “No,” she repeated louder.

  “You guys okay?” Marco called out. They both ignored him.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Ash stepped closer to Natalie so she could see her face better. “Why won’t you let me explain?”

  “I just know what you’re about to say, and I’m tired of hearing it.”

  Ashley pressed on anyway. “I’m sorry, Nat. I love you, but I can’t sell the company. I just can’t.”

  Natalie twisted her face. “Well, I’m super happy for you, Ash. I really am. But you know where that leaves me? With a shitload of very serious problems,” she spat. Her eyes were wide and glazed. Anger danced in her pupils.

  Ashley felt like she could actually see a flame reflected in Natalie’s eyes. She shook her head hard, trying to refocus. “What are you talking about?”

  “Selling BloMe is about more than me wanting more time with my family and being burned out. If we don’t agree to Revlon’s offer, I’m going to lose everything,” Natalie said, staring hard at Ashley without blinking.

  “What?” Ashley’s mouth fell open.

  “I’ll lose my house, every asset, everything I’ve worked so hard for. Maybe even my marriage. I can’t imagine Ben and I could survive it.” She looked away.

  “But what happened?”

  Natalie flapped her hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t matter. What should matter to you is my life is basically over if we don’t sell. So tell me, Ash, is your mind still made up?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  FOUR DAYS AFTER

  NATALIE

  “Natalie?”

  She heard her name, then a pounding on the door of her suite.

  Natalie tried to open her swollen eyes—her lashes sticking together as she pulled them apart.

  Ben? She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was 9:00 a.m. She’d been asleep for more than sixteen hours. She still felt like she was dozing, standing at the doorway of dreams and reality. Raising her head off the pillow, she willed herself to move toward Ben’s frantic voice. “Coming!” she tried to call out, but her mouth was so dry, the words seemed to disappear.

  She slowly made her way over and unlatched the lock. “You scared me,” Ben said, his eyes shining.

  Natalie’s chest warmed as she stared up at him. She hadn’t realized just how much she needed him here, next to her. Just his body filling the doorway was easing her. His light brown hair was sticking out from under a baseball hat. He was wearing a faded pair of cargo shorts, the scar from his ACL surgery peeking out. He had on his favorite Metallica T-shirt from a concert they’d seen together a million years ago, the cotton
soft and worn. She reached out and hugged him tightly, her cheek brushing against his broad chest.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay. I’ve been calling you since I landed in Cancún two hours ago. And I started imagining all of these scenarios. After Ashley . . . I just . . . my head went to the worst places,” he said into her shoulder.

  Natalie smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I worried you.” She pulled back to face him again. “I’m so glad you’re here.” And she was. It didn’t mean what he’d done was okay. And the truth was, it could very well still destroy their marriage. But in that moment she needed him urgently. She started to cry. She was surprised she still had tears left.

  “Me too,” he said, brushing a strand of her hair out of her eyes.

  She glanced at her phone plugged in next to the bed. “I think I had it on silent,” she said. “And Maria from the front desk gave me a sleeping pill. She’s been a godsend, taking care of me.”

  “I met her downstairs; she’s worried about you,” he said, kissing her softly on the lips, the taste of his coffee lingering. She turned to let him in and stumbled, she held out her arms and Ben grabbed them and steadied her. Something about the movement felt familiar. She leaned against him again and closed her eyes, sensing that the memory of what happened to Ashley was close, willing the door to her subconscious to swing open wide. She pressed to remember, but nothing more would come. She studied Ben, wondering suddenly how the girls were. How they’d taken the news of Ashley’s disappearance.

  “How did the girls react when you told them?” she asked.

  Ben’s face darkened. “They took it pretty hard. I felt terrible leaving them, but I told them you needed me here. They understood. My sister is keeping them home from school again today.”

  Natalie bit her lip to keep from crying again, but she began to shake, thinking of how scared Ashley’s children must be, what they were going through. Jason said they were in shock—his entire family had descended on their house, trying their best to shield them from the media that showed up at their door when the story of her death hit the news.