“I’m going upstairs.” Suze stopped at the door. “I’ll be down for happy hour.”
Van was itching to get to work on her plans for the Crab, but she couldn’t very well leave Gigi sitting in the kitchen by herself any more than she could tell her it was time for her to go home. Besides, she wanted to make sure Bud was truly gone.
Chapter 13
DORIE RETURNED AROUND FIVE O’CLOCK, LOADED DOWN with plastic shopping bags. Suze and Van were sitting on the front porch sipping pomegranate martinis. Suze was reading, and Van was sketching some designs that she thought might work for the dining room at the Blue Crab. Gigi had gone home. Dana had declined to join them, even though Van had made a point of knocking on the door to her room. There was no reason to continue holding that particular grudge.
“Why didn’t you call?” Van said as she hurried to take some of the bags from Dorie. “I would have picked you up. What’s the point of a rental car if you don’t drive it?”
They carried the groceries into the kitchen and began unpacking them.
“Holy cow, are you expecting an army?”
“No, I just thought I might as well start stocking up for the winter.”
Suze peeked into one of the tins. “Yum, ravioli with vodka sauce.” She put the container down.
“Where’s Gigi?” Dorie asked.
“Had to go do something with the kiddies.”
“Do you girls want to invite her for dinner?”
“Maybe we should,” said Suze. “I think she is feeling a little left out.”
“She spent hours with us today,” Van said.
“I think it’s the ‘us.’ I may be wrong, but something she said while we were at the beach yesterday made me think she’s afraid I’m replacing her as most favored nation.”
“What?”
“In illiterate terms, she’s afraid you like me more than you like her.”
Van hesitated. Gigi was right. She and Van had been like sisters when they were younger, but now Van couldn’t find even a spark of what had once held them so close. She was much more in tune with Suze, even though they had different professions, lived in different cities, and hardly ever saw each other.
“Am I particularly dense?” Van asked. “Should we be worried about her? She burst into tears this morning in the middle of town, said Clay didn’t want her, that he fell off the roof on purpose and it was all her fault.”
“Her husband just died way too young,” Suze said. “She’s bound to be fragile—and maybe just a little guilty for what she perceives as something that she should have done or would have done. It’s a classic reaction.”
“Shoulda, woulda, coulda.”
Suze shrugged. “Maybe. Dorie?”
“She’s had a lot on her plate for the last few years, but I doubt if Clay meant to kill himself if that’s what she’s thinking.” Dorie handed Van the bag of food. “Put that in the fridge, will you? Suze, could you pour me one of those red drinks?”
“We ran into Bud on our way home,” Van said as she put the food away.
“Close encounter of the worst kind,” Suze agreed as she poured Dorie a martini.
“Where?”
“On the sidewalk in front of the house.”
“Where’s Dana?”
“Upstairs,” Van said. “I asked her if she wanted to come down for happy hour, but she said no . . . through the door.”
“I know she’s not your favorite person, but Gigi isn’t the only one around here who could use a friend.”
“Van has tried, we both have . . . a little,” Suze said. “Dana just doesn’t make it easy.”
“Well, put yourself in her place.”
“I’d never let a man or anyone do that to me,” Van said.
“Don’t you think Dana thought the same thing, once? Nobody goes out and plans to be abused,” Dorie said.
Or to be treated the way Harold treats you, Van thought.
“So she comes here, not for the first time, and instead of finding a soft place to land, she runs into you and Suze. Both successful and sophisticated.”
“Me?” Suze barked out a resounding laugh. “I’m changing to wine; this sweet stuff is making me hear things. Where did I put that corkscrew?”
“Well, you are when you aren’t distracted,” Van said. “Which is hardly ever. It’s right where you left it last night. On top of the bread box.”
Suze stuck out her tongue. “But of course.”
Van smiled. “See, very sophisticated.”
Dorie put both hands on the table and frowned at them.
“Van, you ran out of town because of something you think Dana did.”
“Something she and Joe did.”
“Whatever. You left town, and no one hears anything about you for over ten years. Then suddenly you come back all dressed to the nines, sophisticated, manicured and saloned to near perfection.
“And Dana shows up at the door wearing cheap clothes and beaten to a pulp. She’s bound to feel humiliated and just a little defensive.”
Van tried to feel remorse, but she just kept thinking the words white trash. Except for Suze, they’d all come from pretty much the same background. Working-class families. They’d all had to work summers. Van and Dana also worked part-time after school.
Van had gotten out and made something of herself. Gigi had a family even if she was going through some bad times. What did Dana have? Would she still be getting made up and going to Mike’s to come on to the barflies when she was forty? Fifty? Van shivered. “Does she even work?”
Dorie nodded. “Now she works part-time at the Blue Crab.”
“You gave her a job?”
“She lost her job at the nail place because the clients complained about the bruises.”
“That’s awful, but you can’t really blame them. What about the diners? Those bruises and cuts could definitely put you off your food.”
“She’s been working in the kitchen, but she’ll have to move out front this weekend.”
Suze came back to the table carrying the corkscrew but no wine bottle. “Why doesn’t she get help?”
“I’ve tried. I know Joe has tried.” She shot a look at Van. “And it’s not what you think. He’s just a friend.”
Van waved her statement away.
“We’ve all got our lives to live. It helps if you’ve got some folks around you who want you to succeed.”
Yeah, Van could have used a few of those when she was creating a new life for herself in New York. But then she had, hadn’t she? Two of them were sitting right here at the table.
Dorie went upstairs to ask Dana to join them; she was gone for a while.
Suze set the table while Van got the food out of the fridge. “Think I should set four places in case Dorie talks her into coming down?”
“I guess. If she does come down and there are only three places, she’ll get all bent out of shape.”
Suze pointed a handful of forks at her. “You’re determined not to cut her any slack.”
“I told you, I’m not holding a grudge. But I’m not going to act like one big happy family, no matter what Dorie wants. I take full responsibility for what I did, but it doesn’t mean that I forgive them for what they did. Though in a way I’m glad I found out just how faithful Joe would be before I ended up milking cows as a way of life.”
Suze shrugged. “I wonder what’s taking Dorie so long?”
“Old age,” Dorie said, banging through the door, just like she was at the Blue Crab during the dinner rush.
“Guess you didn’t convince her to come down?”
“She’s having some pain. I gave her a couple of aspirin.”
They sat down to dinner. The fourth place setting sat empty while they ate; the symbolism wasn’t lost on any of them.
As soon as dinner was over and the dishwasher was loaded, Suze went upstairs to “do some research” and, Van thought, probably worry about the forthcoming grant. Dorie went to check on Dana.
Van
sat on one of the porch chairs, nursing a cup of coffee even though the night was muggy and hot and the citronella candle did little to chase away the mosquitoes.
Life was weird. Here was Suze, from an überrich family, wanting to live at Dorie’s old beach house on her own earnings. Gigi was back living at her parents’ house with her children. Dana was hiding out at Dorie’s.
And Van herself? She was supposed to be on a vacation that she hadn’t wanted to take and at a place she’d picked at random. And here she was, spending her time off in Whisper Beach to work on revitalizing the Blue Crab.
Inside, the telephone rang. Van heard Dorie answer it, talk for a few minutes.
Dorie stuck her head out the front door. “That was Amelia. She wanted to know if Gigi was making a nuisance of herself.”
Van sat up. “Did she really say that?”
“You know Amelia.”
“All too well. What did you tell her?”
“That Gigi needed to be with her friends.”
“And?”
“Well, Amelia has always been the one who knows best . . . about everything . . . but she finally conceded that Gigi had been showing more life in her since—well, let’s not say since the funeral—but since you and Suze came.”
“Great. Make me feel responsible.”
“Anyway, I suggested she let Gigi come for a bit during the day, and she agreed as long as she got home to put the kids to bed.”
“Wait a minute,” Van said, turning fully to look at Dorie. “Why does this sound like a playdate?”
“Because Gigi is not thinking straight these days. She’s fallen into a stupor. We’ve all been there, where you just couldn’t get motivated.”
“Dorie. When were you ever not motivated?”
“There’ve been times,” she said vaguely. “And if you haven’t gotten to that point yet, I hope you don’t ever. I’m going to bed now. I’m beat.”
“Dorie?”
“Uh-huh?”
“I can help streamline your business if you want. Not the financial and ordering but organization of the kitchen and front of house. But it will take some work, and maybe some things that you won’t agree with.”
“I’m counting on it. Hell, if it works, I’m for it.”
Van grinned. “You are a piece of work, you know that?”
“And proud of it. But are you going to be around long enough to do it?”
“It won’t take long, but we’ll need bodies. I’ll try to enlist Suze and Gigi, but I need a few strong guys.”
“I’ve got ’em. Are you sure you want to spend your vacation working?”
“It’s not work to me. And, besides, I have some other stuff to do here.”
“Oh?”
Van automatically held up her hand. “I’m not going to renew old acquaintances, or go dredging up the past, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I have to decide what to do with the house.” A little twist of pain clutched her gut as she remembered how spotless the house was and how empty of any bit of her father’s presence. “Whether I offer it to Gigi or sell it, it has to be dealt with. I don’t want to be responsible for Gigi refusing to take charge of her life, or to keep her dependent on me or anyone else.”
“Gigi has always been dependent on her family and friends.”
“Things didn’t change when she married Clay?”
“Evidently not; seems she just transferred her dependence to him.”
“Is that what happened? She—I don’t know—acts like she’s still a girl.”
Dorie cackled. “Honey, you’re all still girls. Just wait till you see what’s waiting for you down the pike. Gigi is not your responsibility, but you do what you feel is right for you about the house.” She yawned. “If anybody needs me, I’ll be watching the Late Night News in my room.”
“Good night.” Van stretched back on the cushion, tucked her feet up under her, and listened to the sounds that floated up from the beach. The distant hush of waves. The thread of music from the pizza joint that stayed open most of the year. A shouted greeting. But it all sounded far away.
Van felt a strange kind of calm. She didn’t trust it. Was it true calm or just the calm before the storm? She didn’t think she’d ever be able to fully relax or feel comfortable in Whisper Beach again. Always a memory, or perhaps a living person, was waiting to ambush her.
All the more reason to deal with the house. That would be her last real tie to the town. Dorie and Gigi could always come to the city. She might even phone them now and again. Suze was just a train ride away. But that was it. The others—her father, Joe, and Dana—would become part of a distant and blurry past.
But first she would reorganize the Blue Crab, as a gift for all the things that Dorie had done for her.
The front door opened.
Van glanced up, expecting Suze or Dorie.
It was Dana. She didn’t say anything but sat down on the chair across from Van.
The silence stretched, but since Van didn’t know why Dana had come out or why she’d sat down, she waited.
Dana finally cleared her throat. Maybe it was hard to talk. Maybe Bud had tried to strangle her. “You know, you were my best friend.”
Van was sure she must be hearing things.
Dana as best friend? None of them had even really liked her that much. She could be fun, and she knew where to buy liquor and find the rich boys, but none of them really trusted her not to forget them when she found something or someone more interesting. Leave them stranded when she suddenly got a chance to leave a party with some guy who had a car.
Best friend? Was Dana rewriting history? Or was she setting Van up for another sucker punch? How could she trust Dana after all she had done?
“I know you probably don’t believe me. And you probably didn’t even like me, even then, but you were the only person who was nice to me. I mean really nice.”
And look what it got me, thought Van.
“I know you hate me, I don’t blame you. I don’t like myself much either.”
Van was tempted to say that was obvious since she let Bud beat up on her like she did. No woman with any self-respect would let that happen. Though maybe Dana didn’t have self-respect. That would account for a lot.
“It wasn’t my fault. What happened.”
Van sat back. “I was wondering when you’d get back to that. Whose fault was it, Joe’s?”
“No, yours.”
“Oh, that’s rich.”
“You got mad at him for flirting with me. I flirted with everybody. No big deal.”
“Look, I don’t want to talk about it. It’s over. I’ve gotten on with my life. I have a good life. So let’s just leave it at that, okay?”
“You shouldn’t have given up on him so easy. He didn’t want me or anyone else. Just you.”
Van surged to her feet. “Okay, that’s enough. It’s ancient history. Let’s just call it done and start over from here.”
“You mean it?”
“Yeah. Truce. Okay?
“Okay. Thanks.”
“I’m going to bed.” Van headed to the door, looked back long enough to say good night, and went inside.
Best friend. Gigi was her best friend, at least had been. But Gigi, for all her clueless ways, was no dummy. She’d picked up on the fact that there were things between Suze and Van that brought them closer, and that left Gigi out. So maybe Suze was her best friend now. Though that seemed odd since they never saw each other or even talked. But Van was too busy with work to go out and find best friends. She barely had time to see associates and clients. Some of them were friends. Acquaintances.
But Dana? Best friend?
A ridiculous idea from the woman who had been the girl who’d stolen her boyfriend and started Van on a downward spiral that . . . that had actually turned out all right—more than all right—in the long run.
Most of it, anyway. Part of her should thank them for driving her into the larger world. But the rest wasn’t so silly. It may not
have been Joe and Dana’s fault, but she wasn’t ready to completely forgive and forget.
Part of her would never be whole again.
“JERRY ON DUTY tonight?” Joe asked Hal Daniels as he slid onto a stool at Mike’s.
“Yep. I just stopped in for a quick one on my way home.”
“Well, you sure are gracing our establishment a lot these days,” Mike said, placing a beer in front of Joe. “Think I’ve seen you in here more this last week than I have all summer.”
Joe took his beer. “My cupboard is bare. And frankly the marina apartment is getting a little claustrophobic.”
“Not to mention the stench. I can smell it all the way up here,” Mike said. “Makes old beer smell like perfume.”
“Guess you’ll be glad to get back to the vineyard,” Hal said.
“Yeah, I really will. Sort of.”
“You seen any of Van since she’s been back?”
Mike leaned over the bar, listening.
“I’ve talked to her a couple of times.”
“Talked? That the best you can do?”
“Well, yeah. We haven’t seen each other in years, and she’s dealing with a lot of stuff right now.”
“Like what?” Mike asked.
“Like just being back here,” Hal told him. “Some serious shit went down between her and Dana and Joe.”
“Do we really have to rehash all that ?” Joe asked.
“No, but speaking of Dana.” Mike stopped to wipe a glass.
“What?” Hal and Joe said simultaneously.
“Bud was in here earlier looking for her.”
“That all?” Hal went back to his beer.
“Did he find her?” Joe asked.
Mike shook his head. “Nope. Guess she’s done a bunk.”
“Well, good for her,” Joe said. “I hope she stays away.”
“Me too,” Mike said. “ ’Cause if Bud finds her . . .”
“Do you know where she is?”
“I ain’t seen her. And I don’t want to. He’s nuts tonight.”
Joe nodded. “He’s nuts every night.”
“Well, more so tonight. He was looking for you, too.”
“Me?”
“He thinks you encouraged her.”
“I did. I always do. Don’t you?”
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