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“You should have seen it,” Ken boasted. “I had those guys eating out of the palm of my hand. The best wine. Steaks so tender you could cut ’em with a butter knife. Then Marcie here has to go and ruin it all by bringing in these little cups of pudding.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what she was thinking.”
“It was chocolate mousse with shaved white chocolate on top, not pudding,” she said defensively. “And in case you didn’t notice, they ate every bite and asked for seconds, so I’d have to say it was a hit.”
“They ate it to be polite,” Ken scoffed.
“I’m sure it was delicious,” Emily said loyally. “Marcie knows more about entertaining than most people will ever know.”
“Thank you,” Marcie said, feeling her cheeks flushing at the praise. Or maybe it was from embarrassment that her husband was demeaning her in front of their friends.
“I don’t suppose you have any of that mousse left,” Derek asked wistfully. “It’s one of my favorites. Needless to say, Emily never makes it.”
“Yes, needless to say,” Emily said, shooting him a grateful look. “I did make instant pudding a couple of weeks ago.”
Ken frowned at both of them and their attempt to elevate Marcie’s efforts.
“I still think some fancy soufflé would have impressed them more,” Ken grumbled, then brightened. “The bottom line, though, is that the next day they signed on the dotted line. Biggest account I’ve reeled in yet. I’m telling you that vice presidency is mine.”
“You’ve worked hard enough for it,” Marcie said, relieved that he’d dropped the topic of her cooking. “You certainly deserve it.”
“Damn straight,” Ken said. He looked at Derek, and for an instant there was none of the usual bluster in his voice, when he said, “Maybe you can give me some pointers on how to handle the boss to make sure I get the job. You’ve been a vice president at Jankovich and Davis for a while now, right?”
“A couple of years,” Derek said. “Only thing I can tell you is to work hard and do your job. Go above and beyond whenever the opportunity presents itself. In the end that’s the kind of thing that gets their attention.”
Ken looked flustered. “You didn’t spend a lot of time schmoozing with ’em, telling ’em you were the right guy for the job?”
“Not really,” Derek said, then added diplomatically, “but they’re two different companies, Ken. I’m dealing with international sales. You’re dealing with public relations. You know how things work with the people in charge where you are. You have to use the tactics that work under those conditions.”
Ken nodded. “Flash and dazzle, that’s what works with my boss,” he said confidently. “In PR, it’s all about the sizzle, you know what I mean?”
Derek grinned. “I know exactly what you mean.”
Marcie sat back and relaxed for the first time since the discussion had started. For once it seemed the two men were on the same wavelength. With any luck that would last through dessert.
And tonight she’d been smart enough to bake Ken’s favorite cake with caramel frosting. It had taken forever to get the caramel just right, but it would be worth it if he ended the evening with a smile on his face.
Sometimes it seemed she spent as many hours of her day trying to please her husband as Ken spent trying to win the praise of his bosses. In that regard, they both had tough jobs.
There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d ever admit it, but sometimes she envied Emily, whose identity clearly wasn’t all tied up in gaining her husband’s approval. There’d been a time when Marcie had actually known exactly who she was—a pretty girl from a modest background who was smart, but far from brilliant, and more interested in cooking and baking than the corporate world. She’d also known what she’d wanted out of life. She wanted to marry an ambitious man with potential, have a family and enough money to buy not only the things they needed, but the things they wanted. She’d thought she’d won the lottery when she married Ken, but lately she wondered if she hadn’t given up more than she’d gotten.
She glanced over at Ken and wondered what had happened to the handsome guy who’d pursued her with the same single-minded determination he now used to chase down new accounts at work. He was still good-looking, still driven, but increasingly it seemed he was taking her for granted. Maybe that’s what happened after ten years of marriage, but sometimes she longed for the days when he couldn’t keep his hands off her, when he used his charm on her, not on everyone except her.
She sighed and focused her attention on the conversation, which had returned to football as Derek and Ken debated the Dolphins’ chances for making the Super Bowl and lamented bygone days under Coach Don Shula. She glanced across the table and saw that Emily was just as bored as she was.
“Time for dessert?” she inquired brightly. “It’s chocolate cake with caramel frosting.”
“From some can?” Ken asked in a scathing tone.
She gave him a chiding look. “Have you ever known me not to make it from scratch?”
His expression brightened. “Okay, then. I’ll take a piece. A big one.”
“Me, too,” Derek said just as eagerly. “Nobody bakes the way you do, Marcie.”
“Certainly not in our house,” Emily agreed unapologetically.
Marcie marveled at the exchange. Derek’s tone hadn’t held even a hint of implied criticism of his wife and Emily’s response had been just as easygoing. Why couldn’t Ken speak to her or about her the same way? And why couldn’t she make herself speak up if his attitude bothered her so much?
Knowing she wouldn’t find an answer to that tonight, she pushed the topic aside and went inside with Emily to cut the cake. At least she’d gotten that right.
Chapter 3
“Mom, can Caitlyn spend the night?” Dani asked Emily on Friday. “Please. It’s not a school night and her mom says it’s okay with her if it’s okay with you.”
Emily thought of her plans to try to bring some order to the chaos around the house. She’d even had some crazy idea about enlisting the kids to clean up their own messes before their dad came home tomorrow after two weeks on the road for business. She gazed at Dani’s hopeful expression and sighed.
“Sure, why not?” she said. “We’ll order pizza.”
“And we can watch videos and have popcorn?” Dani asked.
“I assume that means a trip to choose the movies,” she said, resigned to going back out on the hot, humid evening. Late September was just as bad as July when it came to the Miami weather.
Dani grinned. “Uh-huh. She gets to pick one and I get to pick the other one. That’s what we decided.”
Emily shook her head. Dani always had a plan and it was always fair. “Fine. We’ll go as soon as Caitlyn gets here.”
Dani threw her arms around Emily’s waist. “Thanks. You’re the best! I’ll call her now.”
Emily watched her daughter race up the stairs. She was nine now and she’d overcome all her reservations about being friends with a girl two years younger. She and Caitlyn were as close as sisters. That they chose to spend most of their time here, rather than in the Carters’ far more organized household still bemused Emily, but she had to admit that most of the time she enjoyed having all the kids underfoot. Caitlyn and Evan were both polite and well behaved. They set a good example for her own kids.
She glanced out the back door and saw Josh and Evan horsing around in the pool. Sliding open the back door, she called to her son, who trotted over.
“Caitlyn’s spending the night with Dani. Do you want to ask Evan to stay, too?”
“Awesome,” Josh said at once. “Hey, Evan, Caitlyn’s staying over and Mom says you can stay, too, if you want to.”
“Count me in,” Evan called back.
“Ask your mom,” Emily reminded him. “As soon as Caitlyn gets here we’re going out to get videos to watch. You guys can come, too, and pick your own.”
“Thanks, Mrs. D,” Evan said. “I’ll be right back.”
Already tall for his age, Evan pushed himself out of the pool with an athletic grace that Josh didn’t possess. Much as her son enjoyed sports, he didn’t have the raw talent that Evan had. Thankfully, though, the two boys weren’t especially competitive. Josh just enjoyed playing the game, whatever it was on any given day, and was happy enough to see his friend excel at it. Josh seemed to have inherited her laid-back personality, rather than his dad’s competitive, ambitious one.
As she stepped back inside, Emily heard the phone ringing. Before she could reach it, Dani apparently grabbed it upstairs, then shouted, “Mom, it’s for you! It’s Mrs. Carter.”
Emily picked up the portable phone and sat at the kitchen table. “Hey, Marcie. How are you?”
“Fine, but wondering why on earth you’d let yourself in for having Evan and Caitlyn over after working all week. You must be exhausted and sick to death of kids.”
“I don’t mind. And your kids are never any trouble.”
“You’re sure you weren’t trapped into going along with this? I know how persuasive Dani can be when she’s on a mission.”
“Absolutely not. What are you and Ken up to this evening?”
“Ken has a business dinner, so I’m on my own.”
“Then come on over with Evan and Caitlyn. You and I can watch our own movies and drink some wine.”
“Really? You’re not too tired?”
“To watch a chick flick that Derek would rather eat worms than see?” Emily asked. “Never.” Besides, she’d heard the note of loneliness in Marcie’s voice and recognized it all too well. She’d learned to cope with Derek’s absences, but Marcie was completely at sea when Ken was out of the house. She’d tried to talk to her once about finding some interests aside from Ken and the kids, but Marcie always claimed she was perfectly content and had more than enough to keep herself occupied.
“Where is Derek, by the way? Won’t he object to all the commotion?”
“He’s still in Brazil. He won’t be home till late tomorrow.”
“Great!” Marcie said. “Gosh, that sounded awful. I know you miss him. I meant it was great that we can have an evening to ourselves. I’ll bring the chocolate. I baked brownies today. A lot of brownies. I was bored.”
“Good luck for me,” Emily said with enthusiasm, though the further evidence of Marcie’s discontent struck her once more. “See you soon. You can come with us to the video store to pick out the movies.”
By the time she’d hung up, Emily already felt rejuvenated. Movies, wine and chocolate with a friend and her kids and their friends upstairs. What could be better than that? It would certainly be a huge improvement over the lonely evening she’d been anticipating, one in a long string of lonely evenings that had become the norm as Derek’s job kept him away for longer and longer periods of time. She might have adjusted to the stretches of being on her own with the kids, but that didn’t mean she liked it. And unlike Marcie, she knew that sooner or later she was going to have to do something about fixing it.
“What on earth are you doing?” Emily demanded a few weeks later when she found Josh in the backyard with a pair of hedge clippers attacking the bougainvillea that separated their yard from the Carters.
“Evan and me need a path,” he explained.
“Evan and I,” she corrected automatically.
He looked up at her, his expression blank. “Huh?”
Emily sighed. It was a wonder she kept her job, when she couldn’t even get her own kids to speak proper English. “Why do you and Evan need a path? You can walk around the block.”
“It’s too far. We’ve been trying to crawl through the hedge, but this stuff has thorns.”
“So you decided to chop it down without asking permission?”
“Dad said it was okay,” he replied, snipping away more of the thick hedge with its brilliant fuchsia flowers that thrived in the South Florida heat and humidity.
She doubted Derek had any idea what he’d agreed to. He’d probably been on the computer or absorbed in paperwork, which was how he spent the few days he was at home anymore. Whatever he’d said to Josh was more conversation than she and her husband had had lately. She was growing tired of feeling like a single parent most of the time, only to have her authority usurped the moment Derek made a rare appearance at home. It was something they needed to discuss, but she couldn’t even figure out how to manage that when he rarely came to bed before midnight and fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. They hadn’t had a night out on their own for months now. If he’d been a different kind of man she’d have wondered if he was having an affair, but she knew his work was his only mistress. Accepting that didn’t seem to stop the increasing resentment she was feeling.
She took one more look at the gaping hole in the hedge and shook her head. On the bright side, it would take her less time to wander over to sit in Marcie’s pristine kitchen with a cup of her special-blend coffee and a slice of her homemade key lime pie. Lately that had become her refuge from the emptiness she felt every day when she got home from school and faced one more night on her own.
On her bad days, she envied Marcie. She was everything Emily was not. She thrived on being a housewife, a roommother in her kids’ classrooms, an officer in the PTA. Her spotless house could have been a designer showcase. There wasn’t a speck of dust that Emily had ever seen, much less a magazine out of place, a dirty glass in the sink or smelly socks or sneakers tossed on the floor. By comparison, the best that could be said of Emily’s home was that it looked lived in. The last time she’d baked, she’d burned the chocolate-chip cookies. Dirty clothes overflowed the baskets in the laundry room and dishes were left wherever anyone set them down until Emily rounded them up.
Back inside, she headed for Derek’s office and found him punching numbers into a calculator. When she spoke, his head snapped up and he muttered a curse at the interruption.
“Sorry,” she said. “I thought maybe we could talk.”
“I’m in the middle of something.”
“You’re always in the middle of something. Do I need to make an appointment to get on your calendar?” She couldn’t seem to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
It hadn’t always been like this. When she and Derek had met in college, she’d admired his drive and ambition. They’d spent long hours talking about his goal of owning his own company someday, not just some little mom-and-pop business, but a corporation. Her parents had been impressed with his single-minded determination, as well.
“He’ll go places,” her father had told her when she’d announced their engagement. “He’ll be a good provider.”
And he had been. He was vice president of sales at a multinational corporation based in Coral Gables. Their home off Old Cutler Road was in a neighborhood known for its lush landscaping, architectural diversity, upper-income families and good schools. She and their kids wanted for nothing.
If she longed for the kind of conversations they used to have or for the passion they’d once shared, maybe she was expecting too much. Maybe this was the way things were supposed to be after twelve years of marriage.
Then she thought of the affection still evident in her parents’ marriage after more than thirty years and knew she was wrong. She and Derek were missing the best years of their lives. They were occasional roommates, not partners.
“Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” she suggested impulsively, draping her arms around his neck from behind and leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. He smelled faintly of his favorite musky aftershave. “Just you and me. I’ll see if the kids can stay with the Carters.”
“I’m beat,” he said, linking his fingers through hers. “I don’t feel like going out. Invite the Carters over for a barbecue instead. We’ll throw some steaks or some salmon on the grill, hot dogs for the kids. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
Emily barely managed to contain a sigh. It wasn’t the evening she had had in mind, but it was a concession, especially since she knew Derek wasn’t all that crazy about Ken Carter. Truthfully, she wasn’t either. She didn’t like the way he put down his wife at every turn, mocking her devotion to him and the kids and their home, a devotion he himself demanded. She and Derek had discussed their mutual dislike of the man, but agreed to put it aside in the interest of neighborly harmony. Still, more and more they were keeping the contact to a minimum. She had her friendship with Marcie and the kids had their bonds, but recently the families maintained a more careful distance.
Sometimes she worried that Marcie was aware of how she and Derek felt, but it was the one subject they’d never discussed. She figured if Marcie had found some way to tolerate her husband’s demeaning behavior then it wasn’t Emily’s place to criticize him, any more than it was her place to question Marcie’s decision to build her entire life around her family, rather than building a separate identity of her own.
“If you’re so tired, are you sure you’re up to dealing with Ken tonight?” she asked Derek point-blank. He usually had little patience with him when he was in a great mood.
“I’ll just let him talk and tune him out,” Derek said. “Ken gives speeches. He doesn’t have conversations. That pretty much takes the pressure off me.”
She grinned at him. “Sometimes I wonder how Marcie can stand the man, but she seems blind to his faults.”
“Or maybe she’s learned to tune him out, too,” Derek suggested, a twinkle in his eye.
Emily chuckled. “You are so bad.”
“But you love me, anyway, right?” he said, turning to meet her gaze.
“Yeah, I do,” she said. Lost in the depths of his eyes, for a moment she remembered all the reasons why…his wicked sense of humor, the way he could make her feel with just a glance, the solidity of his devotion. “I really do. That’s why I wanted to spend the evening out with you.”
“Another time, I promise. When I get back from this next trip, things should slow down.”
She accepted the promise, because she had no choice. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Go call the Carters, then, but tell them we’ll need to make it an early evening, okay?”
“Sure,” she agreed, feigning enthusiasm. “I’ll see if they can come at six. Do you want time for a shower or should I just let you know when they get here?”
“I’ll run up in a little while and grab a shower and be down in time to start the grill,” he promised. “Then you can sit back and relax.”
Emily thought of the trip to the market she needed to make to pull off this impromptu gathering, the preparations required to stock the patio bar and have everything ready for the grill. She wasn’t Marcie, who could entertain at the drop of a hat. In her case, relaxation didn’t enter into it.
At least, though, she could look forward to some adult conversation, even if it wouldn’t necessarily be with her husband.
Marcie was on edge, though she couldn’t have said why. She was as comfortable at Emily’s as she was in her own house. Tonight, though, there was some kind of tension in the air that seemed worse than usual. Ken was trying too hard, as always, and Derek seemed to have less patience with him than ever. She’d even caught Emily rolling her eyes once behind Ken’s back. She’d almost called her on it, but she hadn’t wanted to start a discussion that might cause a real rift in their friendship.
There were times when she felt almost as competitive with Emily as Ken obviously did with Derek, and she felt petty for feeling that way. Despite everything Marcie did to create the perfect home, it was evident that her own kids preferred being over here. They didn’t seem to notice the clutter or care that the meals were more often takeout than homemade.
Right now they were all in the pool, shrieking at the top of their lungs as they played some silly game they’d devised, mainly to torture the girls as near as she could tell. Ken had told them to pipe down twice now, but Derek and Emily seemed oblivious to the noise. She figured the shouts would last another two minutes before Ken blew a gasket and ordered Evan and Caitlyn out of the water and spoiled things for everyone.
In an attempt to avert a scene, she stood up and walked over to the pool. “Evan, Caitlyn, you heard your father,” she said quietly. “Settle down.”
“We’re just having fun, Mom,” Caitlyn said, wiping her wet hair out of her face and looking up.
“You can have fun quietly,” Marcie said.
Evan scowled up at her. “Who put you in charge?” he asked belligerently. “We’re in Mr. and Mrs. D’s pool.”
Behind her, Marcie heard a chair scrape back. She froze, terrified that Ken was about to cause exactly the kind of commotion she’d been hoping to avoid. Instead, though, it was Emily who came up and slipped an arm through hers.
“Evan, that’s no way to speak to your mother,” Emily scolded gently. “And the decibel level is getting pretty loud. Maybe you guys should take a break and go inside for a while. We picked up a bunch of movies earlier today. Josh, why don’t you make some popcorn?”
“Sure, Mom,” he said with easygoing acceptance. He immediately climbed out of the pool and wrapped himself in a towel. “Come on, Evan, I got that action movie we missed.”
Evan gave Marcie one last scowl, but he followed Josh inside.
“Thanks,” Marcie said, when the kids were gone. “I don’t know why he listens to you but ignores everything I say.”
“Most kids would rather obey any other adult than their own parents,” Emily said. “I see it at school all the time. They’ll be sullen and unresponsive with their mom or dad, then turn right around and be sunny and polite to me.”
Marcie hesitated, then asked, “Evan’s never sassed you, has he?”
“Never,” Emily said.
“If he ever does, I want you to send him straight home. Don’t tolerate it, okay?”
“I will, but it’s never been a problem. I swear it. You’re a good mom, Marcie. Don’t ever question that. And both your kids are terrific.”
Marcie forced a grin. “Do you think if kids are this much trouble now, we’ll survive their teenage years?”
“Of course, we will. We’ll still be bigger and stronger—for a while anyway—and we’ll gang up on ’em,” Emily assured her. “Come on. Let’s go inside and put together that strawberry shortcake you brought over. My mouth’s been watering since you got here. I love strawberry season, don’t you?”
Marcie finally relaxed. “I drove down to the fields to get these. They were huge and sweet as candy.” She leaned in and confided, “I had a fresh strawberry shake while I was there.”
Emily laughed. “If you’re going to make that drive then you have to have a shake. It’s a rule. Maybe we can take the kids down to the Everglades next weekend and go for a hike on one of the trails. We can stop for a shake on the way back.”
“A hike?” Marcie asked warily. “Won’t there be bugs?”
“Not this time of year. Just alligators,” Emily teased, trying and failing to hide a grin.
“Is that supposed to reassure me?”
“Come on,” Emily said. “The boys will love it.”
“And the rest of us?” Marcie asked, still skeptical.
“Will survive by thinking about the strawberry shake we’ll have afterward.”
“Aren’t men supposed to take their sons on outings like that?” Marcie asked.
Emily merely stared at her. “Derek and Ken? You have to be kidding.”
Marcie gave in to the urge to laugh. “You have a point, though I’d pay big money to see it.”
“Me, too,” Emily agreed, handing her two dishes piled high with shortcake topped with huge strawberries and a mound of whipped cream, then picking up a tray with the other bowls herself. “Let’s go sweeten them up with dessert. Who knows what we’ll be able to talk them into after that.”
Paula, Emily’s favorite coworker at school, had just undergone breast cancer surgery and it had all of the female teachers jittery. There was a sudden interest in breast self-exams and a flurry of appointments being made for mammograms.
Shaken more than she liked admitting, Emily came home from visiting Paula at the hospital and headed straight for Marcie’s, where the coffee was waiting, along with a sympathetic ear.