"Oh, that Angie doesn't bring her friends over here. That way, you don't have to play
mom."
Jill was about to protest but she didn't. It was the truth. Angie rarely brought her friends
over to the house. So she nodded. "I think she's afraid I'd have to haul them around in my
old car."
"It's no wonder she thinks you don't like her. You spend even less time with her than you
do your husband." She looked back over her shoulder. "See you tonight."
Alone again, Jill finished unpacking her groceries, trying not to let Arlene get to her. She
wasn't certain if she said things on purpose or if she was completely oblivious as to how
hurtful her words were.
Slamming the cabinet door harder than necessary, she stood there, hands tightly gripping
the counter. Without another thought, she grabbed her purse, going back outside into the
sunshine. Before she knew it, she was speeding down the street, driving automatically,
watching the familiar sights of their small city zip by as she headed out of town.
And toward the lake.
She didn't know how she knew it but something was guiding her, as if she was a puppet in a
play. She had no reason to think that Carrie would be at the cottage on a Saturday. Yet,
that's where she was headed, not for a moment questioning her reasoning.
That was why, a short time later, she was not surprised to find the gate open as she
bounced along the tiny road. She felt an instant wave of relief when she saw Carrie's blue
van parked in the driveway.
As she stood outside, she debated whether to use the front door or to go around the back
to the sunroom like they normally did.
"Well, what a pleasant surprise."
Jill turned at the sound of Carrie's voice, her smile matching that of the other woman.
"You know, if you leave your gate open like that, you never know who will drop by."
Carrie walked closer, her eyes turning serious. "Would you believe me if I told you I had
this ... this feeling that you'd come today?"
Jill let herself be pulled into Carrie's eyes. She nodded. "Yes, I would believe you." She
laughed lightly, pulling her eyes away from Carrie's, breaking the spell the woman seemed
to have on her. "We've really got to exchange phone numbers."
"Yes, we do." She pulled off her gardening gloves and wiped her hands on her jeans.
"Because this day is too beautiful not to share." She motioned for Jill to follow as she
walked through the picket fence and around to the back. "Let me wash up, then we can go
sit down at the pier."
"You're sure I'm not intruding?"
"Oh, absolutely not. It was just so pretty out, I thought it'd be a good day to start on the
flowerbeds." She went to the sink in the kitchen to wash and Jill pulled out a bar stool,
watching. "How did you sneak away?"
"Didn't have to sneak. There wasn't anyone at home."
"Oh yeah?"
Jill sighed. "Craig went to a basketball tournament in Richland." She waved her hand
dismissively. "He wanted me to go with him so we could spend some time together."
"And?"
"I declined. For one thing, I hate basketball. And two, as long as his cell phone is with him,
there's not a moment of down time."
"You hate basketball and he's a coach? How did that happen?"
"Football, basketball and baseball. He coaches all three. Football is the only one I have any
interest in. But he lives for them all."
"How in the world can he possibly coach all three?"
"Assistant coach in football, head coach in basketball. He's the hitting coach for the
baseball team. And yes, it takes up most of his time. Sports, period, take up most of his
time." She shook her head. "I don't mean to complain. He was like this when I married him.
I just thought he'd have outgrown it by now."
Carrie leaned on the bar with her elbows, watching Jill. When their eyes met, Jill tilted her
head.
"What?"
"I just think it's kind of odd that we both have husbands so busy with their own lives that
we've become almost an afterthought." She shrugged. "At least, that's how I feel
sometimes."
Jill nodded. "Exactly. Yesterday, when he took us out for lunch, his cell rang barely ten
minutes into it. I think he actually forgot I was even there. I had to ask him to end the call
just so he could take me back to work."
"I know what you mean. I think James would shrivel up and die if he lost his cell phone. But
I try not to complain. It wasn't all that many years ago where mine was the one constantly
ringing." She moved to the fridge and held it open, peering inside. "Have you had lunch?"
"No. You?"
"No. But I don't have much to offer." She smiled over the top of the door. "Cheese and
crackers that we had last week."
"That's fine."
"And I've got a bottle of wine. How about we spend the afternoon down at the pier?"
v o t e c i n e b l l ' t I . l u f r e d n o W " . d e s u a p n e h t , d o o t s l l i J " . e m i t e h t h c t a w o t g n i v a h t u o h t i w t i si"Or do you have to get back?"
Carrie shook her head. "I'm all yours."
"I can't believe she said that to you. My mother-in-law would never interfere like that,"
Carrie said. "Even though I'm sure she's wanted to on occasion."
"Most of my shortcomings usually involve Angie but today she was focusing on Craig too. I
really think the woman hates me."
"I'm telling you, it's because he's an only child. In her mind, no woman will ever be good
enough for her baby."
"I know. I keep telling myself that," Jill said, holding out her glass for Carrie to refill.
"Thanks. But I sometimes wonder if there's not some truth to what she says. We hardly
spend any time together as it is. And I mean, even though I hate basketball, shouldn't I be
more supportive and go to his games? I know other wives do."
"Did you in the beginning?"
Jill nodded. "Yeah. I used to make all the home games, at least. But it just became a chore.
Something I hated to do. I was resenting the fact that on my time, I felt obligated to
follow him around like some groupie." She laughed nervously. "God, that sounds so awful."
"It doesn't matter how it sounds. You should be able to voice your feelings, Jill."
"Yeah, but it sounds so selfish. I mean, what's wrong with me? Why don't I want to spend
time with him?"
"Is that what you think it is?"
"I don't know anymore."
Carrie looked out over the lake then stretched her legs out as she got more comfortable on
the bench. Jill turned sideways, watching her.
"I often wonder how my own marriage survived," Carrie said. "But in the beginning, I was
the one never at home. Every weekend, I was out showing houses, meeting buyers and
sellers alike, never home for James, never home for the boys. It's just a miracle my kids
have turned out to be such sweethearts." She turned slowly, meeting Jill's eyes. "Then, of
course, the stores took off and James was gone all the time." She turned back to the lake.
"And our kids still love us."
"What school do they go to? It's not Kline, is it?"
Carrie shook her head. "Private school. Brookhaven." She held her hands out as if to catch
the sunshine. "Such a gorgeous day. I'm so glad you're here to share it with me." She
smiled. "And it's good to see you like this, in everyday clothes. You look comfortable. You
look nice."
Jill blushed then rubbed her hands on her jeans. "I hate business suits but Mr. Tutt
insisted on them. Now that his son runs the business, he's not as particular but I've