A Week at the Lake (36 page)

H
ow could you?” They were the first words that came out of Serena's mouth. The only thing she could think of to say.

“How could I what?” Adam stepped into the room, the bottle and small shot glasses in his hands.

His face swam in front of her; far too content, too pleased with himself for someone who had apparently done what he'd done.

“How could you do that to Mackenzie?”

He set the bottle and shot glasses down but didn't look at all alarmed or even particularly troubled. “What are you talking about?”

Keeping her eyes on his face, Serena turned her laptop so that he could see the images of him, Zoe, and Mackenzie. “This.”

He glanced at the photos then poured two shots. Placing one in her hand, he clinked his against hers, still unperturbed. Either Adam Russell was a far better actor than she'd ever given him credit for, or he was completely lacking in conscience. Her palm grew sweaty around the small glass. After he'd downed his shot, he looked at the photos more closely. “What is it I'm supposed to see here?”

“Zoe's resemblance to you. Are you her father?” The words were out and unretractable before she could stop them.

His head jerked up. He took a step back. But his expression
was one of shock not admission. “What in the hell are you talking about? Of course not.”

She peered at him more closely. Looked down at the photos then back up at him. “She has your forehead, Adam. And the set of your eyes. Even her chin looks like yours. She's built like you.” And it would explain a lot.

“Don't be ridiculous,” Adam said. “Calvin Hardgrove is Zoe's father. Every once in a while someone tells me I look like him.” He shook his head. “He and all of the Michaelses are built like me, well, except for Emma.”

It sounded completely logical. And he seemed to believe what he was saying. “Right,” she said. “Only Calvin Hardgrove doesn't share custody. And legally, according to the documents I received while Emma was in the hospital, Zoe wouldn't live with him in the event of Emma's incapacitation or death. Why would Emma cut out Zoe's real father? And if she did, why wouldn't he fight it?”

“How would we know why they decided whatever they decided? And if Emma hasn't told you why, she probably has a reason. I don't know where you're going with this, Serena, but I'm thinking you don't need that other shot.” He leaned against the dresser, crossed his arms over his chest. “But if you're saying she'd be living with us it makes sense. I mean, Mac would be a great mom. I can see why Emma would choose her.”

Serena studied his face, considered his body language. Either he really didn't know what she was talking about or she wasn't being clear enough. “No,” she said. “Not you and Mackenzie. Emma chose me.” The glass grew slippery in her hand and she set it down. “Which Mackenzie is not at all happy about. So, I've been wondering, why would Emma leave Zoe to me when Mackenzie would be a far better choice? When Mackenzie always wanted a child, but couldn't have one? When the two of you could provide the kind of solid, two-parent home Emma always wanted and didn't have?”

He shrugged. “I have no earthly idea. And I don't think
it's any of our business, either.” He said this without stumbling, as if she were talking crazy and he was just trying to reason with her. But something flickered in his eyes.

For a moment Serena wished she'd downed the shot. Wished that her mind were less sharp, her thoughts less clear. But everything inside her said it was too late to turn back. “Did you ever sleep with Emma?” she asked because the only way any of this made sense was if her first instinct had been correct.

He laughed, but it was nowhere near as confident as before. The carefree attitude was rapidly evaporating. “You definitely don't need this shot.” He picked it up. “You've clearly had way more than enough already.” He set the shot glass in the empty one and picked up the bottle as if to leave.

“Seriously, Adam. Just answer the question. Did you and Emma ever have sex?”

“Of course not. I . . .” He faltered, went still. Almost reflexively he downed the shot of vodka. Swallowed it. She thought that was all he was going to say, when he continued. “Once.”

She waited him out, her eyes never leaving his face.

“Back when Mackenzie and I had broken up for good.”

“You had rebound sex with Emma? Seriously?”

“It was forever ago.” He closed his eyes as if recalling a painful memory.

“Like just under seventeen years ago?”

She read the shock on his face, as if he'd actually managed to forget it until this moment, which apparently in his playbook was as good as having never done it.

“This is frickin' unbelievable,” Serena said.

“It's not like it was intentional,” he snapped.

“No? How unintentional was it?” she asked.

His jaw tensed. He closed his eyes once more. When he opened them he said, “I was staying at her place while I was in town talking to agents. We were both going through a rough patch.” He held up the bottle. “We drank too much. Tequila as I recall, not vodka.” He paused. Swallowed. “I . . . I don't
know which one of us was more freaked when we woke up together the next morning. But it was a mistake and we both knew it. It didn't mean anything. And we never mentioned it again.”

Serena studied his face. He seemed to be telling the truth. As he knew it. “Then what happened?”

“Nothing,” he insisted. “Nothing happened.”

She watched him. Waited.

He drew a deep breath. “A few weeks later Mackenzie told me she was pregnant. We got married. That was it.”

“And Emma?” she asked, although she already knew the answer.

“Emma was already shooting that movie with Calvin. She got pregnant. They got married and had Zoe. End of story.”

Except it wasn't. The story had been edited. The backstory tweaked. The characters sent off in different and unanticipated directions to mislead and confuse.

Serena looked at the photos on the screen then once again at Adam, who was looking less belligerent and more uncomfortable. Now that she knew what she was looking for, the resemblance was even more obvious. The way he tilted his head. The way his smile started as a hint before it got bigger. She'd seen these things in Zoe and not understood why they seemed so familiar. Was that why Emma had distanced herself from them? Because she was afraid one of them would notice?

“This is totally crazy,” Adam said. “You're jumping to all kinds of conclusions. Conclusions that could seriously fuck up a whole lot of lives. If I was the father, don't you think Emma would have left Zoe in my hands? Or at least told me?” He shook his head as if he might dislodge their conversation, make it cease to exist. “Given everything that's going on, this is the last thing in the world Mackenzie needs to hear.”

“Is that right?” Mackenzie was standing in the doorway staring at Adam as if she'd never seen him before.

Serena had no doubt her own face shone with guilt just as Adam's did. As if they were the ones who'd been caught in bed together. Mackenzie looked as if she were more than ready to kill the messenger.

E
mma heard the commotion even before her door flew open. One look at Mackenzie's face told her that the very thing she'd been bracing for and dreading was in fact now happening whether she was ready for it or not.

Neither Adam nor Serena looked as if they wanted to be there any more than she did. It was Mackenzie who'd flung open the bedroom door and practically pushed them through it. Mackenzie, whom Emma had never seen truly angry before, looked as if she might explode.

“How in God's name could you have done this?” Mackenzie demanded.

“Okay, don't take this the wrong way.” Emma could feel her thoughts swirling, words and sentences ducking and weaving. Could even feel the holes and gaps that might never be filled, and wished desperately that she could shove her guilt into one of those dark caverns and be rid of it. “But you're going to have to be more specific than that.” She pulled her robe tighter around her and got up from the chair, though she didn't move one step closer.

“So you've done other things besides sleep with my husband and give birth to his baby without ever telling me?” Mackenzie asked.

“Or me,” Adam said as if still trying to absorb this.

Mackenzie turned long enough to give him a withering look. “She didn't tell you that she slept with you?”

“You know that's not what I meant. But that was a simple . . . mistake. It happened exactly once and . . .”

“That would be one time too many,” Mackenzie said.

“Yes. But you and I weren't seeing each other anymore.
And it . . . it just sort of happened. Only that once. It never happened again.”

He looked to Emma for corroboration. She nodded. “I know that doesn't excuse it, but that part is true. It meant absolutely nothing to either of us except for how shitty we felt afterward.”

“And the fact that he made you pregnant,” Mackenzie bit out. “He gave you Zoe.”

“But I didn't know that,” Adam said. “She never even told me.”

Mackenzie closed her eyes briefly as if she couldn't bear to look at him. “That makes me even sicker to my stomach. That you had sex with my best friend. That it meant nothing. That you could do that and then marry me.”

“I married you because you were pregnant.”

Even Emma winced at how badly Adam was mucking this up.

“And because I loved you,” he added softly, seeming to recover his senses. “I've always loved you.”

“Right.” Mackenzie drew herself up.

“If I'd known I would have . . .” Adam began.

“You would have what?” Mackenzie asked.

“I don't know,” Adam admitted. “But Emma should have told me.”

“And me,” Mackenzie said, her eyes, which were filled with hurt and anger, turning to Emma.

“I know. And I'm so sorry,” Emma said. “I didn't think there was a reason to hurt you by telling you that we'd ended up in bed together. You'd broken up for what you swore was the last time, and Adam and I turned to each other exactly once. For about ten seconds.”

Serena shot Adam a look but for once she didn't take the opportunity to offer a wisecrack about Adam's sexual stamina or anything else.

“It meant less than nothing,” Emma continued, unable to
keep the pleading tone out of her voice. She hadn't allowed herself to imagine this conversation, but she had imagined herself somehow forgiven. She saw no sign of forgiveness in Mackenzie's face. Or Adam's for that matter.

“By the time I realized I was pregnant, you were back together, getting married, and you were going to have the baby you always wanted. Would that have been a better time to tell you? Just how would that conversation have gone?”

Mackenzie didn't answer. Her jaw remained set; her hands were still fisted at her hips. Her long blond hair hung down beneath her squared shoulders. She looked like an Amazon warrior princess. Emma had always been short, but she'd never felt this small.

“Please try to understand. I was afraid of losing your friendship. I . . . deserved to lose your friendship, but I . . . you were pregnant and Adam loved you. I thought we'd both have children, who'd be best friends with each other.” She willed back the tears. “That was why I married Calvin. So that no one would ever know. And that was why I left Zoe to Serena, so you would never be forced to know after I was gone and couldn't explain.”

“Friends tell the truth even when it's painful,” Mackenzie said.

Serena nodded but stayed mercifully out of the conversation.

“I couldn't do it. I was so afraid of losing your friendship that I . . .” Emma swallowed. “I was sitting here working up the nerve to tell you tomorrow. It's why I invited you both here. I never told Serena, either. I was going to confess that Zoe was Adam's daughter. Then once you'd had a chance to absorb it and hopefully come to terms with how it happened, I was going to change my will and all the paperwork so that Zoe would be yours, Mackenzie. And Adam's, too.”