Four Friends (35 page)

“Well,” Andy said. “Maybe you just did. You’re saying Connie and Frank are very wealthy, but down to earth.”

“Frank started with nothing, just like anyone else. He had aspirations to be a developer. He was a contractor who got small jobs. He had his own little company that Connie managed and kept the books for while she was having the kids. They moved into that house to renovate it and sell it at a profit to fund larger investments that could be used to develop condos, apartment complexes, small housing tracts—but he got his break before the big house was finished, so they never sold it. Frank was my first boss out of college, when I started custom carpentry.” He whistled. “Tell you what, if Frank touches it, it turns straight to gold.”

“Bob,” she said, laughing, “are you nervous?”

“I think I need you to like them,” he said weakly.

She put a hand along his cheek. “I’m sure I’ll like them, but try to remember—it really doesn’t matter. What matters is that I like
you.
”

He put his arms around her and held her tight.

Andy wasn’t overwhelmed by the house, which was indeed huge and beautiful, nearly ten thousand square feet of it. Given her work, she’d been to many a fund-raiser and political rally in ostentatious settings and was well acquainted with the wealth of Marin County. The house sat within a small, exclusive neighborhood with a guard at the gate. It was set back on a beautifully manicured lawn with a circular brick drive. Although Bob pulled his truck around back, he insisted they go to the front door. They were drawn into a large, marble foyer by Connie, a woman in her sixties who wore a wide grin and pulled Andy immediately into her welcoming arms for a big hug.

“I am so glad to finally meet you,” she said to Andy. “I thought Bob made you up!”

“Completely real.” Andy laughed. “I never worried that he made you up—I know every detail of your childhood, and the childhoods of each of your kids!”

“Doesn’t he just talk too much?” Connie asked. “Come in, come in. I’m not used to this at all—Bob coming to the front door like this. He usually just lets himself in the kitchen door.” She bent to say hello to Beau, giving him an affectionate rub on the head.

“That would have suited me just fine,” Andy said.

“Come on back—Frank’s on the patio. You can relax and have something to drink.”

“I’d be happy to help you,” Andy offered.

“Even better,” Connie said. “I could use a hand.”

Andy glanced at Bob and saw that he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief that the preliminaries were going well. She tried giving him a smile of reassurance, but he appeared to be too tense to notice. Connie had already turned away from the front door and was leading them through the house toward the back. Andy chuckled, turned and followed. When she arrived in the kitchen—a kitchen clearly designed to play host to very large parties—she found Connie at the central workstation with food spread all over the place. Tons of food.

“Bob, please get Andy whatever she’d like and grab yourself a cold beer so you can relax a little bit. We like each other just fine.”

While Bob busied himself fixing drinks, Andy and Connie exchanged amused glances. Bob handed Andy a glass of wine. “Would you like to meet Frank before you get involved in this mess?” he asked.

“I think maybe I better,” she said with a laugh.

When they arrived on the patio, Andy barely noticed the man sleeping, openmouthed, his glasses slipping off his generous nose, a newspaper sliding off his lap. She was taken by her surroundings—a backyard showplace. The grounds were massive. The landscaping surrounding the patio and pool was lush, green and flowering. The patio and pool deck was large enough to hold at least two hundred people. There were tables and chairs placed strategically around the yard and two gazebos. Right beside the French doors that led back into the kitchen was a small table and chairs, a couple of matching chaise lounges and a large grill built into a brick console with what looked like a warming oven and small refrigerator. And there, across the yard with a driveway that led to the door, was the guesthouse. And it was not a tiny guesthouse, it looked big enough for a couple or small family, with a second floor dormer window indicating a loft or upstairs bedroom.

“Um, Frank?” Bob said.

Frank roused slowly, adjusted his glasses and looked at Bob. “Oh!” he said, sitting up as though shocked he’d fallen asleep. Then he stood.

“Frank, I’d like you to meet Andy Jamison—Andy, meet my brother-in-law Frank Sepelman.”

“Well, it’s about time.” Frank chortled. “I wondered if he was ever going to share you!” He took one of her hands in both of his. “I’m so happy you came today, so happy! Good to meet you, Andy. Short for Andrea?”

“Anastasia,” Bob said. “She’ll rise again—that’s what it means.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Frank,” Andy said. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll just let you men catch up while I help Connie in the kitchen. Then we can all visit together.”

“Super,” Frank said. “She probably needs some help. Did you see how much food she’s got spread around?”

“I did.” Andy laughed. “So—you’re having the 49ers to dinner tonight?”

Frank grinned. “If there’s anything you’re allergic to, any special dietary quirks like you’re a vegetarian or whatever—Connie’s got you covered.”

“I eat absolutely everything. And lots more of it since I’ve been seeing Bob, who likes food as much as I do.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Don’t worry—we don’t force people to clean their plates.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “Relax, you guys. I’ll visit with Connie and see if I can give her a hand.”

* * *

Andy was smiling when she entered the huge kitchen. She stood at the opposite side of the workstation from Connie. “I’ve never seen Bob so nervous,” she said.

“I’m flattered,” Connie said. “I thought he took me for granted.” She pushed ears of corn toward Andy. “Shuck these, will you, dear? Into the trash there.”

“Connie, you’re going to make me eat corn on the cob at my debut?”

“Bob will probably shear it off the cob for you,” Connie said with a laugh. “If you act pitiful, he might even feed it to you. Do you imagine there’s anything we don’t already know about each other?”

“Doubtful,” Andy said, tearing the green husks away from the cob.

“Well, I’ve heard Bob’s version of how you two got together. I’d love to hear yours,” Connie said.

“Very simple, and yet the most amazing experience of my life,” Andy said. “I was going through my second divorce while Bob was working on remodeling my kitchen. It’s pretty embarrassing, going through two divorces in less than ten years. You start to feel like the biggest dope on earth. But Bob was there almost every day and we’d talk for least an hour, sometimes longer. He had this way of making me feel like I hadn’t made two giant mistakes. He’s just so kind, so supportive. I mean, no reason he should have to prop up my sagging ego in addition to all that hard renovating work—but it seemed to come from him naturally. It didn’t take long, Connie. He won me over in no time—he’s the most beautiful man I know. When the kitchen was done, I couldn’t let him get away.”

Connie stopped working and looked at Andy with that same precious, somewhat melancholy expression her brother wore so well. In fact, she was a lot like her brother—thickset and unfussy. She didn’t color her hair. She had a short cropped salt-and-pepper coiffure and tanned skin, as though she spent lots of time in the sun. Plenty of wrinkles, too. She didn’t seem at all the face-lift type. When she smiled, the lines around her mouth and eyes crinkled. If she was wearing makeup, it was lightly applied—all that was obvious was a bit of pink lip gloss. And she had that wonderful twinkle in her eyes.

“He tells it almost exactly the same way, except he didn’t mention you until his truck started going missing from the driveway and I asked him about it. I’ll admit something to you,” she said. “I warned him to be careful, that you might be lonely because you were suddenly without a partner, maybe needing someone as giving as Bob, someone to lean on, but not ready for a replacement.”

“You might’ve been right at the very beginning,” Andy said. “But not now. I adore Bob. I can’t imagine not having him in my life. He’s so remarkable. I don’t know how he hasn’t been married for thirty years.”

“Too solitary, I guess,” Connie said. “He’s terribly shy. Except around family—with us he’s loud, hysterically funny and always full of mischief. He’s everyone’s favorite Uncle Bob.”

“Connie, I know how close you are—he’s safe with me, I promise. I’ve never been so happy, never felt so secure.”

“And you have a son, Bob tells me.”

From there the conversation went to Noel, then to Connie’s kids, then to other family members. Eventually some things came out that Bob hadn’t mentioned. For one thing, Connie and Frank were extremely busy people and were seldom around that great big house. Frank continued to run his company and Connie sat on several boards all over Marin County and San Francisco, from charity to political to community-service work. It was very important to them to give back to their community. In addition, now that she and Frank were in their sixties and had raised their family, they liked to do some traveling together, finally catching up on the trips there had never been the time or money to indulge in when they were younger. Between their many trips, committee and board meetings and obligations, they averaged a couple of dinner hours a week at home and counted on Bob to look after things for them when they were away, which was more and more often.

“When Bob moved into the guesthouse, it was one room with a large bathroom and a few kitchen items—bar-size refrigerator, microwave, hot plate—more for convenience than actual cooking. He had access to the house whenever it suited him. He could live here if he wanted to. But he preferred that little place, his own place, even when we’re out of town. So he enlarged it—added a bedroom, put in a proper living room, dining area and small but more than adequate kitchen with full-size appliances so he could cook himself a real meal. He finished off the attic for good measure, making it an L-shaped loft up there. It’s fourteen hundred square feet of living space now!”

Bob had mentioned to Andy that he helped out when he could, but he hadn’t said he looked after things for Connie and Frank. “Has it been a problem that Bob’s been spending so much time at my house?” Andy asked.

“Of course not.” Connie laughed. “There are things to do around here every day, but not huge things. Check the place over, make sure the plants aren’t dying, food isn’t rotting, bring in the mail, be on call if something malfunctions—from the pool pump to the alarm system. There’s a cleaning crew that comes in to clean this monster. It’s so damn big, they have to come twice a week just to keep it decent. We have outside maintenance regularly. But if Bob ever leaves us, I have kids that can help with some things. Lord knows, we’ve helped them enough!”

Andy loved Connie and Frank immediately, and if she was any judge, they liked her just fine. Once Bob settled down, dinner with his family was just what she imagined it would be—full of poking fun, wisecracks, laughing, telling tales. Andy got a tour of the house while the men cleaned up, but the thing that intrigued her more was the guesthouse, which was charming and spacious—all work Bob had done himself.

Finally it was time to go back to Andy’s. She rode alongside Bob in his work truck, feeling the lighthearted joy that comes from enchantment—from everything being, for the very first time, exactly how it should be. When they got home and she opened the door for them, she turned to Bob. “Are you calmed down now?”

“Uh-huh. Sorry. I guess I froze up a little, like I was around a bunch of strangers. Because...aw, because so many things,” he said, putting his arms around her.

“Give me one reason,” she said.

“It was a challenge for me, Andy. Putting the two women who are most important to me together and hoping they’d like each other. I didn’t know what I’d do if it didn’t work out.”

“But that’s so paranoid—and so not like you.”

“I know. But I was never in that spot before. And I was afraid they’d take one look at you and figure you couldn’t possibly have real, honest feelings for me.”

“Bob,” she said, running a finger over his lips. “You have to stop this. I can’t prove my love to you every second of every day—you’ll wear me out. Sooner or later it would be nice if you trusted me as much as I trust you.”

He held her in silence for a moment and then said, “Love?”

“Of course, love. I love you as much as you love me. Maybe even more.”

“You do?”

She nodded. “I heard you, you know. That morning with Noel. I heard you tell him you loved me, then apologize because you hadn’t told me first. In fact, I heard everything you said to him. There’s a little window in the bathroom that was cracked open. I listened. I was so touched, I cried for an hour, but you didn’t even notice.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I was busy with Noel. He needed someone on his side real bad. I mean a man—he needed a man on his side. I promise, I’ll never not notice again.”

She laughed. “I loved you even more for giving all that to Noel because you’re right—he needed you a lot more than I did. But I was so in love with you right then, when you took my troubled son into your great big arms.”

“I never did...”

“I meant figuratively.” She laughed. “You’ve had a very rough day. You’re usually much quicker than that.”

“I love you, Andy,” he said.

“I know. You love me in a way you thought you’d never experience.”

“That’s right.” He smiled.

“I like that very much. So could we get down to our skivvies now? And maybe do that thing where you concentrate on baseball stats?” He laughed at her. “That’s so much fun,” she said.

thirteen

AFTER TWO WEEKS, Sonja was jogging four miles at a ten-minute-mile pace, itching to take it to the nine minute mile, then eight. She could talk to BJ for the first mile and a half, then the conversation had to stop so the breathing and running could be smooth. She loved it. BJ would come for her at six and she was raring to go. After forty minutes on the route BJ had carefully plotted, they’d end up at the park.