Thy Neighbor's Wife (9 page)

Road on the border between the suburbs of Pittsford and Fairport.

There were no headstones, only grave markers that lay flat, flush

with the thick, green grass. If one didn’t know it was a cemetery,

one might have assumed it was simply a gorgeous park, dotted with

old, majestic trees and sporadic bunches of colorful flowers, with a

beautiful fountain sprouting up in the center.

The day was a bit gloomy and still cool, even for early June; it

seemed appropriate for a visit to the cemetery. Jennifer eased her

car along the winding, paved path, following a route she had grown

to know well, over the last nine months. She coasted to a stop, put

the car in park, and sat for a moment or two, just looking out over

the expanse of flawlessly manicured lawn.

Michael Remington had died the previous August of a massive

heart attack. Though nearly a year had passed, Jennifer still had a

hard time with the fact that she’d never see him again, and it was

still difficult for her to accept that he wasn’t available to give her

advice anymore. He was the only member of the family who seemed

to understand her. She knew it sounded cliché, but it was true. They

were very much alike, so they tended to stick together on most

issues. He had worked hard for his success, as well as his money,

and he’d never taken it for granted. Over the years, they had sadly

watched together as Jennifer’s mother became more and more

wrapped up in her image and her wealth. She hadn’t started out that

way, and Jennifer believed that at one time, long ago, her parents

really were in love with one another. By the time her father passed

away, though, they’d been basically roommates…and Jennifer won-

dered if they even liked each other all that much at that point. She

had no idea why they never divorced. Maybe they would have even-

tually. That was something she’d never know.

She got out of the car, grabbed the small, Ziploc baggie from

46 Georgia Beers

her purse, and walked past several markers until she came to his.

Her brow furrowed as she stood there, looking at the small bouquet

of white daisies that graced his plot. They were obviously fresh,

bringing a splash of beauty to the otherwise dreary day. She knew

her mother had only been there once or twice since Michael’s

death, so the flowers were a small mystery. Jennifer squatted down,

surprised to find the grass dry, and took a seat.

“Who brought the daisies, Daddy?” she asked softly. The

breeze blew delicately. Sometimes she would swear she’d hear his

voice traveling by on it.

She picked a few stray blades of grass from his marker and lov-

ingly ran her fingers over the chiseled lettering. She scooped out a

handful of birdseed from the Ziploc baggie and sprinkled it evenly

all around him. She doubted anybody else in the family had any

idea that he loved to birdwatch. It was her own special connection

with him now. Instead of bringing flowers, which is what just about

anybody would do, she brought birdseed, so that even when he

didn’t have human visitors, he’d have animal ones.

She settled herself comfortably and prattled on, telling him

about her life. It was something she did several times a month, and

it was akin to a therapy session for her. She didn’t think her father

would mind.

“The girls are coming by for lunch today.” The flat and unen-

thusiastic tone of her voice told him exactly how she felt about that.

And they were people she called her friends. How sad for me. “They

want to see the new lake house. I hope they go easy on me. I’m not

sure it fits their ‘image.’” She made the quotations marks in the air

to demonstrate the sarcasm to him. “It’s probably not quite artifi-

cial enough for them. I love it, though, Daddy. You would, too. It’s

peaceful and beautiful and being on the water is so incredibly calm-

ing. I’ve been working my butt off on the interior. The previous

owner was a little too into reds and golds; you know, that oriental

look? Ugh. Way too loud and heavy for me. I’ve been painting, and

trying some new stuff I’ve been reading about in that book you got

me for my birthday last year. Remember? The living room looks fan-

tastic! You’d love it. I color washed the walls in some warm, earthy

tones. It was definitely not an easy process, but I think I did it right.

It looks pretty good. It feels a lot like your den. You know, cozy and

inviting, like you want to sit down and read a book or something?

Dawn’s going to hate it. You know how she is. She’s going to say it

feels like a den instead of a living room and she’s going to ask

where I’d put the guests for a dinner party, because they certainly

won’t be comfortable in a den.” She sighed, feeling the dread come

over her. She knew that she shouldn’t be so concerned about what

other people thought, but it seemed she was always searching for

Thy Neighbor’s Wife 47

somebody’s approval. Apparently, it was her curse in life.

“But Alex liked it. A lot.”

That sentence alone brought a smile to her face, and she could

actually hear her father’s voice, colored with a grin of his own.

Alex? Who’s Alex? He’d always made it his job to know who Jenni-

fer’s friends were, and he had his own opinion of each of them. He

would have loved Alex, Jennifer was sure of it. “She’s my new

neighbor. She lives next door to our lake house and she’s very

sweet. We’ve become good friends. She talked me into playing on

her volleyball team this summer. In the sand! I haven’t played in so

long and it felt great! My legs are still sore.” She could hear his

hearty laugh. A little out of shape, pumpkin? “Yeah, a little. But

Alex was sore, too. First practice of the season and all, so I didn’t

feel so bad. She liked the living room, Daddy. Very much. She got

it, you know? She got the exact feel that I was going for, the exact

mood. It was very cool. Made me feel like I actually learned some-

thing during the time I was at school, like I knew what I was

doing.”

She sat quietly for a while, watching as the gentle breeze grad-

ually swept the clouds from the sky and slivers of blue began to

show. The sun kept peeking through, as if trying to decide if it was

safe to make a full-fledged appearance. “Looks like it’s going to

clear up, Dad. I suppose I should get back and make some appropri-

ate hors d’oeuvres for my visitors.” She sighed at the prospect of the

afternoon. “Kayla and Dawn hardly do anything apart anymore.

It’s kind of weird. When she’s around Dawn, Kayla almost absorbs

her personality. Like the world needs two Dawns.” She shuddered

at the thought. “I wish Kayla was coming alone. That’s the only

time she acts like herself any more.” She shrugged, taking a deep

breath of the clean, crisp air.

She kissed her fingers and pressed them to her father’s grave

marker. “I’ll come by again soon, Daddy. I miss you.” She stood

and brushed off the grass and dirt from her behind, crumpled the

baggie and stuffed it into her pocket, and waited for the tears that

misted her eyes each time she visited to clear away. She bent once

more and straightened the daisies, wondering again, where they

might have come from. Then she walked slowly back to her car,

shaking her head in disgust at the fact that she was about to have

her so-called friends over to her brand new house on the lake and

she was positively dreading it. At that moment, the sun broke

through fully, as if to laugh at her.

* * *

“It’s very…nice, Jen.”

48 Georgia Beers

Only Dawn Chambers could make a compliment sound so

uncomplimentary. She stood in Jennifer’s living room surveying the

walls, the furniture, the art, turning in a slow circle, disapproval

written all over her impossibly perfect face, even as her lips spoke

the opposite.

“Mm hmm. Very…nice,” she repeated. Jennifer had to fight to

keep from rolling her eyes.

Dawn was Eric’s older sister. With her tan and trim body, rich,

dark hair, and huge green eyes framed by astonishingly dark lashes

and brows, she was stunningly gorgeous. It’s a damn good thing she

looks like that, Jennifer thought often. She needs all the help she

can get. Dawn was the epitome of haughty and she treated most

other people as if they weren’t nearly as worthy of life as she was.

She was definitely Claire’s daughter. If Jennifer hadn’t been related

to her, she never, ever would have had any sort of contact with her.

Ever.

“Well, I’m very happy with the way it turned out,” Jennifer

offered, trying not to let Dawn’s obvious condemnation get to her.

This is my house, damn it. Why do I care what you think?

“It’s a little…casual, though, don’t you think? Is that what you

wanted?”

Here we go, Jennifer thought, thinking how her father was

probably watching and chuckling as her earlier prediction came

true.

“I mean, what if you have dinner guests or, heaven forbid, a

party? Won’t you want to have a space that’s a bit more…formal?”

Jennifer bit back the urge to stick her tongue out at her sister-

in-law.

Dawn shrugged and took her Chardonnay out onto the deck.

That was all she had to say about the living room of which Jennifer

was so proud. She stood in the center of the room, holding her own

wineglass and trying not to look completely dejected, which was

how she felt. Dawn had had exactly the reaction Jennifer had

expected, so she wasn’t sure why it still bothered her so much. She

tried hard not to let her disappointment show on her face as she

stood there alone with Kayla, waiting for her oldest friend to echo

Dawn’s opinion.

“I don’t know, Jen. I kind of like it.” Kayla’s blue eyes moved

slowly around the room, taking in every detail. “It feels kind

of…warm. Inviting.”

The compliment made Jennifer so happy that she decided to

ignore the fact Kayla had waited until Dawn was out of earshot

before she said anything.

“Thanks, Kay. I like it, too.”

Kayla and Jennifer had graduated from Mercy together and

Thy Neighbor’s Wife 49

had known one another since they were twelve. They had bonded

instantly then and Kayla was Jennifer’s one constant all through

school. She knew more of Jennifer’s secrets than anybody else,

including her father. Their families were very much alike and they

faced many of the same struggles. Like Jennifer, Kayla also battled

with her desire to be her own person, not what her family thought

she should be. Unfortunately, Jennifer was sure Kayla was losing

that one. It seemed to Jennifer that, not only did Kayla tend to lean

toward being more like Dawn, saying things that she knew would

please her and hoping to stay on her good side, but she was doing it

more and more often. She was sure that Dawn noticed it, too, and

liked to toy with Kayla, watching her paint herself into a corner try-

ing to say what she thought Dawn wanted her to say instead of what

she really thought or felt. It was painful for the spectators as well as

Kayla, and there were countless times when Jennifer had wanted to

scream at her to open her eyes and see what was really happening.

Kayla never did, though, and it made her old friend sad.

The only saving grace was that every so often, a little bit of the

old Kayla would peek through, saying something sweet or voicing

an original thought—like commenting on the living room—and Jen-

nifer would know that she was still in there.

Jennifer touched her arm and smiled. “You want some more

wine?”

“No, I’m good.” Kayla smiled back, then followed Dawn out

onto the deck while Jennifer topped off her own glass, hoping to

numb herself enough to make it through the rest of the visit. When

she finally joined them on the deck, they were chuckling in amuse-

ment at the sight in the backyard.

A blur of white shot by, down near the water. Jennifer was sur-

prised that he was actually heading toward his own house rather

than away from it until she saw Alex, coming from the opposite

direction, also running toward her own house. Apparently, she’d

been chasing him for some time. The tone of her voice confirmed

that assumption.

“God damn it, Kinsey! When I get my hands on you…”

Jennifer was glad she’d left the sentence dangling. Alex was not

looking the slightest bit pleased. Jennifer quickly set her wine glass

down and, much to the horror of her uppity sister-in-law, scrambled

down the steps and into the yard, clapping her hands loudly.

“Come here, Kinsey! Here, boy!”

To the surprise of everybody, Kinsey stopped dead in his

tracks. His ears pricked up and he turned his head in Jennifer’s

direction.

“That’s it. Come here, handsome. Come on.” She squatted

down and continued to call to him. He tucked his tail and sprinted

50 Georgia Beers

full speed to her, where he put his front paws on her knee and pro-

ceeded to wash her entire face with his tongue.

“Oh, good Lord,” she heard Dawn mutter in disgust.