Unbreakable (7 page)

She tore open the envelope and removed a heavy-stock, white card. Her eyes scanned to the bottom of the page and then widened almost comically and her heart began to pound. A small piece of paper fell out of the note and onto her lap. She promptly ignored it. "I'll be goddamned," she whispered to herself as she focused on the small neat script that covered every inch of available surface.

Katy,

It's been forever. But I guess you know that. For me, forever has been filled with regret over the way our friendship ended. The way the Mayflower Club ended. My fault, I know, but I'm hoping that time hasn't run out on my chance to heal old wounds and renew the friendships that were more important than I had the sense to understand way back when.

It finally happened. One of us, me, to be precise, is about to hit the ancient number we all laughed about as children. With my birthday comes a promise that I'm going to selfishly hold you to. I know it was given from the heart then… please don't break it now.

The Langtrees own a small B&B just outside the city named Charlotte's Web. I hope to see you there. Oct. 24-26.

Gwen

Katherine swallowed thickly. "Christ." She dropped the card onto the cushion next to her and mechanically made her way to the freezer, where she was hiding a pack of cigarettes from herself. With a groan, she let her head rest against the freezer door for a moment as she thought. Finally, she pushed aside a stack of Lean Cuisines and fished out the cold pack of Salem Lights, tapping one free from the pack as she wove her way around her small kitchen table and back to her sofa. Placing the cigarette in her mouth, she felt the chill against her lips as the paper stuck.

Her conversation with Toby earlier in the week came rushing back to her. Was it a coincidence that someone was checking her out and then she'd received a letter from a long-lost friend?
No way.

Her eyes caught sight of the small piece of paper that she'd disregarded earlier, now sitting on the floor. She was almost afraid to look.

She lit her cigarette and exhaled a long stream of smoke, her hand trembling a little as she held up the paper and read.

*  *  *

In soft cotton shorts and a slightly oversized t-shirt, Jacie sat at her dining room table scanning a set of architectural plans for a restaurant's dining area. She would visit the work site tomorrow, but she'd already had several phone conversations with the owner, who, like many of her clients, gave her vague instructions as to color preference, specific restrictions with price and quality, and left the design details up to her.

Which was just the way she liked it.

She'd been back in St. Louis for nearly five years, and during that time, Jacie had developed a reputation as not only a craftsman and good businesswoman but as an artist. Her tile and marble designs graced the floors and walls of some of the most spectacular historical and contemporary rooms in the South. And though her small company would take on standard commercial and exceptional domestic projects, she was finally in a financial position where she could restrict herself to the projects that sparked her creative interest. It had been a long time in coming.

Tiles of every color imaginable were stacked along the edges of the restaurant plans and she pushed aside a large pile of unopened mail to make room for another stack of hand-painted squares, purchased in New Mexico last spring. She was so engrossed in what she was doing that when the phone rang, she jumped.

She answered it absently, her eyes still fixed on the tiles, one hand sketching out an idea on a large notepad. "Jacie Priest."

"Hello, Ugly."

Jacie dropped her pencil. "Holy shit," she exclaimed, a disbelieving smile lighting her face. "Katy?"

Katherine laughed. "That would be me. Damn, it's good to hear your voice, Jacie."

Dark eyes went glassy. "Yours, too. I can't believe you're calling me after all these years. How did you get my number?" she asked quickly, knowing her home phone to be unlisted. "Where are you?"

"I'm here in St. Louis just like the paper says." There was a long pause. "Didn't you get an invitation?"

Jacie's brow crinkled. "What invitation?"

"An invitation from Gwen."

Jacie's smiled vanished and her grip on the phone tightened and Katherine could hear a few muffled curse words. "Why would I get an invitation from her?"

"Aww… shit, Jacie."

Jacie picked her pencil back up and began tapping it on her kitchen table. "Look, I have no idea what you're talking about. I was never very good at guessing games. I know I haven't gotten anything from Gwen." Her voice took on a dark edge. "And if I did, it would go in the circular file. If that's what you called me for, then you're wasting your time."

Unseen by Jacie, Katherine rolled her eyes. "Just check your mail. The invitation might be there. I got mine today."

"I don't–"

"God!" Katherine exploded. "You were always a pain in the ass. How could I have forgotten that?"

At that, Jacie couldn't help but chuckle. "And you're not?"

"Of course I am. We all were. Nobody could stand us but each other. Check your mail."

Jacie groaned and reached across the table and to grab a stack of unopened mail that had been piling up for several days. "Fine. Here we go: Credit Card Bill–"

"Ruthless bastards!"

Jacie smiled. "Junk mail shoe catalog." She tossed that one over her shoulder, not caring that it landed in the sink. "More junk mail about the gazillion dollar low interest loan I qualify for."

"I wish I'd get that one."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Keep looking."

She tossed the loan envelope over her shoulder. "Junk mail flyer about how to meet sexy, busty women online." She set that on the table to check out the photos later. "That's it. Now, enough about a stupid invitation. What have you been–?"

"Wait. It might have been a special delivery. Mine was."

Jacie sighed loudly. "There hasn't been–" Then her eyes widened with recognition and she went over to her sofa and started digging through her briefcase, her phone still pressed to her ear. "Some guy came by the office this morning. Of course he happened to be there at the same time as the UPS guy and my postman, so I just stuck his envelope on my desk at work. I figured it was another one of those charity dinner invitations where I should be grateful to be invited to a $250 a plate rubber chicken dinner."

Her satchel-style briefcase was so full that she finally resorted to dumping it upside-down and shaking things out of the pockets. When she saw a crumpled white envelope fall out, she grabbed it and went back to the table.

The return address was from Gwen Langtree in Town & Country, Missouri, a ritzy suburb about 12 miles outside of St. Louis. "Well, I'll be goddamned," Jacie breathed.

"That's what I said."

"What does she want?"

"Open it and see."

Jacie jumped up from the table and stuffed the invitation into the trashcan "No. Gwen can go fuck herself."

"Jesus, Jacie. Fine. I'll tell you what it says. She's apologizing and wants us all to get together. She put all of our addresses and phone numbers there. That's how I found you. I didn't even know you were back in town."

Jacie stalked back to her chair but continued to shoot daggers at her trashcan. "I've been back in St. Louis for years. I got tired of all that fresh air and clean living in Santa Fe," she said dryly.

"Audrey's in Utah. I wonder if she's a Mormon or one of the Osmonds by now. She always did want a dozen kids."

Jacie leaned back in her chair. "Wouldn't you know? You're in the same family, for Christ's sake."

"I haven't seen or spoken to her for years. We drifted apart after… Well, things were never the same once we all split. Seems like funerals are the only thing that get the whole family together anymore. And most of the older generation is gone already."

"Umm…" She did her best to sound casual. "What about Nina?" The name tasted funny on her lips after having gone so many years without saying it out loud.

Katherine let out a knowing grunt. "She's here."

Jacie licked her lips as butterflies began to dance in her belly. "In St. Louis? You're kidding." Visions of running into Nina at some gas station or the post office filled her with a combination of dread and ever-present longing.

"Well, yeah, but not in the city. In a suburb. I guess we all find our way home eventually." Impatient as ever, Katherine got right to the point and asked, "So are you going to accept Gwen's invitation?"

Was she? Could she risk it and try to be mature, letting bygones be bygones after all these years? "Fuck no."

"Jacieeeeee," Katherine whined. "Why not?"

She felt an explosion of burning anger that extended from the pit of her stomach to the tip of her toes, and she fought to keep from growling out her words. "How can you ask me that?"

"I can ask you that because I love you... moron. I've been thinking about this all day. And I've come to the realization that I miss you. I miss all of us. Even Gwen. "

Jacie sat there, stunned. "I… I don't know what to say, Katy. I miss you too. Just the other day Emily did something goofy that reminded me of Audrey. I about fell over laughing."

"Is Emily your dog? Audrey always could lick her own nose."

Jacie smiled. "She's my daughter."

"You have a kid?" Katherine screeched, her voice rising several octaves. "How freaky! I heard you were allergic to penises. You could have told me, you know."

Jacie rolled her eyes. "Oh, Christ."

"Poor Emily."

She laughed as she put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm. "How have I gone all these years without talking to you, Katy?"

"Good question. But do you miss me enough to come to this thing Gwen is having?"

Jacie fell quiet. "You don't know what you're asking," she said after a moment of soul searching, all traces of good humor gone.

"Yes, I do. I'm asking you to let go of the past and step into the future with your friends."

"I can't," Jacie said through gritted teeth. "There's more to it than you realize."

"You can, too," Katherine insisted with all the stubbornness of a 2-year-old.

And with that, both women dug in their heels.

Katherine waited a few minutes before speaking, hoping in vain that Jacie would back down first. They had both been strong-willed girls and were now even stronger-willed women, their obstinacy surpassed only by that of Nina, who was practically unbeatable in that department. "Just so you know, I'm going to go. I'll call in sick on Friday if I have to."

"Have fun."

"I'll bet anything Audrey will come."

"Say hello for me."

Katherine cocked a challenging eyebrow. "And Nina."

Shit.

"And you promised you'd come. We all did."

Double shit.
"Ugh. I have to go now, Katy." Jacie's gaze darted around the room desperately, as though an excuse might suddenly jump out from behind the sofa. She wouldn't have bothered to give an excuse to most people. But this was Katy. "I'm ahh…."

"You don't have jack crap to do and you know it. You're just going to go and sulk and think about what I said and come up with some more excuses."

Jacie bared her teeth at the phone. "You're trying to quit smoking again, aren't you?" Katherine had been in the process of quitting since she was 17.

Arctic blue eyes turned to slits. "Are you implying that I'm irritable?"

"I'm not implying anything. The norm with you is irritable. When you're trying to give up smokes you're irritable and irrational."

The women fell back into the easy banter, each hearing the smile in the other's words. They always had been too much alike for their own good. They talked for a few moments, exchanging nothing but the bare bones of their current lives, before another awkward silence fell.

"Well, I guess I'll talk to you later," Katherine said, vowing to call her every day between now and the end of October in order to convince her to go. She'd be damned if she was going to show up at some fancy Langtree B&B all by her lonesome. "Oh, wait. Before I hang up, I was wondering if you'd noticed anyone checking you out lately?"

Dark eyebrows rose. "Not that I know of." She smirked. "Though I am pretty hot."

A burst of laughter exploded from Katherine. "You always were, Jacie, but I'm talking about checking you out financially. Let me tell you what I think…."

*  *  *

Present Day
Clayton, Missouri

Robbie slurped down the rest of his milk and happily licked away the remnants of his milk mustache. "Can I be finished now, Mom?"

Nina smiled indulgently, knowing the boy was anxious to try out their newly installed Internet connection and email a friend or two back in Detroit. "Sure."

"Oh, thanks, Mom," he said quickly, jumping out of his seat and placing a quick peck on her cheek and then his grandmother's.

They were eating dinner at a small oak table in the kitchen. The dining room, which was lit by an enormous gold and glass chandelier and still held her grandmother's shiny, cherry-wood dining set, was too far from the refrigerator, not to mention overly formal for Nina's taste.

"Don't run," Nina called after him, rolling her eyes at the sound of Robbie's footsteps pounding up the wooden staircase.

Nina's mother set her napkin on the table, chuckling. "I'd forgotten what a joy and handful a child can be. He's such a sweet boy."

Nina beamed. "He is."

"I can't believe how well he's turning out. And all without a father."

Nina's smile dissolved and Agnes was quick to clarify herself. "Not that I disapprove of your choice, dear." She forced a cheerful look on her face. "I know there are a lot of single women today. Still, I can't believe most of them are single because they want to be. There's no reason on earth for a pretty, smart girl like you to be home on Saturday nights."

She sighed, not wanting to have this discussion for the thousandth time. What Nina said never changed, but somehow her mother managed to appear suitably shocked by what she heard every single time. Nina's lips thinned with residual anger over feeling that she needed to explain herself one more time. "I don't want a man, period. You know that I'm interested in women, not men. You've known that for years. Must you pretend like it's not true?"