Wellesley Wives (New England Trilogy) (19 page)

“Safer than leaving it in Jack’s account. I don’t usually carry this much money, but then Jack never walked out on me before. First thing Monday morning, I went into the bank and withdrew everything I could. I had no choice.”

“Very shrewd, girl. Was it easy?”

“No, now that you mention it. They have a time lock on their safe, so I had to come back. It has to do with money trafficking. They put up a good fight, too. They asked what I wanted so much cash for since everything is done by plastic these days. I said that I was going to a cash-only charity event, and they believed me.”

“I think you were very wise. May I ask how much you managed to get?”

Sandra looked at Popsy and smiled with satisfaction. “Would you believe $100,000? Hey, what can I say, I’m a big giver, especially when I’m the charity.”

Despite the laughter, Popsy felt sorry for Sandra. How had it come to this so fast? She didn’t know if she would ever be able to forgive Lily for being so horrendously selfish and stupid.

Sandra stroked her arm. “You know, I hurt like hell and I’m really pissed at Jack, but I’m okay with you. Really.”

Popsy felt anxious. “Are you sure? I feel so bad about all of this, even though I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You won’t believe this, but I feel a little sorry for Lily, too. She has no idea what she’s getting into. Jack is an idiot, and a selfish one at that. Lily won’t be able to have kids with him. That’s my biggest regret after all these years.”

Popsy shook her head. She couldn’t see a solution, only broken homes and friendships. Well, at least she and Sandra had weathered the storm

Sandra handed the car keys back to Popsy. “Come on, your turn to drive this beauty. Where to?”

“Shall we go visit Rosie?” Popsy suggested. “Her gardens look fantastic at this time of year and the views are really spectacular. Have you been to her house in Weston?”

Sandra said she hadn’t and would love the minor detour. It wasn’t like she had anything else to do.

“Oh my God, that car!” Marcus said. The reaction was effusive and ecstatic, and Popsy found that very gratifying. It wasn’t often he got fired up about something of hers. He studied the Ferrari like it was a piece of fine art or some sort of deity. In fact, it really did look like he was worshiping it as he got down on his knees to examine the finer points of its design.

“Big boys’ toys.” Rosie laughed and invited her and Sandra inside. “Mom, you shouldn’t have.” She chastised her mother yet again for her over-generosity, but Natasha was thrilled and insisted on getting into the princess costume right away.

“Where’s the wand?” she asked crossly.

It was at this point that even Popsy thought it might be high time for Natasha to learn about “less is more,” but then, she wondered, how could she, a Ferrari driving granny, preach about cutting back?

They turned down the offer of coffee and Halloween muffins, having just eaten in Natick, but were delighted to take a walk around Rosie’s beautiful garden.

Built on a height just next to Weston’s huge water reservoir, the views over the lake were supreme. Today the blue of the sky was reflected in the water, and it filled Popsy’s heart. Every time she saw it, she wanted to move to Weston. Although her home on Cliff Road had almost everything she wished for, the one thing it didn’t have was a view like this.

Water calmed Popsy’s soul—well, that, and the large rambling garden.

Rosie had used an English landscape artist to design her yard when they first moved in, just after Natasha was born. The result was a garden more suited to England’s Wimbledon than New England’s Weston, but now it was well-established and looked like it had been there for decades. Tall trees were shipped in and mature shrubs planted, all to give the illusion that the garden was old. The most striking feature, and the most expensive according to Rosie, was the long verdant yew hedge. Rosie explained that yew was very slow growing, but she had them shipped in from Europe already ten years old.

“It’s funny to think those saplings were growing before I’d even met Marcus.” She gestured over to the perfectly clipped wall of green that surrounded the entire perimeter of the garden. The yew hedge stood at about twelve-feet high and gave the house an enclosed feeling. It was reassuring and offered a perfect backdrop for her late-flowering snow-white, mophead hydrangeas and the pink nerines which gave a very welcome blast of color just before winter shut down the garden.

“You’re lucky the house is on a hill or that enormous hedge would’ve blocked out that incredible lake view,” Sandra said.

“Yes. We have the best of both worlds.” Rosie took them along the little paths that meandered through the larger garden shrubs. The rhododendrons had done their blooming for the year and already the buds were growing for next season. And even though the two ancient Elms at the back of the house had lost their leaves, the maples were a riot of furious red and burnt orange.

“I wanted to do something similar to what you did for Halloween,” Rosie told her mother. “Of course, I need to hurry up or the trick-or-treating will be over before I’ve even hoisted my haystacks!”

Popsy looked at her daughter and raised an eyebrow. “Rosie, tomorrow is Halloween so you might want to think about it for next year.”

“No, no. I’ll do it this afternoon. It’s all good,” Rosie said and smiled.

Popsy was happy that her daughter seemed to be in a much better mood. At least she had one child whose life was heading in the right direction.

After about half an hour of enjoying Rosie’s garden, she and Sandra took their leave. Marcus was the saddest to see them go. He liked the car very much.

Sandra was quiet as they headed home. “They really have it all, don’t they?”

“Rosie and Marcus? It sure looks that way, but I guess we never really know.”

“Yes, but he’s a wonderful guy, and good-looking, too. They have a beautiful house with a spectacular garden and great views, but the best thing is that little grandchild of yours. I envy them. I guess I envy you.”

“Sandra, you and I know better than to be jealous of others. The truth is, we never have a notion of what’s going on in somebody else’s house. I hope Rosie and Marcus are okay, and I think they are, but how do any of us have any idea of what the future holds? The trick is to enjoy today.” She looked over to Sandra to gauge her mood. “What’s that sign you have hanging in your bathroom?”

“ ‘Don’t waste time waiting for the storm to pass. Love, laugh, and dance in the rain.’ ”

“That’s it. You have to remember to keep dancing.”

Sandra looked contemplative for a moment. “Okay, I may not be loving or laughing a lot, but I’m dancing. Believe me, I’m dancing as fast as I can.”

Chapter 16 

Rosie’s Choice

Rosie had a decision to make. That’s what it boiled down to now. Was she going to do what Marcus wanted or stand up for herself? If she bent to his wishes, she would demean herself and do something that might lead to the destruction of their relationship.

    There were important things to consider. Would once be enough for him? Would he become addicted to “swingers’ ” vacations? He’d started calling it “The Lifestyle.” More like “life wreckers,” she thought.

What if she put her foot down? What if she told him this was not what she wanted to do because it would rob them of something sacred, something intimate that up till now only they had shared? She sighed and sat down at her computer. If she stood firm and refused to do this, he’d go without her. It was that simple. Either swing with him or be left swinging solo. As for the intimacy thing, it was no secret they’d both had partners before they got married. So, this thing about what “only they shared” was a kind of bogus. At least that’s what Marcus had said to her when she’d tried to make that argument to him.

“What are we? Born again virgins?” Then he laughed at his own joke. It was true. The first time they’d had sex was before they’d even started dating. It was at their Christmas party. Rosie had thought he was very attractive, and one thing led to another pretty darn fast. Only after that first encounter did they start to date. Sex was just a physical thing for Marcus, and back then it had been the same for Rosie. But the years
had
changed her, and now for her it was intimate and private. How could she explain that in a way he would understand? Anytime she tried, she failed.

Reluctantly, Rosie switched on her computer. She put the words “Swingers” and “Caribbean” into the search engine, and to her surprise, there were one hundred and twenty-five thousand results. “In only twenty-five seconds,” she said. Well, she must not be the only person who’d researched the subject.

There were luxury vacations in St. Lucia for couples only. She clicked on the first one she saw. It certainly looked classy enough. Very luxurious and five stars was about as good as it gets. Then to her dismay, or perhaps delight, she realized it wasn’t a swingers’ resort but just a couples one.

Next she came across Amor Travel on the Riviera Maya in Mexico. The waters were light turquoise blue and the sand snow white. It looked gorgeous. Then she read: Couples only. Clothing optional.

Ohmygod!

In a panic, she minimized the page and went to check on Natasha, fearful that her daughter might catch her. The little girl was glued to the television, which usually would’ve delighted Rosie because it gave her all the time she needed to e-mail friends and Facebook. But today she would have been happy if Natasha was demanding her attention.

“Everything okay, Nat?” Without looking away from the box, the little girl nodded.

Rosie had no more excuses. She went back to the computer and reopened the page.

“Secluded ambiance,” she read quietly. “Well, it should be if they’re serious about doing what they’re doing—in public.” She snorted.

She was somewhat relieved to see a “house rules” icon. Maybe there was some sanity in this place. There was something about dressing appropriately in all the restaurants and a strict no drugs policy. She hoped alcohol was the exception because there was no way she could do this without at least one bottle of wine inside her.

Another rule was no intimacy with staff members. She liked the sound of that.

The last rule was: Please respect all other guests and remember that no means NO.

This was too much to think about, so she shut down the website and went to watch
ScoobyDoo!

Twenty minutes later she was back. She had to resolve this wretched matter or her husband would. This time she bounced into another resort altogether. The place looked even more upscale. It wasn’t at all seedy like she’d been expecting. The couples in the photographs looked like honeymooners and not porn stars. The resort insisted it was only for the open-minded and those into “experimentation.” It talked about feeling free to explore and discover new and exciting possibilities.

Puh-lease, she thought. Just call it what it is—an orgy.

She clicked on the “Lifestyle Hotels” option and saw they had places all over the world. Rosie had already decided if she was going anywhere, it would be the Caribbean. At least that way she could get a good suntan while she was turning down all those “open-minded” guys—if there were any. Ironic, she realized. If anybody approached her, she’d die but if they didn’t, she’d be crushed. What did she want?

The chain was called Broader Horizons. Their slogan was: Where our horizons are as broad as yours. There was a nice-looking resort in Mexico, just south of Playa del Carmen. She’d never been there before. Perhaps she could leave the resort some days and go shopping while Marcus was doing . . . whatever. The idea had merit.

She looked through the hotel’s highlights. There was a clothing-optional swimming pool. Oh joy, she thought. She could even wear a bikini. Maybe if she kept her glasses on and her book held high, everybody would leave her alone.

There was a clothing-optional Jacuzzi, too. Better to give that a wide berth. Who knew what was swimming around in that hot tub of desire? There was a sensuous playroom for couples only. No getting around that one. The only playrooms she’d ever been in were full of five-year-olds. The Barbies and balls in this would be of a very different variety.

Rosie clicked on the resort’s home page. “Enjoy a vacation where your life is without boundaries. Redefine yourself,” it promised, but this scared her. She’d worked hard to build her boundaries, and she’d happily defined herself as a loyal wife and mother. Now this vacation was threatening to take all of that away.

Public sex was not permitted.

Hallelujah, she thought. The resort seemed to have some standards.

Sex was permitted in the hotel lounge, on the beach and in the sea, in the Jacuzzi, in the playroom, and in the pools. That was more sex than she’d had on her honeymoon. Dammit, how much sex did people need these days? Whatever happened to quality and not quantity?

The resort also had tennis courts, and Rosie wondered if she would be allowed to wear a sports bra. Playing in the nude would be a challenge, for sure. It brought a whole new meaning to “eye on the balls,” as her old tennis coach used to say.

There were special evenings of entertainment, too: Costume night. She could guess what it would be like. Tropical and monsoon night—the mind boggled. The Saturday slumber party—doubtless everybody slept together that night, for a change. The Monday night alternative party. She wondered if that was the night you actually went home with your partner, because he was probably the only person you hadn’t seen all week.

There was another thing that put her off. All the people in the photographs were skinny. Would she be the only chubby tourist? If so, she’d surely be left behind. Had any of those girls had babies yet?

Either way, she would have to go on the biggest diet of her life. She didn’t really plan to sleep with anybody other than her husband, but there was a good chance she was going to get her butt pinched, or at the very least, checked out. She would need to be able to hold her own in a bikini, or worse.