Wellesley Wives (New England Trilogy) (34 page)

The meet-and-greet session was held in the main dining hall. Tables flanked the edges of the room, and in the center was a dance floor. The building was designed to look like a giant beach hut. Instead of walls, it had thin white tree trunks crisscrossed in an X-shape to hold up the thatched roof. Sliding doors for bad weather were well concealed behind bamboo screens. Air conditioning blasted from hidden vents in the straw roofing, and the gentle music serenaded them from more speakers disguised as rocks. For later, there was a bandstand set up and ready to go, and beside that a podium with a microphone. Was that for karaoke later? If it was, she would sing “Jolene” by Dolly Parton and see if the women in the room got the message. Swinging aside, though, it had a nice ambience.

The center of the dance floor was where everybody stood now, holding a drink and trying to mingle. To her relief, they were all fully dressed. She wore cream-colored silk pants and a gold-colored string top. Over this she had a light brown cotton jacket. She’d succeeded in keeping her body covered, and she still looked like a million dollars. Funny how just a few months could make such a difference. Her mother told her it wasn’t the weight loss but the tightening up of everything that made her look so good. Tonight, for the first time in her life, she was worried about looking too good. She shouldn’t have worried, though. There was every kind of person here. Some were very glamorous and beautiful and others were normal, next-door-neighbor types.

Marcus got them both a gin and tonic then took her by the arm to “mingle.”

Pretty soon they were talking to a British couple who’d also just arrived.

“Is this your first time at Broader Horizons?” the lady asked them.

“Yes, it is,” Marcus said. “We have a five-year-old at home, so I guess you could say we’ve been ‘otherwise engaged’ up until now.”

“Oh, congratulations,” the woman said. “A boy or a girl?”

“A little girl—Natasha. Rosie’s mother is taking care of her.”

“You’re Rosie? Hello, I’m Fiona, and this is my husband, John.” Rosie liked the look of Fiona. She seemed very normal. A little older but nice. She had a slight build with very fair skin covered in freckles, blue eyes, a smiling face, and her hair was trimmed into a sensible bob. She didn’t look like a wild child—quite the opposite, in fact. She looked more like a sensible fourth-grade-teacher type.

“I’m Marcus,” her husband said. Rosie managed a smile and a nod. It was the best she could do.

“We’ve been doing this for years, haven’t we, darling?” She turned to John and stroked his cheek.

He gave a thin smile. “Of course, our children are much older than yours. In their teens and one in college.”

Then you should have more sense than this, Rosie thought mutinously. After a few minutes, another couple joined their conversation. They were about the same age as Rosie and Marcus and seemed very giddy. Both hot to trot, she decided and best avoided.

About twenty minutes into the evening, a very beautiful woman stepped up to the podium. A man came up and stood beside her. She switched on the microphone and called for everybody’s attention.

“Can you all hear me?” she asked in a chirpy, cheerleader voice.

On instinct, Rosie disliked her. Of course everybody could hear her. The area wasn’t that big and she had the microphone at full volume. She introduced herself as Mandy and her male companion as Brad and went on about how happy she was that everybody had chosen Broader Horizons. She went over all the facilities they had to offer like the various pools, the private beach, snorkeling classes, the playroom, blah blah blah. Finally she got to the rules that Rosie had read on the website about a million times. Then she reminded everybody that their vacation was primarily about having fun and exploring various options within the confines of a healthy, happy environment.

“And the last thing, but it’s very important. I’d like to remind you all one more time that ‘no means no,’ ” she said with another chipper smile.

Then Brad made his little presentation. He talked about the water skiing classes and the necessity for wetsuits. Ditto the scuba diving. Something to do with rushing water and chafing. She didn’t want to know the finer points.

“So, Fiona tells me this is your first time?” whispered a soft voice in her ear.

She almost jumped out of her skin. It was the English woman’s husband, John or something.

“What? Oh, yes. We’re . . . new to all of this.”

He put his hand on the small of her back and said, “Well, if you’d like an old hand to show you the ropes, as it were, I’d be happy to take you into the playroom. We could have a little fun.” He smiled at her encouragingly and one of his eyebrows disappeared up into his choppy bangs. The man wasn’t unattractive. He had a slim build, with hair that had once been black but was now more gray. She tried to guess his age. Fifty? More? Wasn’t there supposed to be an age limit in this place? she thought. His hair and eyebrows were thick, giving him the look of an American bald eagle. Or was that just the way he was looking at her? Like she was lunch? Rosie backed away from his clammy hand. He was smiling now, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. So this is how the field mouse felt when the eagles were swooping.

She pulled away from his moist hand. “Oh no. I mean, that’s a no.” Then she pasted on what must have been more of a manic smile than a friendly one. “And we all know that no means no,” she said in a voice that was a little too high-pitched while backing away from the wolf in Ralph Lauren clothing.

He nodded. “No problem. Perhaps later in the week,” he said as she retreated, standing on her toes and backing into other people.

The crowd had swelled, and the music was getting louder. The caterers had started bringing platters out to the buffet bar. With any luck, dinner was going to start soon. Where the heck was Marcus? He’d been right beside her all evening, but now he’d disappeared.

She scouted around the gardens, looking for him. Pretty little lollipop-style street lamps lit her way around the pools and flower beds, and she ended up in areas of the complex that she hadn’t seen earlier. She found the infamous “clothing optional” Jacuzzi.

Then she thought she heard something. She walked a little farther, and saw a couple having open-air sex on one of the lounge chairs. Rosie couldn’t believe it. She’d never even seen another couple “doing it” before. The woman opened her eyes and smiled at Rosie. It was shark woman. Rosie couldn’t get away fast enough. She was pretty sure that she could hear the woman laughing, which only made her run faster.

“Hey, babe, there you are. What are you doing out here?” Marcus asked when she ran into him.

“I—I couldn’t find you, so I went to look and I found a couple—oh, Marcus they were having sex by the Jacuzzi. It was that woman who winked at you earlier. She, she—”

He took her shivering body in his arms. “There, there,” he said. “She was a bit overwhelming. Relax, Rosie. Don’t let her get to you. This place is really cool and most of the people I’ve spoken to are very nice and normal. Stay with me, and you’ll be fine. They’re serving dinner, and it looks really good.”

How could he possibly think about food with all this debauchery going on around him?

“I thought you might have found your way to the playroom already. You look so hot tonight.” He gave her butt a possessive squeeze. “Rosie, I’m fine with you going a little wild here, but just remember you’re coming home with me,” he added as he took her by the hand. She liked the sound of that and headed back to the restaurant with him.

“I got us a table with that couple from earlier, Fiona and John. They seemed nice enough.”

Rosie stopped in her tracks. “Oh, Marcus, I’m not sure. I mean—well, if we’re going to be totally honest with each other, I may as well tell you he already propositioned me.”

Marcus laughed. “Good for him for trying. Are you going to go for it?”

Rosie looked at him incredulously. Was she hearing him right? Did he really not care? “No, I’m not. Did you see him? He’s a dirty old man. He could be my father.” She got teary. Now was not a good time to think about her dad.

On top of all this nonsense, she knew that she was still reeling from her father’s death. The problem was that his heart attack had only motivated Marcus even more to do the whole “exploration within marriage” thing.

Back then, Marcus had tried to convince her that her father would have rather gone quickly than survive as an invalid, but Rosie wasn’t just crying about that. That was part of it, but she was also crying about the death of their marriage vows. This she hadn’t shared with him. He just needed to be with other women. She had to get herself together and get with the vacation, or what was the point in coming in the first place?

“I’m okay.” She pulled away. “Really, I am. It’s just getting used to the new rules.”

“But that’s the beauty part of it.” He wiped away a tear. “There are no rules. Now let’s play.”

Dinner with Fiona and John was uneventful. They behaved as if it were a regular dinner, and John didn’t make any moves on her. There were no lascivious looks or wandering hands. The band had started playing calypso music. The atmosphere was perfect. Rosie was also happy to see there was no shortage of white wine.

After the food, people danced. Rosie was aware of couples disappearing together and then reappearing, but it was all very discreet. That’s what this place was for, she reminded herself. A DJ took over after a few hours, and the music went more mainstream. Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” took on a whole new meaning, as did every other song, but she was happy to dance with Marcus. The Spice Girls sang “If You Wanna Be My Lover,” and Enrique Iglesias went on about his “Dirty, Dirty Dancer.” But when Katy Perry sang “I Kissed a Girl,” Rosie asked to sit down again.

With any luck, the night’s festivities were almost over. Maybe she and Marcus could get to bed and their first night would soon be over. Okay, so she’d been propositioned once and seen another couple
in flagrante delicto,
but she’d survived to tell the story, and truth be told, she felt a little more worldly for the experiences. The food, drink, and music were terrific. Marcus was being very attentive. She decided this wasn’t the worst night of her life.

Her husband, it appeared had picked up on her good mood. He leaned in to her.

“You’re having fun, aren’t you, angel?”

She smiled and nodded.

“Would you like to take it up a notch?”

Panic hit her stomach. “What?” she asked, playing for time.

“Fiona tells me there’s a gang heading over to the Jacuzzi. We could go, too, if you like.”

Oh God, oh God, oh God. What could she say? No amount of wine could prepare her for this.

“Uh, Marcus, I don’t think I’m feeling quite that brave just yet.”

He looked unhappy.

“But you go on if you want to.”

His face lit up. “Really? That’s okay with you? It’s just that Fiona wanted to take me into the playroom earlier, and I said no because of the situation with John. But I mean, this is what we’re here for. You won’t mind if I go? You could join us as soon as you feel up to it. Or . . . would you like me to wait with you?”

She knew that that would be even worse. She’d have an insufferable time sitting there watching everybody else going off to some kind of screw fest. That was all Marcus really wanted. If she really loved him, she had to let him go. Isn’t that what all the songs said? It was time to set Marcus free.

“Go.” She smiled. “I think I’ll take a walk. Who knows, I might even end up in the Jacuzzi with you,” she said, lying smoothly.

Marcus stood. “Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” And she was. She was sure there was no way she was going to end up in that Jacuzzi—not ever.

Chapter 28 

No Smoke Without Fire

“Come on, sleepyhead. It’s Monday, and we go back to Boston today,” Popsy said as she woke Sandra with a cup of strong coffee and her favorite Irish fruit scones. “Our driver will be here in an hour, and you still have to pack.”

    Sandra groaned and rolled over in her super-comfortable bed. She had turned in early, but she was still in bad shape. All day Sunday she’d been in a haze and only now—a full day and night after her drinking binge with her new buddy, Simon—was she starting to feel half-human. She pulled herself up into a sitting position.

“Thanks, Popsy,” she said, but she’d already gone to pack. In reality, it wasn’t two nights of sleep, because she didn’t get in until about eight on Sunday morning. In her party state of mind, she’d insisted that Simon come back to the hotel with her, and he’d crashed out in her room. That’s how she’d ended up in Popsy’s bed.

Popsy was furious when she found out, and it became clear pretty quickly that Sandra wasn’t in any state to wander around Trinity. Popsy didn’t say anything, but she was pretty frosty when Sandra did surface around mid-afternoon on Sunday.

Simon had headed back to what would doubtless be just as chilly a reception from Jeff, but neither he nor Sandra minded. They’d had a lot of fun. She’d laughed all night, and as for the early house, that was a blast. It was full of late-night revelers who didn’t want to go home, either. Three guys had made passes at her—three. And that wasn’t counting Simon who spent the night and morning telling her she was gorgeous and what a fool Jack Hoffman had been.

It was just the medicine Sandra needed to feel loved and admired. Popsy was a good friend, but she hadn’t been in a position to support her that much over the last few months. In all honesty, Sandra had put the big, ugly crises that was her life in a box and locked it away while she focused on Popsy. That’s what Simon said anyway, and it made a lot of sense. Still, she felt bad about not getting to Trinity or the famous Bewleys’s on Grafton Street. She’d been looking forward to that. Rumor had it that they had the best scones anywhere.

Popsy came back in.

“Hi there,” she said, but Sandra could hear the edge.

“Look, I’m sorry I missed most of yesterday. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but I guess I just needed to let off a little steam.”