Wellesley Wives (New England Trilogy) (42 page)

“Uh, yes, I was, actually.” Matt looked at Natasha for a moment but then he turned to Lily. “I’m moving to the Hong Kong office.”

“What?”

“I’m moving to Hong Kong. In fact, that’s why I was working all night. I’m kind of operating on Hong Kong time now. I love Boston and it will always be home, but it’s a serious promotion and you know I want to move up the corporate ladder.” He smiled at her and looked almost bashful

“Wow,” she said. “It sure will be quiet around the office without you. We’ll really miss you, Matt.”

“You’re going away?” Natasha looked panicked.

Matt squeezed her little hand. “I have a new job, Nat. A bigger one in a city called Hong Kong. It’s pretty far from here, but we can Skype if you’d like. We don’t have to stop being friends.”

“I Skype Daddy when he’s away on his airplane. I can Skype you, too.” Then she turned her attention back to the enormous plate of fries that had just arrived.

Lily was still digesting the information. “Matt, I really am happy for you.” Then a thought hit her. “A couple of weeks?”

“I’m wrapping things up here now.”

“Wow, that’s fast.”

“Yep. I just wanted to tell you rather than have you hear it around the office. And while we’re on the subject, I wanted to apologize for ragging on you about your promotion and your dad and all that. It was really cruel.”

She gave him a tiny nod. It was difficult to talk about because deep-down she wondered if perhaps there was some truth to it. In the back of her mind, the idea had been festering ever since Matt’s outburst.

“I don’t want to argue with you, but do you really believe I got my promotions because of my dad?”

He shrugged. “Who knows how the minds of management work? Either way, I should never have said what I did. It was really unprofessional, not to mention idiotic. I’m sorry.”

“I thought you’d already apologized for that. The lilies, remember?”

“Ah, yes, but I kind of felt that Jack Hoffman got in the middle of us that time.”

“Okay, already,” Natasha said. “Can I have another Shirley Temple?”

Lily was relieved that her niece was there. It kept the mood light and stopped them from saying too much. Matt seemed relieved, too. He laughed and raised his hand to get the waiter’s attention. That’s when Lily saw him stifle a yawn.

“Oh, Matt, I just realized you’ve been up all night and now we’re keeping you up all day. You have to sleep some time.”

He waved her concerns away. “What, and miss ice cream?” He smiled at Natasha.

The little girl looked at him and grinned, and when her multicolored sundae arrived, she looked like she’d won the lottery.

“Matt,” she said digging into the mountain of dessert, “will you marry my auntie?”

Lily almost choked on her cappuccino, and even Matt was speechless for a moment. Then he burst out laughing.

“What can I say—kids.”

“Yeah—kids.” Lily said, but her voice came out as a squeak, and she wished the floor would open.

Then Matt leaned over the table and whispered to Natasha, “I can’t even get a date with your Auntie Lily, Nat, and now I think she’s in love with somebody else.”

Natasha shook her head. “I know all about Uncle Jack, but I like you better,” she said without taking her eyes off the ice cream.

“Maybe, but I’m moving to Hong Kong, too, so it’s really not possible, honey. Now, can I have a taste of your ice cream?”

Lily just sat there, dumbfounded. How did a five-year-old come up with this stuff? What a kid. Was she really going to forfeit having babies because Jack already had his? They were going to have to have a very serious talk about children.

It was mid-afternoon by the time Matt drove them home. Lily could see how exhausted he was, having been up for over thirty hours by then.

“I would love to ask you up, but you need your sleep. Are you going back in to the office tonight?”

He nodded. “I’ll work by night and sleep by day for the next few weeks, just to ramp up to the move.”

“Very impressive,” she mumbled.

“I could help you again tomorrow if you like.”

“Yay!” Natasha bounced up and down. “Maybe we can go to the zoo or on a big boat.”

Lily laughed. How could she fight her niece? “Are you sure you want to?”

“Heck yeah, it’s a blast. I love kids, and it’s good to clear the head after a night of number crunching.”

“When will you sleep?”

“On the flight to Hong Kong.”

“Go home, and go to bed right now, Matt Hamilton. If you feel like it, swing by in the morning or call me if that works better for you.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Lily kissed him on the cheek and Natasha gave him a big bear hug and kiss good-bye. Then they headed into Lily’s apartment.

Jack was home already. She smelled his aftershave before she saw him, and felt relieved. He must have come home to shower and clean up after a night in a hotel.

“Jack?” she called.

He met her in the living room, but he took one look at Natasha and his marble-faced stare returned. So the fight wasn’t over.

“Natasha, I want you to go brush your teeth. You had a lot of ice cream this afternoon.”

“I love Matt. He plays with me.”

If Lily didn’t know better, she would say Natasha was telling Jack about Matt on purpose. Then she pranced off. Even at five, she could see the adults were going to argue.

“Matt?” Jack asked. “The guy I met here last week?”

Lily nodded. “He’s moving to Hong Kong. We had some business to discuss, so he took Nat and me out for lunch.” Lily wondered why the heck she had to lie. She wasn’t ashamed of going out with Matt. Nothing untoward happened.

“When is he moving?”

“A couple of weeks.”

Jack nodded. He seemed to accept that there was no threat—which of course there wasn’t.

“Look, Jack, we have to talk. Where did you go last night?”

He ignored her question and asked, “How long is she staying?” while jabbing his finger aggressively toward the bedroom door.

“For as long as it takes. Listen, can you and I have a civil conversation about this without it deteriorating into a fight?”

“There’s nothing to discuss. You knew how I felt about children and within a few months of me moving in, you pull this stunt.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Was this the same man she’d fallen in love with over the last year? Her Jack was a soft, caring man with incredible warmth and charm. He was strong, too, but not bitter or selfish. What had changed?

“Jack, I didn’t pull any stunt. My sister needed me and I’m helping her. I’m the same person I’ve always been. What I don’t understand is what’s come over you. I knew you didn’t want kids with Sandra, but I didn’t realize that meant you didn’t want them with me, too. Is that what you’re saying? Because I really do see children in my future, and I want you to be their father.” She said it softly and tried to move toward him, but Jack backed away.

“What is it with women and babies?” he growled at her. “Lily, you know I’ve done the baby thing. My kids are grown. I also happen to be broke and will have to support two ex-wives very soon. Where in the hell do you think I could get the time, energy, or funds to support another baby? I can’t even believe we’re having this conversation. I will have another baby when hell freezes over.”

She looked at him in bewildered amazement. How could their love have disintegrated so fast? Lily felt herself getting dizzy. She had to get to a chair. This was absolute madness. It just wasn’t happening.

“I had no idea you felt so strongly about this,” she mumbled and sat down on the sofa in the living room. “Natasha and I—we’ll move back to Mom’s until she and Sandra get back. We’ll stay out of your hair.”

“There’s no need. Sandra is away and I’ve moved back into The Celtic Crowne until we sort this out.”

“You’ve moved back into Sandra’s?”

Jack looked impatient. “It’s not Sandra’s. It’s mine, too, you know. And I would hardly be staying there if she was. It seems like the perfect solution. I’ll move back in here when the child is gone.”

“The child has a name, Jack. It’s Natasha. She’s my niece, and I love her. I’d thought if you loved me, you would accept her into your life willingly.”

Jack didn’t flinch. “Yes, well, you thought wrong.”

That’s when she realized what was happening. He really was moving out. This wasn’t just a fight. The love of her life was moving out because of Natasha. Or was there more?

“Am I missing something here?” she asked. “Is this all about Natasha, or do you want to go back to Sandra?”

He shook his head. “Did you not hear a word I said? Of course I’m not moving back in with Sandra. She’s in Ireland. I’m moving out because you’re putting a child between us. You’re the one who’s changed the goal posts here, not me. Don’t try to make me the monster. You have a simple decision to make: which do you want more? Me or kids? Because you can’t have both. It’s decision time, Lily.”

Chapter 33 

Working Girls

“It’s decision time, Popsy,” Sandra said in exasperation.

    “It’s just a karaoke night, not the Oscars.”

Popsy was choosing between her black wraparound wool dress and her regular jeans. She put the jeans on again.

“I swear these are getting tight on me. I’ve been eating twice what I do at home. Mrs. Miller’s cooking is just too good. That french onion soup at tea tonight was amazing, and as for the homemade broccoli quiche we had at lunch . . . well, I’m just eating too much.”

Sandra had witnessed her friend’s appetite returning and was delighted with that development. Banagher was definitely working its magic on Popsy. Actually, Sandra wasn’t sure if it was Banagher or Mrs. Miller. Their landlady was a very interesting woman once you got to know her.

Popsy’s near miss with the crane had seemed to unlock something inside her. When Sandra had come back to the pub after her run that afternoon, Popsy was sitting alone at the bar working on her second gin and tonic. Mrs. Miller was polishing glasses and checking on the kegs.

There were two very odd things about this scene: Popsy never drank alone, and she never touched gin. She only drank wine or champagne and now, of course there were mojitos to add to the list. Was Popsy increasing her drinking? Sandra would have been scared if Mrs. Miller hadn’t given her a sort of a half-nod and a sideways glance. She had the situation in hand. With a nod back, Sandra went off to have her post-run shower.

It took her twenty minutes to get the cantankerous hot water system in the downstairs shower to work, but with a little luck she got to it just before the men came in from the marina. There was no doubt they would use up all the hot water. When she finished, she headed back up to her bedroom wrapped only in Mrs. Miller’s old bath towel. That’s when she met a very attractive man coming down the stairs. All he wore was a towel wrapped around his waist. He had a cute accent like Liam Neeson—Irish definitely. When she got up to her tiny bedroom, she was surprised and happy to find a hair dryer in the bedside cabinet. Before she’d finished drying her hair, Popsy arrived and flopped down on her bed.

She told Sandra how she’d almost cracked her skull open with some stupid crane down in the little port and how a nice man had saved her. But she also beat herself up about how stupid she’d been. She was angry because she knew it had been idiotic to put her own life, and the life of that nice man, in danger. Popsy had cried on Sandra’s shoulder and her just blow-dried hair. What turned out to be four gin and tonics were way beyond Popsy’s limit, and her perspective was understandably altered.

Popsy had told Sandra that she thought maybe it was Peter giving her a helping hand. Perhaps he was trying to get her to heaven with him. It’s possible he’d spoken with The Man Upstairs, who’d given him the nod that Popsy could join Peter in heaven, and now this do-gooder had gotten in the way, and she’d missed her chance to be with him.

Sandra was nervous. There was no mention of this on the self-help websites she’d looked at. Popsy cried and wailed that it was her fault Peter was dead, and it should be her in heaven right now. She said that while she was very grateful for everything Sandra was doing, it was like putting a Band-Aid on a broken leg. It couldn’t fix things. Her pain, her guilt, her shame for letting Peter die would never go away. She said it would’ve been better if she’d just died.

Then Popsy collapsed. Sandra thought maybe she’d gotten her wish and suffered a heart attack. She tore down the stairs to find Mrs. Miller.

“I think my friend has had a heart attack,” she yelled.

The landlady followed her up the stairs but with less urgency. Sandra managed to balance the suitcases on top of each other at the bottom of her bed, so Mrs. Miller was able to walk straight in and sit next to Popsy, who was out cold. She felt for a pulse and opened Popsy’s eyelids.

“You’re all right, love.” She turned to Sandra. “I used to be a nurse, so I can tell you I know what I’m talking about. Your friend will live. Popsy, is it?”

“No, Sandra.”

“Her, I meant.” Mrs. Miller pointed to Popsy. “Not you,” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, sorry. She’s Popsy. I’m Sandra.”

“Well, Sandra, I can tell you that your friend is not going to die. Nobody ever died of a broken heart, and that’s the truth. Maybe more’s the pity, but nonetheless, it’s the truth. She’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.” Mrs. Miller got up as if to say the matter was settled.

“So she hasn’t had some sort of attack?”

“No. Sure, I’ve had a broken heart myself. The only thing that’s wrong with her outside of that is the poor child is drunk as a skunk. She’ll sleep it off if you’ll leave her alone now and not be at her.” She turned to leave but then she spotted the sleeping pills next to Popsy’s bed. “Are these hers?” she asked.

“Yes, she’s used them occasionally since her husband died.”

“And he’s gone how long?”

“Almost four months now.

Mrs. Miller looked grave. “There’s a time to use these things and a time to stop. Now is a good time to stop. Put them out of her sight, and if she asks for them, tell her you have no idea where they’ve gone, but tell me, too, mind. I’ll get her busy enough that she sleeps—no problem.”