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Authors: Wendy Wax

A Week at the Lake (35 page)

BOOK: A Week at the Lake
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“This chocolate cake was definitely worth getting up for,” Adam announced.

“And I'm not?” Zoe asked, pretending shock.

Emma looked up as Serena snapped a photo of Adam and Zoe wearing appallingly similar expressions.

Serena, who'd set down her phone and was once again eating cake, noticed Emma's questioning glance. “I'm not much of a photographer, but, well, I know we're pretty much at the end of our stay. And I thought I'd put together one of those photo books of Zoe's birthday celebration for all of us to remember.”

“Cool!” Zoe said with an enthusiasm Emma didn't feel. “I bet there'd be fewer wars if more people ate chocolate cake for breakfast,” her daughter observed as she finished her last bite.

“No doubt.” Emma smiled. “Maybe we should start a movement. See if we can get an armada full of them shipped to the Middle East or something.”

“I'm in,” Serena said. “I just need one more sliver to get properly motivated.”

Emma waited for Zoe to lick the last bits of chocolate off her fingers then retrieved a black velvet box from the pile of presents and placed it in front of Zoe. “This is from me. And Gran.” Her voice was hushed as she waited for Zoe to pull off the ribbon and open the box. “Gran gave these to me when I turned sixteen. Now it's your turn to wear them.”

Zoe's eye pooled with tears as Emma fastened the string of perfectly matched pearls around her neck. She looked at Emma. “I expect you to be here when it's time for me to give these to my daughter.”

Emma pulled Zoe into a hug even as her eyes filled with tears. “You just try to keep me away.”

“Oh, my God. Stop it.” Serena's voice broke the weighty silence. “You're wrecking my sugar high with all those tears.”

Emma nodded numbly as she let go of Zoe, but it took considerable effort to shut off the waterworks. She couldn't even look at Mackenzie.

“I agree with Serena,” Adam said. “I feel like we've stumbled into some Nicholas Sparks movie. Crying over birthday cake is way too maudlin.”

“Well, I think the pearls look especially lovely with Zoe's pajamas,” Serena quipped as she picked up her phone again and framed a shot of Emma and Zoe. “You all squish closer so I can get all four of you.” She waved Adam and Mackenzie into position next to Emma and Zoe.

“Nadia, will you get a shot of all of us?” Mackenzie asked. “I think we need at least one with Serena in her pajamas without makeup—just in case she finds herself tempted to post anything of us to Facebook.”

“I want one with Nadia in it, too!” Zoe said.

Adam, who had the longest arms, volunteered to take the “selfie” of all of them. Then he took one of Emma, Serena, Mackenzie, and Zoe. “For posterity,” he said.

Emma offered up a small prayer that tomorrow's confession didn't prevent them from ever wanting to be in a room with her again let alone close enough to fit in a photo.

“Here, open mine,” Mackenzie said, pushing a gaily wrapped box toward Zoe.

“But you already gave me my outfit that we designed together.”

“This is just a little something extra,” Mackenzie said.

Zoe opened the box and shrieked with happiness. “You made the sundress, too!”

Mackenzie's smile was brittle, but bright. “And if you'd like we could probably turn the gown Eve gave you into something a little more age appropriate.”

Emma braced for Zoe to reject the offer in favor of keeping
it for her acceptance speech, but Zoe threw her arms around Mackenzie and then around Adam while Serena continued to snap photos. “This is all so great. Thank you!”

Next she opened a gift bag from Nadia. It contained a DVD of
Doctor Zhivago
. “We watch one night. Omar Sharif pretty hot for bridge player. I show you where Nadia from.”

“My turn.” Serena put down her camera and pushed the last, appallingly wrapped, gift closer to Zoe. They watched her unwrap the oddly shaped package.

“Oh, how perfect.” Emma smiled.

“I may not know how to gift wrap.” Serena shot Mackenzie a look. “But I understand the importance of a theme.” She lifted her phone to get a shot of Zoe holding up her new tote bag. It was designed by Kate Spade and had big black letters that proclaimed,
EAT CAKE FOR BREAKFAST
. There was a matching iPhone cover inside along with an
As the World Churns
T-shirt to replace the one that had been sacrificed to Zoe's new outfit. The last item was an exact duplicate of Georgia Goodbody's fan.

“The fan's from Ethan,” Serena said. “But I can teach you how to bat your eyes behind it and look mysterious. If done properly this can turn a man into your slave.” She sighed as she flipped it open to demonstrate. “But you have to remember to use it when it matters most.”

Emma watched her old friend work the fan and bat her eyelashes, though it was obvious her heart wasn't in it. In just twenty-four hours Emma wouldn't have anything left to hide behind. Not even a fan.

Thirty-six

C
ome and get 'em!” Jake Richards held up a metal triangle and dinged it loudly. “The ribs are officially ready for consumption.”

The day had been mild and as the sun began to slip in the sky, the breeze was just strong enough to keep the mosquitoes at bay. The deep pungent scent of barbecuing meat wafted on that breeze. Paper lanterns swayed gently on the tree branches and twinkled above the picnic table that had been covered in a brightly checked tablecloth. Large earthenware bowls of Martha's homemade coleslaw and potato salad anchored the cloth. Bottles of red and white wine sat open and ready; beer had been tucked in the cooler. Nadia had contributed and chilled several bottles of Stolichnaya “
w
otka,” which she referred to as the “Neketar of the Gods” and offered around for a birthday toast. Cookies, brownies, and birthday cupcakes as well as what remained of that morning's birthday cake had been plated for dessert.

Emma lined up behind Zoe, who glowed with excitement. Her hair had been drawn into a messy knot at the nape of her neck. Her makeup was subtle, a soft blush on her cheekbones, her lips stained a warm red. Her emerald green eyes framed in sooty lashes sparkled with happiness. The crop top and patchwork skirt skimmed her curves without clinging and exposed her long graceful limbs as well as a small, tasteful rectangle of skin just above her waist. Mackenzie stood behind Emma.

Ryan, who'd been helping his father, placed a small rack of ribs on Zoe's plate.

“Hang on!” Serena stepped up and raised her phone. “Let me get a shot of that.”

Zoe blushed prettily as Ryan moved closer for the shot.

“Perfect!” Serena shifted slightly to snap a photo of the line as Zoe and Ryan carried their plates to the beach.

“Here you go.” Jake put a small rack of ribs on Emma's plate and shot her a wink, which Serena duly documented. “There's hot and mild sauce over on the table,” he added. “As I recall you're a hot and spicy girl.”

Emma laughed. “You do say the sweetest things.” She batted her lashes much as Serena had demonstrated that morning and channeled a little Georgia Goodbody of her own. Tonight was for enjoying. Tomorrow, well, tomorrow would come soon enough.

“Well done,” Serena said after capturing the shot. “Thank God you've remembered how to flirt. I'm thinking that's a sign that someone's feeling better.”

Jake handed Serena a plate of ribs then filled one for Mackenzie. While the two didn't exactly throw their arms around each other and announce a formal truce, they weren't aiming poison darts at each other, either. The three of them made their way to the table.

Zoe's laughter carried to them from the beach. Emma looked and saw her daughter leaning toward Ryan and looking up at his smiling face.

“She looks so adorable in that outfit,” Emma said to Mackenzie as they neared the table. “And I know what a great time she had working on it with you.”

“It was fun. She's very talented.” Mackenzie dropped her eyes and Emma could see how eager she was to change the subject. Did she think of the child she never had every time she looked at Zoe? If anyone should have been a mother, it
was Mackenzie. But life rarely turned out the way it “should” as she knew firsthand. And it was rarely fair.

“May I say that I think both of those Richards men are very hot?” Serena asked.

“You may,” Emma replied, more than happy to keep things light. “Though I'd feel a little more comfortable if Zoe's first date was with someone slightly less attractive and polished than Ryan. A little social awkwardness can go a long way.”

“So you'd rather your daughter go out with a character actor than a leading man?” Serena asked.

“Absolutely,” Emma replied.

“I agree with Em,” Mackenzie said. “Even at our ages, an Ethan Miller, say, is a better and safer choice than a Brooks Anderson.”

Emma noticed that this time it was Serena who dropped her eyes. The plot thickened. “Speaking of Brooks, why didn't you invite him?” Emma asked.

“When you nap too much you miss the occasional minidrama.” Serena sighed contemplating the plate of ribs before finally meeting Emma's eye. “He's done a bit of a vanishing act. And the last time I tried to reach him his wife answered the phone.”

“But I thought his marriage was over,” Emma said.

“Yeah, me too.” Serena frowned. “But as Mackenzie has pointed out, even when I think I'm not dating married men, I'm dating married men.”

Emma considered both women. Was it Mackenzie's observations about Brooks that had set them off that morning? Whatever had happened she was not going to disturb the fragile peace between them.

They fell silent as they helped themselves to coleslaw and potato salad. Adam and Jake chatted next to the grill, pausing to accept a shot glass of Stoli from Nadia. The three raised and clinked their glasses. “
Nostrovia
!” Adam laughed and slammed the shot glass down triumphantly.

“Maybe you should check with Brooks and not just take her word for it,” Emma said to Serena.

“His wife was in his hotel room, Em. She said he was in the shower and couldn't come to the phone.” Serena shivered at the memory. “Even if she was lying, they're not exactly uninvolved in each other's lives.”

Serena composed her features, but Emma could see how much effort it took to hide the hurt. She wondered how Serena's disappointment would come into play when Emma dropped her bombshell tomorrow. Whose side would Serena come down on when the shit hit the fan?

Emma pushed these worries aside as they started on their food. It took exactly one bite to discover that Jake had not exaggerated his grilling expertise. Martha's sides were a perfect addition.

A cell phone rang. Nadia walked away from the group to answer it.

Emma finished a rib then licked the sauce from her fingers. “So how are you feeling about California?” she asked Mackenzie.

Mackenzie set down her fork, dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. “I don't know. I mean, I think I'm almost over the shock of it.” Her eyes strayed to her husband, who was laughing and regaling Jake with some story that had him chortling. “He looks so happy. And I'm really glad for him.” She hesitated. “But I'm just not sure I can pick up and leave our . . . whole life . . . anywhere near as quickly or easily as Adam apparently can.”

Adam slapped Jake on the shoulder and tilted another shot of vodka to his lips. Adam had always known how to move on, had always kept his eye on the prize. It was, Emma thought, quintessentially Adam that he didn't seem to realize how easily mistakes could come back to haunt you.

“This summer has been a prime example of how quickly things can change,” Serena said. “One minute you're dating the man you thought you'd never see again. The next his wife is
in his hotel room telling you to take a hike.” She blew a bang off her forehead. “Then there's the even more critical ‘one minute you're eating lunch in an expensive restaurant and the next you're in a coma,'” Serena said. “Life really can turn on a dime.”

Emma considered the two women she'd once felt so close to. After Gran they'd been the nearest thing to family she'd ever had. Her fear of losing them had caused her to lie; maintaining the lie had pushed them out of her life anyway. “This summer has been a great big reminder to me of what matters most,” Emma said. “And a lesson that having people you love and who love you is more important than anything else.” She looked Serena and Mackenzie in the eye, felt tears well in her own. She'd made such a mess of everything. “I just.” She swallowed, made herself continue. “I just want you to know that whatever happens, I love you both. You are the sisters I never had.”

“Okay, now you're freaking me out,” Serena said. “You haven't heard something from Mount Sinai or either of your doctors?”

“No.” Emma found a smile. “My brain feels . . . good.” Her heart, on the other hand, hurt like hell.

Jake and Adam came to join them at the table. “We're going to head out in a bit,” Jake said. “Don't even ask me why I agreed to chaperone this party.”

“Those young girls have to have somebody to crush on,” Emma teased, once again pushing her sense of foreboding aside. “But don't tell any of their mothers how great you are with a grill. I think we should keep that our little secret.”

“My lips are sealed.” Jake smiled. “Unless of course you'd like to ‘use them.'”

Serena took a picture of Jake placing a fish-faced kiss on Emma's cheek. Then a shot of Adam and Mackenzie, who sat side by side but seemed not to be touching. Zoe and Ryan came up and joined them at the picnic table and she took a picture of them, too.

Nadia delivered the dessert platter to the table then lit a
sparkler she'd placed in the fanciest cupcake. Their third, final, and most wince-worthy version of “Happy Birthday” followed as the sun slid further down the sky.

“I told you we should have practiced this afternoon,” Serena said as she framed and shot more pictures.

Smiling more happily than Emma had ever seen her, Zoe opened the Richardses' gift. It was an antique frame that held a double photo; one of Emma and Jake lounging on the floating dock as children, the second of Ryan and Zoe digging in the sand of the lake house beach as toddlers.

It was a beautiful reminder of their ties to these people and this place. Emma clutched it to her chest, waving good-bye as Ryan, Jake, and Zoe climbed into Ryan's runabout and motored out of the cove.

A
fter they'd cleared the table and put the leftovers away, Nadia departed on the scooter for a date with her librarian. Too tired to continue pretending that the loss of Brooks Anderson was no more than a blip on her emotional radar screen, Serena retreated to her room. Propped up in bed, she booted up her laptop and pulled up all the birthday photos she'd taken.

For a time she lost herself in moving them around the screen, positioning them next to each other, in an effort to weed out the unflattering shots that no one would want saved for posterity. She then agonized over the shots in which some looked far better than others and set aside the funniest to insert periodically to give the photo book some semblance of pace and flow.

The stress on Mackenzie's face next to the happiness on Adam's was telling. So were her own tight-lipped smiles, which she knew were in stark contrast to those that would have existed during her brief time with Brooks if only she'd thought to get so much as a photograph to document it. She noticed that Emma's eyes and attention had been focused on Mackenzie and Adam far more often than Serena had realized.

Serena dragged and zoomed, unable to miss the pronounced hurt on Mackenzie's face as she looked at Zoe. But it was the photos of Mackenzie, Adam, and Zoe that made the breath catch in her throat. One photo that she barely remembered taking was of Adam and Zoe with their heads bent together as Zoe blew out the candles on the chocolate cake. It was that photo that made her stop breathing altogether for a long, uncomfortable moment as she tried to absorb what she was seeing.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs accompanied by a cheery whistle. Adam poked his head in her open doorway, his handsome face as content as she'd ever seen it. He held up what remained of the bottle of Stoli. “Do you want a good night shot of ‘
w
otka'?” he asked.

Serena peered at the pictures on her computer screen, then back up at Adam's handsome face.

“What is it?” he asked, brushing the lock of hair off his forehead. His wide-set brown eyes intent. “Are you okay?”

Serena looked from him to the screen, then back at his face, desperately wanting to reject what she was seeing. The knowledge slammed into her like a fist, knocking the breath from her, impossible to ignore. The more closely she studied the photos and Adam, the more perfectly the mental puzzle pieces she hadn't realized she'd been moving around, fit together. The picture they formed was an ugly one.

BOOK: A Week at the Lake
7.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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