Return to the Beach House (24 page)

“And what would Grady do?”

“What has he been doing for the past ten years?”

“Everything you just listed.”

“Then what have you been doing?”

“The orders and sales and inventory and trade shows and social media.”

“Oh, my, God—you’re the perfect team.” Angie came forward and threw her arms around Danielle. “Please, please,
please
say you’ll at least think about it.”

It was on the tip of Danielle’s tongue to throw out another excuse why it couldn’t possibly work when she surprised both of them by saying, “How soon do you need an answer?”

“Yesterday.”

“Why are you hesitating?” Bridget asked. “Think of it as an adventure.”

“I’ll have to talk to Grady first.”

Angie reached in her bag, brought out her phone, and handed it to Danielle. “The reception is great here.”

Danielle looked at the phone as if it were the first one she’d seen. “Put up or shut up?”

“Not even close,” said Angie. “More like down on my knees begging.” She put her hands together in a pleading gesture. “You won’t even have to look for a place to stay. Darren is going to move in with me. He can’t sublease the house he’s renting, but he can have as many guests as he wants.” Warming to her subject, she added, “It’s a step above your typical bachelor pad—probably because he’s never there. But he’s not your naked-women-poster kind of guy, so you wouldn’t have to do a lot of redecorating.”

Danielle laughed. “And that’s supposed to excite me?”

“Am I trying too hard?”

“No . . . I understand what it feels like to fight to keep a business from going under,” Danielle said.

“Is that really what’s making you hesitate? Or would it just be too weird for you to work for me?”

“Weird? Yes. Too weird? I don’t think so.”

“That’s how I feel too,” Bridget said.

Danielle and Angie turned to look at her, their expressions filled with question.

“About me going to work for Carrie.”

“What?”
they said in unison.

“When did this happen?” Angie asked.

“This morning.”

“Is it the Asian art thing you two were talking about?” Danielle asked.

“I’m going to be her liaison for acquiring art pieces before they’re exposed to the bloated prices at the auction houses. We can save clients fifteen to twenty percent in fees, even taking the brokerage fee into consideration. Plus we’re free to negotiate a better price.”

“What about school?” Danielle asked. “I thought you were all signed up and determined to get your degree?”

“I am. At least I was. But how can I pass up an opportunity like this? I’m going to be stepping into something I love, with someone I trust. What could be better?”

Danielle studied the phone cradled between her hands before returning it to Angie and reaching for her own. “I’ll be right back.”

Angie lay down and put a hand over her softly rounding belly. “Oh, please let him say yes.”

“I think my hair is coming in curly,” Bridget said, purposely changing the subject. “And that’s why it itches all the time. The ends are twisting around and rubbing against my scalp.”

“It’s not going to work,” Angie said. “You can’t distract me. But I love you for trying.”

Seconds later she abruptly sat up and propped her sunglasses on top of her head. “Let me see.”

Bridget dipped her head. “Feel free to rub it all you want.”

“What the hell . . . I think you’re right. How do you go from stick-straight to ‘Mama made a mistake with the perm’ curly just because it fell out and is coming back in again?”

“It’s called ‘chemo-curl’ and is usually semipermanent. The last of the toxins affects the hair follicle and . . .” She laughed. “. . . And I really don’t give a damn. It is what it is, and I’m going to treat it as if it were a stupid cancer gift. I’ve always wanted curly hair, and now I’ll have it. At least for a while.”

A comfortable silence settled that lasted almost an entire minute before Angie rolled onto her side, propped her head up with her hand, and asked, “Where did you say Miles is now?”

“Mumbai. Why?”

“I was just thinking . . .”

“Yes?”

“Do you suppose there’s any way we could arrange for someone to steal his car?”

Chapter 11

Bridget set a large stainless steel bowl of popcorn on the counter, then went to the freezer to take out four boxes of Junior Mints. “Okay, who goes first?”

“I will,” Danielle said. “I brought
Bridget Jones’s Diary.
”

“Oh, good one,” Bridget said, grinning. “For at least two great reasons.”

“
Pride and Prejudice,
” Angie said.

“Which one?” a chorus of voices demanded.

“PBS.”

“Good thing,” Bridget said, giving voice to the murmur of approvals. “Carrie?”

“
TED Talks—Power Shift.
”

“Noooo—” the chorus responded loudly and plaintively.

“This is the night for mind candy,” Bridget reminded her.

Carrie grinned. “Just kidding—
Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
”

“What about you, Bridget?” Angie prompted.

“
Ghost.
”

“Oh, it seems like forever since we’ve watched that one,” Danielle said. “Better get the tissues.”

Carrie’s phone rang in the other room. “I’ll be right back.”

“Five minutes is all you get,” Danielle said to her retreating back. “Then we’re starting the movie without you.”

“What’s up with her?” Bridget asked.

Danielle filled a bowl and handed it to Angie. “I don’t know. She say anything to you?”

“Nothing.” Angie sprinkled her Junior Mints over her popcorn. “But I know she’s been waiting for a phone call that has nothing to do with work.”

“Ah, ha—that can only mean one thing,” Bridget said. “She’s seeing someone.”

“That can’t be it,” Danielle said. “She would have said something.”

Angie picked up a piece of popcorn and popped it into her mouth. “It wouldn’t be the first liaison she chose not to share with us.”

Danielle made a dismissive wave. “That’s different.”

“Why?” Bridget said.

“I don’t know. It just is.” Danielle thought about it for several seconds. “There are some things too personal to share.”

“With
us?
” Angie protested. “No way.”

“Are you saying you’ve never done something or had something happen to you that left you so embarrassed or humiliated that you’d do or say anything to keep anyone from finding out?”

“I have,” Bridget said.

Jaws dropped in surprise, Danielle and Angie turned in unison to stare at her. Of the four of them, she was the last one they would have thought capable of keeping that kind of secret.

Bridget reached up to run her hand across her bald pate in what had become as much nervous gesture as frustration over the itching. “I should have told you when it happened, but once I realized how much trouble we could get in for wrecking Miles’s car, I decided it was better that you didn’t know.”

“And . . . ?” Danielle prompted.

Bridget took a deep breath. “I knew that cliff was on the other side of the bushes. I wanted everything to happen just the way it did.”

Danielle laughed. “We all did.”

“But I never should have gotten you into that mess, not when the consequences could have been—”

“You can’t possibly think that’s the worst thing any of us has done,” Angie said. “We’ve been incredibly lucky not to get caught, that’s all. There are more ways to get into trouble in Alaska than there are salmon, and in my early, wild-child years there, I sampled a few.” She focused on Danielle. “I don’t want to be pushy, but have you heard from Grady?”

“Not yet. He said he needed a little time to consider the consequences of selling the house, completely uprooting our lives, and, most importantly, leaving his golfing buddies.”

“We have golf courses in Anchorage. Several of them. World-class.”

“You’re lying about the world-class.”

“Depends on your criteria. How many places can you play golf where they give you instructions about bear safety along with your scorecard?”

“You want me to tell Grady
that
?”

Bridget came back to get the napkins, followed by Carrie. Danielle did a double-take when she saw the size of the grin on Carrie’s face. “Good news?”

“The best,” Carrie said. “I’m engaged.”

“Wow,” Bridget said. “I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

“Me either,” said Angie.

Danielle studied Carrie through narrowed eyes as she held her breath for what would come next.

“So, are you going to fill us in?” Angie prompted.

“Don’t leave out anything,” Bridget added.

Carrie glanced at Danielle and gained courage from the knowing look of understanding she saw in her friend’s eyes. “Her name is Diana Hansen.”

“
Finally,
” Bridget exclaimed.

The response wasn’t what Carrie had expected. Not even close. “Finally?”

“We’ve been waiting twenty years for you to come out,” Danielle said.

Carrie struggled for words. “You’ve known all along? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Like?” Danielle said.

Carrie was instantly crying. “Like, it’s okay?”

“Come on, Carrie. How could we? Coming out is a big deal. There was no way we could tell you it didn’t matter unless you said something first. It’s been hard for us to be left on the outside of what’s really going on with you when we can’t keep our mouths shut about our own personal lives. Think of how many times we’ve nagged you about sending pictures of you and whoever you were seeing.”

“And how we’ve gone on and on and on about how cute and brave and wonderful Ellen and Rachel Maddow and Cynthia Nixon are and how fun it would be to know them,” Angie added.

Danielle put her arms around Carrie and gave her a long hug. “Personally, I find it almost impossible to believe that you’ve never picked up on the tension between me and Bridget and Angie about which one of us you liked the best. I told them it was me, but they said no way, it had to be one of them.”

Carrie burst out laughing. “Sorry—but you three are soooo not my type.”

“Then tell us who is. We want to know everything about this woman who’s captured your heart.”

Carrie took her phone out of her pocket and scrolled through a dozen pictures. Diana appeared to be a few years older than Carrie, with streaks of gray in her long black hair. She had an infectious smile and radiated intelligence.

“What does she do?” Bridget asked.

“She’s a prosecutor in the district attorney’s office. Her specialty is child abuse cases.”

“That must be hard,” Danielle said, taking Carrie’s phone and looking at the pictures again. “She looks too sweet-tempered for that kind of job.”

“Early on, a lot of defense attorneys made that mistake. Now her reputation precedes her. A case is more likely to be plea-bargained than prosecuted when the defense discovers she’s involved.”

“When is the wedding?” Angie asked. “It’s a perfectly selfish question. I’d spend the whole time feeling sorry for myself if I couldn’t be there.” She let out a dramatic sigh. “And you know that wouldn’t be good for the babies . . . or their mother.”

The rest of them groaned.

“You’re really going to have to work on your delivery, Angie,” Bridget said. “I’ll give you some pointers later.”

“Okay, so I went a little far this time. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. I really will feel bad if I can’t be a part of this wedding.” She frowned. “Are we going to be bridesmaids or groomsmen? I’m not up on the protocol for gay weddings.”

Carrie looked from Bridget to Danielle to Angie. “I love you—all of you. Next to Diana, you are the most important people in my life. I wish I’d been braver—and more trusting—and told you about being gay from the beginning.”

“Me too,” Bridget said. “It would have been easier to dish about the bad relationships you’ve suffered through over the years if we’d been able to use the correct pronoun.”

Danielle’s phone vibrated. She and Angie exchanged looks before Angie crossed the fingers on both hands. “It’s Grady,” she said. “I’m going to take this outside.”

“Can I come?” Angie asked.

“No.”

“I promise I won’t say anything,” she pleaded.

“Didn’t your mother tell you not to make promises you knew you wouldn’t keep?”

When Danielle was gone, Angie busied herself getting the salt shaker out of the cupboard while Bridget poured three glasses of wine and one sparkling water. Angie’s hands were visibly trembling when she tucked them under her arms and burst out crying.

Bridget handed her a napkin. “Isn’t it interesting how every article you read insists that being pregnant is the happiest time of your life and in real life you’re always either crying or about to?”

“Look at the bylines,” Carrie said. “The articles are written by men.”

“Danielle has no idea how much this means to me,” Angie said.

“I don’t understand,” Bridget said. “Is this happening just because you’re having twins?”

“I thought I had the time frame worked out. I was going to fly until the seventh month and then go to Fairbanks to make sure everything was working there and then come home a couple of weeks before the baby was due.”