A Weekend Getaway Page 2

  “She has four.” Beth felt her hackles rise. “I think Sarah’s a great mom. If anyone should have kids, it’s her.”

  “Well, somebody has to keep the population going.” Ivy reached around and gave Beth another hug. “It’s so good to see you. Do you mind helping me with my luggage? Then I desperately need some retail therapy.”

  “Sounds good. I’d like to look for a souvenir for Emma.”

  # # #

  After visiting the shops on Kirkwood Avenue, Ivy insisted they go drinking. The Blue Note Bar had a short line outside. It had a different name back in the day, but otherwise, it looked the same. Beth allowed herself to feel flattered when the doorman carded her. Once inside, the music blared from the small stage where a band played.

  Unwilling to blow her recent weight loss, Beth ordered a Diet Coke. Ivy requested a Long Island iced tea then dug in her purse. She pulled out her Smartphone. “Let me show you pictures from our trip to Belgium.” She held the screen toward Beth and shuffled through shots of castles and gardens.

  “Those are beautiful.” Beth had to shout to be heard over the music. “I’ve never been to Europe.”

  “Really? You must go. It’s like a whole other world. I’ll give you the name of my travel agent. She put everything together—I mean everything. I didn’t even need to think about what to wear, it seemed.” Ivy tilted her head back, eyes closed. “Can you even believe that? Three weeks of just existing. It was heavenly.”

  Beth knew her vacation days and her small chunk of savings would all go into the Victorian fixer-upper. “Maybe we’ll make the trip in a few years or so.” Or maybe in a few decades.

  The waiter brought their drinks and Ivy fluttered her eyelids at him, ignoring Beth’s remark. “Does the band take requests?”

  The twenty-something in a black T-shirt and tight-fitting jeans shrugged. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Can you recommend something to eat? When you’re barely one-hundred pounds, the alcohol goes straight to your brain.”

  Beth rolled her eyes.

  “The chicken wings are pretty good. Spicy.”

  Ivy smiled at him, twirling her short curls around her finger. “I love spicy things.” He wrote down her order and tucked his pen behind his ear. She watched him walk away before turning her attention back to Beth. “Did I tell you Parker’s business is flourishing?” The band finished a song and for a moment, she didn’t have to yell. “We just broke ground in Wisconsin. I’m sure Mall Land will be as big a hit there as it was in Indiana, Illinois, and Michigan. It’s brilliant, really, to provide free babysitting in a giant indoor playground while parents go shopping. Both kids and adults love it. The money keeps rolling in.”

  Beth remembered Ivy’s husband, Parker, well. She’d taken speech with him her freshman year. When she’d stood to introduce herself on the first day of class, she’d fainted. The handsome upperclassman had caught her, then run to the restroom and brought her cold, wet paper towels for her forehead.

  When it was Parker’s turn to introduce himself, he talked about a club he wanted to start for altruistic people. A few weeks later, he held a call-out for new members and she went mostly to repay him for his kindness. She’d brought Ivy along for moral support. That had been Beth’s fatal mistake.

  Next to Ivy’s skinny, Wonderbra-enhanced body, Beth had felt frumpier than ever, and Parker’s reaction had proven it wasn’t just a feeling. He had lit up when he met Ivy. He even slipped her his number afterwards, “in case she had any more questions about the organization.”

  At the first club party, though, Ivy got a bit of a surprise. Girls fawned all over Parker, bringing him beers and asking him to dance. The sight reinforced Beth’s belief that he’d never go for a stout girl with freckles. Ivy, however, had taken it as a challenge.

  Beth sipped on her drink and watched Ivy bounce her head to the beat of the music. “So you’re still singing?”

  Ivy nodded. “I have a regular gig at a local jazz place. I keep trying to talk Parker into moving to Chicago where there’s a bigger music scene. But he feels loyal to Indiana, the birthplace of his Mall Land empire.” With a frustrated look on her face, Ivy pushed away from the table. “I think I’m going to show these guys how it’s done.” She headed toward the band. Walking up to the lead singer, she whispered something in his ear. He scrunched his face as if he couldn’t understand her. When she handed him some folded bills and moved her lips near his ear again, he smiled and talked to the guitarist and drummer. Ivy took the microphone and sauntered toward center stage. Her favorite spot.

  The music started and Ivy sang Adele’s “Someone Like You.” Beth had to admit, her friend had the lungs and the hauntingly beautiful voice to pull it off. If the right person with the right connections heard her, she could still make it big time, and as for Beth…

  A touch of melancholy stirred inside of her. There’d never been anything special about her and that’s why she had to work harder than everyone else to get noticed. But even that approach failed her lately.

  What was she going to say tomorrow night at the banquet? Don’t eat every time you feel lonely or sad. Don’t fall in love with your best friend’s guy. Don’t settle for living together if you want to be married. Don’t do anything that I have done.

  She decided to try calling home again to let Drew know that she’d made it. Seeking a quiet place to talk, she stepped out into the cold darkness and dialed. It rang and rang, but he didn’t answer. She paced up and down the sidewalk waiting for the machine to click on. “Um, hi. I’m here with Ivy. Just wanted to see how the repair went.” Hanging up, her gaze landed on a young man and woman laughing as they walked by arm-in-arm. She almost envied them—their whole lives ahead of them.

  A voice came from behind her. “Beth, is that you?” She turned to see Sarah, another old friend from college, dressed in a black pea coat with a turquoise scarf.

  When Beth hugged her, she was careful not to pull the light brown hair that hung all the way down Sarah’s back. “Glad you could make it.”

  “My youngest woke up with a cold and I considered staying home, but my hubby insisted I come. He’s such a saint.”

  “Motherhood is a twenty-four/seven job without vacation or sick leave. You’ve more than earned a weekend off, I’m sure.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” They stood outside, hearing Ivy’s alto vibrato through the open door. Sarah pointed toward the crowded bar. “Should we go in?”

  “Tell me about the kids first.” Beth knew all of their names started with the letter ‘r’ but she couldn’t remember the name of the toddler. Guilt reared inside of her since Sarah had once been her closest friend.

  “Everyone is doing well. Homeschooling seems to bring out the best in them. Reese is a finalist in the state science fair, Renee is reading War and Peace even though she’s only thirteen, Riley is doing long division at age seven and Ronnie not only knows his colors, but can spell them.”

  “Wow. You must be so proud.”

  Sarah nodded. “I hope you’ll forgive my bragging.”

  “Of course. You’d never brag about yourself, so you might as well brag about your kids.”

  While she listened to more tales of Sarah’s wonderful family and supportive husband, Beth couldn’t help but wonder why Drew didn’t answer the phone. She also thought about how he’d ducked out of this weekend when she was ready to push for a commitment. Where was he? He said he wanted to work on the house, yet he wasn’t there.

  Sarah looked at her. “Are you all right? You’re frowning.”

  Too bad Ivy had zapped all of her energy. She really would like to catch up with Sarah, but it would have to wait until tomorrow. “I’m not used to late nights any more. Will you tell Ivy I went back to the hotel?”

  She headed down the street, admiring Ivy’s talent and Sarah’s domestic savoir-faire. She wished Drew were here yet she wished Parker had shown, too. She was definitely out of sorts. Wishing it was sixteen years ago. Wishin
g she could make different choices.

  As she keyed into her empty hotel room, she thought of Drew’s niece. Even though Emma had probably been asleep for hours, Beth imagined reading her “Guess How Much I Love You” and giving her a goodnight kiss on her forehead. If Emma’s mother ever got her act together, the three-year-old could be gone in a heartbeat. Beth always swore she’d get married and embrace motherhood when the time was right. She was ready, so ready.

  Grabbing the phone, she dialed Drew’s house. No answer. She dialed his cellphone and heard Spock’s voice say, “Captain, incoming message” from inside her suitcase. She walked over and rummaged through the clothes to discover Drew’s mobile phone at the bottom. He must’ve missed it when he unpacked. He’d found the diamond tie tack and forgotten his cell. Beth dropped the phone in the suitcase and slammed the lid shut.

  Still dressed, she plopped on the burgundy comforter and flipped through the TV channels. A chef pulled a fattening pot pie out of the oven, a news anchor spoke of a recent tragedy, and a late-night comedian told jokes that didn’t make her laugh. Turning the TV off, she stared at the plaster ceiling.

  Some time later, she heard Ivy’s familiar giggle. And what else? A deep voice. A man’s voice, telling Ivy what a great singer she was.

  What was going on? Did Ivy pick up a guy in the bar and bring him back to her hotel room? That certainly wasn’t out of character for the flirtatious undergrad, but she’d been married for years. Ever since Beth’s freshman and her junior year. The year Ivy had a spur-of-the-moment Vegas wedding yet wore a $5,000 hand-beaded white gown. The year all of her dreams came true at the expense of Beth’s.

  Beth couldn’t stand it. She walked to the door and peered out the peephole. Sure enough, she saw a thin man follow Ivy into her room across the hall. Could it have been Parker? No, this man looked too scrawny.

  Her belly rumbled. Darn it! Why hadn’t she thought to pack some Healthy Habits fiber bars? Odds were she wouldn’t find anything low-fat in a vending machine. She slipped her sneakers back on and went into the hall. Eventually, she ended up at the front desk without seeing anything except pop machines. A broad-shouldered man, still dressed for the office, stood with his back to her. He laughed a deep barrel laugh, took the room key from the clerk and turned to face her.

  Her mouth fell open. “Parker DuBois?” He still had short chestnut hair and a jaw that could only be described as chiseled. Handsome and smart. A combination every woman drooled over.

  He blinked at her with a neutral expression.

  “It’s me. Bethany.”

  Then he smiled. Time had added adorable crinkles to the corners of his brown eyes. “I didn’t recognize you without your baseball cap.” Stretching his arms wide, he embraced her. “You look amazing.”

  What he meant was “You’re no longer fat.” Quickly she pulled herself out of his strong arms, knowing better than to get comfortable there. “Ivy said you couldn’t make it this weekend. Did you solve your problem at work?”

  He squinted and looked confused, but only for a moment. “Yes, yes. I didn’t think I could come, but I started missing the old gang. Who knows if we’ll ever get together again?” Sadness touched his features.

  She nodded. She always skipped her high school reunions since those kids had teased her more than they’d been her friends. The members of the Leadership Club, however, had welcomed everyone—regardless of major, GPA or looks. As long as you wanted to participate, you belonged. There hadn’t been any jockeying for position or blatant résumé-building like in her business clubs. Just a small group of people volunteering their time, having fun and making the world a better place.

  Parker stifled a yawn and started pulling his suitcase toward the hall. “I’ll go surprise Ivy now. See you tomorrow.”

  What about the guy in Ivy’s room? Beth swallowed. “Um, Ivy isn’t there. Last I saw her, she was singing at the Blue Note Bar. If you want, I’ll walk with you over there.”

  He stopped. “That sounds like her. I’m tired, though. Maybe some other time.”

  She bit her bottom lip. Even after all of these years, she felt loyal to Ivy. It was ridiculous. If she was cheating on Parker, then he deserved to know. He deserved to find a woman who appreciated him. A woman like. . . . Beth bit her lip harder. No, she shouldn’t be foolish.

  “Please, Parker. I could actually use your help with something. I haven’t quite figured out what to say at the banquet yet. I remember when you were President of the club, how everyone always made sure they arrived on-time so they wouldn’t miss your opening joke.”

  Clearly flattered, he shrugged and smiled. “It was nothing. Let me put my suitcase in the room and I’ll go with you. We can scribble notes on a cocktail napkin—that’s how I used to do it.”

  She shook her head. “It’s a long walk to the room. I bet you could just check your bag here.” She looked at the young woman behind the desk and got a nod.

  “Well, okay.” He handed his bag to the clerk. “Thanks.”

  They headed outside and she noticed the temperature must’ve dropped about ten degrees. Should I try to call Ivy’s room and warn her? Or is this little delay the extent of my goodwill? Goose bumps popped on her arms and she shivered. Without a word, Parker took off his blazer and draped it around her shoulders. Oh, God. Why does he always have to be so nice?

  He walked beside her down Kirkwood Avenue. “What’s the message of your speech?”

  “I don’t know. It was crazy for me to agree to speak. I don’t really have anything to say.”

  He chuckled and patted her back. A thrill zipped through her body and she felt eighteen years old again. Her throat went dry. All of the old longing returned. If they weren’t both taken, maybe she’d throw herself at him right now. One last Hail Mary. And why not? Somehow for one night, all of those years ago, he’d been hers. They’d never spoken of it. Pretended it never happened. She’d tried to forget it, find contentment with Drew, but suddenly she couldn’t help wondering “What if?” Especially now that Parker stood inches away from her.

  He leaned in to be heard over passing traffic. “I always start with my goal. What do I want people to think or do after they hear my speech?”

  “I don’t know. I want those active in the club now to realize what a great opportunity they have. I want them to take advantage of everything—join committees, run for office, make things happen.”

  He nodded. “That’s great. Now make it personal. Think of anecdotes about your life that illustrate the benefit of getting involved with the club. Did it help you in your job, in other organizations, as a wife and mother?”

  Her spine stiffened. Did he think she was married?

  He laughed. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I looked you up on Facebook. You married a guy at your company and you have a little girl, right?”

  She paused, choking on the memory. “The little girl isn’t my daughter.” It took her a moment to recover her train of thought. “I’m not married, but Drew and I are living together.” Why did she hate to admit that to him? After all, he wasn’t available. He’d been with her friend for forever. He’d made his choice and she’d had to live with the consequences. Again, she paused, fighting to maintain her focus on the here and now. “Emma is Drew’s niece.” She needed to switch topics. “Anyway, Ivy told me Mall Land is doing well.”

  He blushed. “I hate how she brags about money.”

  A six-foot tall, handsome businessman who blushes. He would’ve made a great husband. An even better father. Too bad.

  As they approached, the doorman waved them into the crowded bar. The band still played, but of course, Ivy’s voice no longer vibrated through the room. It was a male vocalist now. Hopefully Parker wouldn’t want to leave because his wife wasn’t there. He leaned toward the bartender and ordered. A moment later he paid and handed Beth a strawberry daiquiri, her favorite.

  She took the pink drink. “You remembered.” How many Weight Watchers’ points were in this? One-hundred
calories in the whipped cream alone. Of course, what did it matter? She’d stuck to her diet this time thinking that she wanted to be thin for her wedding day. But Drew didn’t even care enough to be her date this weekend.

  They headed toward the back of the room in search of a place to sit. A couple stood and left a table. Parker rushed forward and secured it before any other by-standers could take it.

  Inside, the air actually felt hot, so she removed his blazer and put it over the back of her chair. She took a long sip of her sweet drink, hoping the rum would hit her brain fast. Parker’s movie star looks always made her nervous.

  He put a paper napkin on the table and handed her a pen. “Here, you write.”

  She scribbled a few key words—goal, anecdotes, work--on the napkin before taking another sip. She needed something stronger. Something to numb this desire she still felt.

  As if reading her mind, he ordered two Jägermeisters from a passing waitress. “This was where I celebrated my twenty-first birthday. And this was my favorite shot.” He lifted his glass. “You have to try one.” He pushed the other tiny glass toward her.

  She hadn’t gone to a bar on her twenty-first birthday and she’d never had shots. So why not give it a try? One wouldn’t hurt. She lifted it and tossed it back like she’d seen on TV. It burned her throat raw. She coughed with a goose-like honk. A quick sip of her daiquiri muffled it.

  “What a great birthday that was,” Parker said. “Or so my friends told me. My memory was slightly affected.” He smiled and ordered another round.

  This time the amber liquid burned her a little less. How much damage was this doing to her hips?

  After several shots, Beth’s worries floated away. She forgot about her speech. She forgot about her diet and she forgot about her neglectful boyfriend. She was young and in love all over again, and best of all, Parker didn’t once mention Ivy.

  “It’s going to be so great to see the old gang tomorrow,” he said.

  A funny memory came to her and she dared to clasp his hand as if she needed his full attention. “Remember that Halloween party when Bill dressed like Mrs. Doubtfire?”