In the Shadow of Lakecrest(38)

“Don’t forget,” Hannah told me. “I want you to receive the very best care.”

After all, I was carrying the next Lemont.

At supper, I was seated next to Luanne Handleman, the ancient president of the East Ridge Ladies’ Club. Luanne, who was nearly deaf, kept asking me to repeat what I said, leaving me little time to get to know Billy, who was seated on my other side. Occasionally I’d hear Marjorie’s laugh float above the general monotone of conversation, giving the night a charge, a sense that anything might happen.

Hannah liked to run her parties the traditional English way, with the ladies and gents separating after the meal. As the maids cleared the dessert plates, Hannah rose from the table, but instead of escorting the women out, she walked over to Matthew and put her hand on his shoulder.

Matthew stood up. “I’m afraid I must excuse myself,” he announced. “I have some pressing business to attend to. Harry, Jerome—come with me to the office, and the other fellows can have their cigars in the billiards room. Ladies, if you’ll excuse us?”

Business? On a weekend? Even more surprisingly, Hannah followed Matthew, leaving the hostess duties to Marjorie and me. Eva Monroe asked to use the phone to check on her children, and I escorted the rest of the women to the sitting room, wishing I could trudge upstairs to bed instead.

Most of the ladies gathered at card tables to play bridge, while Luanne and another old biddy settled into armchairs across the room and looked half-asleep. Marjorie stood by the fireplace, smoking and flicking the ashes over the grate. Blanche was nowhere to be seen; most likely, she’d snuck off with Billy. I couldn’t blame her.

I watched a few hands of cards, trying to look interested. If only I could pick up a book instead.

Eva came in, her lips pinched tight.

“I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid we’ll have to be going,” she said. “My littlest has so much trouble settling down if I’m not there, and it’s possible she has a touch of fever.”

“Of course, I understand,” I said. “I’ll pass on your regrets to Matthew and his mother.”

She smiled gratefully and hurried off. I sank down onto a sofa, and Marjorie tossed the end of her cigarette into the fire and came over to join me. She crossed one slim leg over the other and slid a finger in her hair, pulling a straight blonde chunk back and forth against her jawline.

“That’s what you have to look forward to,” she said.

“What?”

Marjorie smirked and eyed my stomach. “Mothering. Worrying about Junior having a touch of fever.”

I glanced around, but no one seemed to be paying attention.

“I do find it strange,” Marjorie said. “I’d have thought you’d be happier about the baby.”

“Maybe I’m still getting used to the idea.”

“Well, it’s gotten you in Mum’s good graces. Isn’t that what you wanted? Even Matthew seems pleased, though I can’t imagine why. I never thought he was much for children.”

“Who’s not much for children?” Matthew had walked into the room so quietly that I didn’t hear him until he was perched on the arm of the sofa.

“You, dear brother,” said Marjorie.

“Oh, they’re not so bad,” he said with a smile. “Maybe it’s time we had some little ones around to cheer us up.”

“Oh yes. I’ll be so much cheerier with a screaming baby in the house.”

“You’ll change your mind one day,” Matthew said. “When you have children of your own.”

“What if I don’t?” Marjorie’s glare was icy. “What if I have no intention of popping out grandchildren for Mum?”

The card players glanced over at the sound of her rising voice.

Quietly, but with an edge to his voice, Matthew said, “If you’re in a bad mood, that’s no reason to take it out on me and Kate.”

“Oh, goodness no, not Kate. Your perfect little wife.”

If only you knew, I wanted to hiss, but I kept silent. There was an undercurrent of danger in Marjorie’s expression, and I sensed another, wordless conversation taking place between her and Matthew. An exchange of looks that made me worried.

“Margie,” Matthew pleaded. “Please.”

“Good God, Matthew, when did you get so old? You’re as bad as Mum. I can only imagine how dreary you’ll be once you’re a father.”

She stood up. “I’m going to find that divine Billy. He’s the only person here worth talking to.”

A wave of lethargy tugged at me, and I slumped against Matthew.

“I’m sorry, darling,” he said. “She loves creating a scene. It’s got nothing to do with you.”

Of course it did. Marjorie had been acting like a jilted lover ever since I told her about the baby. But I’d gain nothing by pointing that out, or by mentioning that I’d seen something glittery and unfocused in her eyes.

“Would it be all right if I went to bed?” I asked. “I’m so tired.”

“I’ll walk you up.”

Matthew, sweetly protective, pressed his palm against my back as we went up the stairs. Once in our room, he turned on the bedside light as I pulled off my dress and tossed it on a chair. I’d gotten spoiled enough that I didn’t think twice about leaving my clothes for the maids to wash and put away.