Lost Along the Way(18)
Cara and Reed were sleeping in separate bedrooms.
It hadn’t occurred to Jane when she decided to parachute into Cara’s life that things might be anything other than perfect. Now she felt like she had stumbled into something Cara didn’t want her to be a part of, and she understood, a little bit at least, why Cara was so angry when she showed up unannounced. I was right! Jane thought. I was right, I was right, I was right! She realized that she shouldn’t feel vindicated by discovering that her friend’s marriage wasn’t perfect, but she couldn’t help it. Oh man, it felt good to know that her instincts weren’t completely wrong. She may have drastically misjudged her own husband, but she had Reed right all along.
Jane pretended she hadn’t noticed anything. “Thank you so much for this,” she said as she gazed out the window at the backyard. There was a large oak tree in the corner of the property, and for a second, Jane inadvertently smiled. A long time ago, in a life now far, far away, Jane used to climb trees like that in her own backyard. She’d swing from the lower branches and scrape her legs on the bark as she shinnied up the trunk, trying to climb higher than the squirrels running along the limbs with abandon. She’d loved the view—the tops of the houses across the street, the giant hill that led down to the brook running behind the train tracks. It had been a very long time since she’d thought about that.
“It’s not a problem. Maybe a good night’s sleep will help you find a way out of this mess,” Cara said.
“I doubt it, but it will probably help the bags under my eyes. That’ll have to be enough for now.”
“Come downstairs, I’ll make us some tea.”
Jane was hoping for something slightly stronger than tea, but she had a feeling the only other options would be decaf coffee or orange juice. She felt around in her bag for her bottle of Xanax, relieved that she never left home without it.
Downstairs, Jane sat at the kitchen table and watched as Cara filled the kettle with water. From the cabinet above the microwave, Cara removed a box of Entenmann’s crumb cake and cut two fat squares from the slab before carefully closing the box and returning it to the shelf. She placed the cake on white china plates and dropped two herbal tea bags into matching mugs. When the water boiled, she filled the mugs and brought the snack over to the table. It was as if she were doing ballet, a choreographed routine she performed all the time, silently, efficiently, dutifully. When she finally sat down next to Jane and stopped fidgeting with her pearls, Jane decided it was time to at least try to bridge the canyon-sized gap between them.
“I’m so sorry about your mom, Cara. She was a really great lady. And she made some mean chocolate chip cookies. How are you holding up?”
Tears welled in Cara’s eyes. “You heard?” she whispered.
“My mom told me. She called me as soon as she heard.”
“And you didn’t come to the funeral? I assumed when you didn’t show, it was because you hadn’t heard. My mother always loved you, Jane. You and Meg both.” Hearing the pain in Cara’s voice hurt her, but before she could speak, Cara continued. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m surprised. You were one of my bridesmaids, but you showed up late to my engagement party and then left my wedding early to go hang out in a bar somewhere. I shouldn’t expect anything else. At some point, allowing you to continuously disappoint me is my own fault.”
Jane felt her anger grow at the mention of her leaving the wedding early. It wasn’t that she hadn’t wanted to celebrate Cara’s marriage; it was that she couldn’t celebrate Cara’s marriage to him. By the time Cara and Reed got engaged, Jane had no doubt whatsoever that Reed wasn’t the nice guy he pretended to be. The more carefully she’d watched him, the more sure she’d been that he was really a huge *. She’d tried to keep her feelings to herself, but it had become harder and harder to keep her mouth shut, and by the time the engagement party rolled around she’d felt like she was going to explode. Jane saw the way he treated Cara. He ordered for her at restaurants, answered questions directed to her in conversations, started to buy her expensive clothes so he could control what she wore. Reed didn’t want a wife. He wanted a German shepherd that would obey his commands, and it was so obvious to Jane that she couldn’t understand how Cara didn’t see it, too. After their fight at the engagement party it had seemed totally ridiculous for her to stay and watch them dance and celebrate at the wedding with a huge fake smile plastered on her face. So she’d left. She told herself it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, but her early exit had probably severed the last real thread holding their friendship together. It was something she regretted. Maybe she should have just sucked it up, tucked her venom for Reed away in her clutch, and pretended to be thrilled for her friend. But she couldn’t. Jane had never been good at keeping her true feelings hidden. She was well aware that she had made more than her fair share of mistakes, but she wasn’t going to let Cara criticize her for things she hadn’t done. “I did show,” she said softly.
“What?” Cara asked. “What do you mean you did show? To the funeral? No you didn’t.”
“Yes I did. I stood in the back and left before the recessional because I didn’t know if you’d want me there, and I was worried that my showing up might somehow upset you even more than you already were. Maybe I should have stayed. I swear, I thought I was doing the right thing. If I’d known that you’d wanted me there, I would’ve stayed to talk to you. You gave a beautiful eulogy.”