Lost Along the Way(22)
“I don’t disagree with you. I met my beautiful wife in college in Maine. I knew enough to snatch her up before anyone else got to her. Best decision I ever made,” Reed said as he wrapped his arm around her waist. It drove Cara crazy that he always referred to her in the possessive, and never introduced her to anyone by her name. It was a subtle way of asserting his ownership of her. Reed knew she hated it, and continued to do it anyway.
Cara never forgot that conversation. It was the perfect example of why Reed was so obsessed with making sure that Cara kept up appearances. He wanted to be viewed as a certain type of man, and that man had to be married to a certain type of woman, and showing up without her at the birthday party was the fastest way to remove himself from Neal’s good graces. Not an option. He was planning on applying to the Palm Beach golf club next year, and he would need Neal’s recommendation to ensure his acceptance.
“I’m sorry, of course we’ll be there,” Cara said. She heard the word we come out of her mouth and once again felt as if she were drowning. There hadn’t been a true we for a very long time.
She stopped listening as Cody began to drone on about the gift he and Tabitha had gotten for Neal. He mentioned something about a new putter or maybe private golf lessons, about some exotic bottle of scotch he’d had imported from some distillery overseas, about the new blazer he’d purchased from Barneys in the city just for this specific occasion, and about how he was debating getting a new pair of Woottons because the thread on the initial C had begun to fray. Cara nodded politely as Cody, Reed, and Tabitha continued their pointless banter, hearing the rest of their conversation as clearly as Charlie Brown would hear his teacher.
“We’ll pick you guys up at seven. Be ready! We don’t want to miss the cocktail reception. I hate when people arrive late for parties. Punctuality is a gentleman’s calling card. Don’t you think?” Cody asked.
“Cody, sometimes it’s perfectly acceptable to be fashionably late. After all, it takes time for us ladies to get ready for a big event. Isn’t that right, Cara?” Tabitha teased.
Her last statement cleared Cara’s ears quickly. “Of course! It takes some of us longer than others,” she joked.
“Oh, please. You always look fabulous! It will be fun. I think a night out will be good for you; don’t you think so, Reed?”
Cara didn’t know anyone whose mourning period had been shortened by a birthday party. Instead of finding Tabitha’s suggestion friendly, she found it insensitive and irritating. Tabitha should be giving her an out, saying that it was perfectly acceptable if she wasn’t up to attending the party, not encouraging her to put on a happy face for the fiftieth birthday of a man she hardly knew. Tabitha was one of those women who thought that every problem in life could be solved with a pretty dress or a new shade of lipstick.
“I do. I think a night out among friends is exactly what she needs,” Reed answered.
“Great!” Cody said. “We have a car service grabbing the four of us. No sense pretending we all aren’t going to get more than a little inebriated at the party.”
“Good thinking,” Tabitha added, already on her way to being more than a little drunk tonight as well.
“Last time I drove home after having a few, I dinged the mailbox pulling into the driveway. Tabitha let me have it for a week. Lesson learned on that one.”
“Don’t even get me started!” Tabitha laughed.
“So seven o’clock?” Reed offered, placing his hand on top of Cara’s and giving it a squeeze. Cody and Tabitha would think he was being affectionate. She knew that he was encouraging her to slap a smile on her face and work on her performance of loving wife. Cara noticed that Reed’s ears were starting to turn red and felt her insides tense. Red ears the color of clown paint were Reed’s tell, one of the reasons that he’d never been a good poker player. He had gotten very good at being steady and calm in any situation over the years, but his ears always betrayed him.
“Perfect.” She flashed a smile. Reed finished off the rest of his scotch, ordered another, and watched as Cara continued to dance, slipping back into her role of perfect wife.
The car ride home would be another story.
nine
Jane woke at nine in the morning to the sound of a chainsaw operating on a tree branch somewhere in the near vicinity, and remembered immediately why she’d opted to live in the city. She had to admit that she had slept soundly, though, more soundly than she had in a long time. Her conscience hadn’t let her feel at ease in her home once she’d discovered that almost everything she owned was bought with stolen money. Maybe being evicted wouldn’t be the worst thing. It was time for her to start over, and it might be better if her new life didn’t involve that apartment. Problem was, she had no money and no job, and that would make finding anything to rent, even a flea-infested rat hole in the East Village, impossible. Maybe she could have her breast implants removed and sell them on eBay. There were all sorts of sick freaks out there who would probably pay good money for them.
She trudged into the attached guest bathroom, took a quick shower and dried off with an impossibly soft white towel before getting dressed in a pair of jeans so worn they felt like suede and a light green sweater. She made the bed, hung her wet towel on the hook on the back of the bathroom door, and repacked her short cotton nightgown in an effort to eradicate her footprint from the room entirely. She walked barefoot down the hallway and slowly descended the stairs to the foyer. Halfway down, she froze, overhearing the heated conversation taking place in the kitchen. More specifically, she heard Reed’s voice—that condescending, controlling *—the sound of it still eliciting the same quiet, visceral rage it always had. What Cara ever saw in him, Jane swore she’d never understand.