Lovely Girls(20)

I’m not sure why I did it. Why I took a video of them having sex. It wasn’t because I had some perverted interest in preserving the moment. I guess I thought there might come a day that I’d want proof that it happened.

Alex stared up at the camera, her eyes wide and unblinking. Then, she abruptly turned off the recording.





CHAPTER ELEVEN




* * *





KATE

“You weren’t kidding about the glitter,” I said.

“You thought we were joking?” Emma laughed. “Genevieve, did you buy out the craft store?”

“Pretty much.” Genevieve tossed her blonde hair back over her shoulders. “I ran into one of the cheer moms there and saw her heading toward the glitter aisle. I beelined my cart in that direction and beat her there.”

“Competitive glitter buying. Very mature,” Ingrid commented.

“Maybe not, but we’ll have the best signs,” Genevieve said lightly. “That’s all that matters.”

We were in Emma’s brightly painted kitchen, poster boards spread out over her long wood kitchen table along with assorted colored markers, colored printouts of the Shoreham High School logo, and many, many jars of glitter. Emma had lit a candle that smelled like apple cider, and we all had glasses of wine. The occasion felt festive, even though the four of us had only gathered to work on the homecoming signs that would be hung in the hallways of the school. I had no idea why we, the adults, were tasked with this chore instead of the students who would actually be attending the homecoming game and dance. But I didn’t really mind. It was a nice change to have company in the evening. Alex disappeared into her room after tennis team practice every day, emerging only to eat dinner in near silence.

I was cutting out the logos—the snarling head of a panther—that we were going to glue onto the signs, while Emma and Ingrid were carefully spelling out PANTHER HOMECOMING in block letters. Genevieve watched us, a glass of white wine in hand.

“Are you going to actually do anything?” Ingrid asked, glancing up from her poster board.

Ingrid was wearing a loose cream linen tunic over matching pants. It was the sort of outfit that would make me look frumpy, but on Ingrid, it was effortlessly chic.

“I’m the glitter girl.” Genevieve took a sip of her wine. “I’m waiting for you slackers to finally finish a sign so I can work my magic on it.”

“We’re working as fast as we can,” Emma said. “Do you want the letters to be crooked?”

“No, I want them perfect,” Genevieve said. “Everything has to be perfect.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes at Emma, who smiled wanly. Ingrid frowned. “Are you okay, Em? You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.”

Emma bobbed her head from side to side. “I’m fine.”

“That’s what you always say when you’re not fine,” Ingrid said.

“I’m just feeling a little down today. It’s probably hormonal,” Emma said.

“Where’s Mark?” Genevieve sat down at the table and crossed one tanned leg over the other.

Emma shrugged. “Working late, supposedly. Who knows what he’s really doing?”

Ingrid set down her purple marker and looked intently over the table at Emma. “What’s going on? And before you accuse me, I’m asking as a friend, not as a therapist.”

Emma’s face suddenly crumpled, and she covered it with both hands.

“Oh, honey, what’s wrong?” Genevieve stood and hurried over to put an arm around Emma’s shaking shoulders.

“I’m not sure what’s going on. Mark’s just been so different lately. Maybe it’s nothing, but I keep wondering if maybe it’s something,” Emma said. “For one thing, he keeps staying late at the office.”

“Has work been busier than usual for him?” Ingrid asked.

“Maybe. That’s what he says.” Emma looked up, and I saw that her face was streaked with tears. “But he also made this weird comment the other day about marriage.”

“What about it?” Genevieve asked.

“He said something like, maybe people aren’t meant to be married forever. That maybe it’s an unrealistic expectation.”

“Where did that come from?” Ingrid asked.

“I don’t know. It’s not like we’ve ever talked about separating or anything like that. But then when I told him I was thinking we should take the girls to Europe next summer, he said it was too far away to plan.”

“Well, it is only August.” Genevieve squeezed Emma’s shoulder and then went to pour her another glass of wine.

“I shouldn’t,” Emma protested. “I’m on a diet.”

“It’s medicinal,” Genevieve said. Emma took the glass, and Genevieve sat down next to her.

“We always plan our vacations in advance,” Emma explained. “I had the trip we took to the dude ranch in Wyoming this summer booked by this time last year.”

“Is it possible he’s concerned about finances and doesn’t want to tell you?” Ingrid asked. “That could be a reason why he isn’t comfortable planning a vacation right now.”

“I don’t think that’s it.” Emma shook her head. “He got a big bonus not too long ago.”