Mother of All Secrets(53)

Before I succumbed to my guilt spiral, Vanessa came out to the front steps as we ascended them. “Yes! You’re here! Welcome! Come on in!” She pressed her cheek quickly to each of ours after we’d climbed to her, and led us into the house. It was sparkling clean, with massively high ceilings and a huge chandelier hanging over the entryway.

“What a shithole, Vanessa!” Kira cracked. “You really expect me to sleep here?” We all laughed.

“I’ll show you the bedrooms,” Vanessa said, walking a step ahead of us. “You can choose your own, of course! My stuff is already in one, but other than that, you can divide and conquer as you see fit.” She showed us down the wide hallway, motioning to bedrooms on either side of her. “This is an upside-down house, with the bedrooms on the ground floor,” she explained. “It’s so you get the view of the ocean from the kitchen and living room upstairs.” One of the bedroom doors was shut. “Not that one,” she said lightly, so I assumed that one was hers.

“Whose house is this, again?” Selena asked incredulously. “It’s unreal.”

“Just someone I work with,” Vanessa said vaguely. “Okay, so come on upstairs once you’re settled! I’ll have a spread ready for us.”

We each politely chose a room without scoping them all out first, not wanting to appear like we were grubbing for the best one. Mine ended up being the smallest, but I didn’t care—it was a night alone in a queen-size bed with no crying baby or snoring husband. I’d have been thrilled with a Motel 6, so long as those terms remained.

There was an ornate mirror above the dresser in my room. I paused to look at my reflection for a second, applying ChapStick and trying to fix my hair a bit. The Montauk humidity had already taken its toll. But other than my frizz, I was pleased with my reflection. I looked different in this mirror. Less tired. A little brighter. Maybe it was just different lighting, or even my imagination. But I thought that the Jenn who looked back at me looked more like me than the reflection I’d seen these last few months.

Selena, Kira, and I all exited our rooms at the same time, laughing as Kira exclaimed, “Oh, heyyy!” as if she were surprised to see us. We walked upstairs together. Vanessa had laid out an array of gooey soft cheeses, sliced sourdough bread, olives, salt and vinegar chips, shishito peppers, hummus, and tzatziki. There were empty wineglasses on the counter, waiting to be filled with the white wine that was chilling in an ice canister beside them.

“It’s still pretty nice out, so I figured we’d snack on the deck,” Vanessa suggested. It was just starting to get dusky outside, but the air was thick with humidity, softening the chill. “Why doesn’t everyone plate up and we’ll head out?”

I put myself in charge of filling the wineglasses, pouring generously in each, sending albari?o tumbling out of the bottle. Kira and Selena took their glasses gratefully. I was feeling slightly nervous, and I wondered if they were, as well; as ideal as this situation was, in many ways, it was all a little overwhelming, too. We really hadn’t known each other that long. Going from hour-long meetings and short wine dates to a sleepover at the beach was an abrupt leap in our friendship.

We all filled our plates modestly. If I’d been alone with this spread, I would have gone to town on it. But I tried to exercise self-control for decorum’s sake.

When I walked out onto the deck, Selena and Kira behind me, I saw that there was someone else already sitting at the table. Her back was to us. Weird that Vanessa invited someone else without telling us, I thought. It seemed worth a heads-up at least, though of course, it was her invitation to give, and she was free to extend it to anyone she wanted.

The woman turned around, smiling shyly. “Hi!”

It took me more than a full second to realize that the woman sitting at the table was Isabel.





Chapter Twenty-Two



Thursday, October 8

Isabel looked markedly different from the timid, tired woman who’d engaged with us in conversations about nap schedules and nighttime pumping. She’d always been undeniably lovely, but there had been too many distractions from it: her obvious exhaustion, the shadows on her face, her jumpiness. Now, her face practically glowed, and she looked relaxed in loose jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, a far cry from her usual tailored jumpsuits and cashmere cardigans.

“Surprised?” she asked, sounding almost sheepish.

Kira was stark white and looked like she was going to be sick. Selena’s expression was entirely unreadable, perhaps employing her courtroom-practiced poker face. But I could see that her hands were shaking. My whole body felt numb.

Vanessa walked out balancing a plate of food and two glasses of wine, clutching the tops of the glasses in her fingertips. “Oh great! You guys found each other. So we can get started.” She placed the plate and one of the glasses in front of Isabel, who patted her hand gratefully. Get started?

“Thanks,” Isabel murmured, taking a graceful sip of wine.

I couldn’t have formed words if my life had depended on it, so I was relieved when Selena was the one to speak up and said exactly what I was thinking, which was simply, “What is going on here?”

To her credit, Isabel held Selena’s gaze unflinchingly. “It’s a long story. I’ll get to it all. But let me first say that I am so happy to see you guys. I really am. I feel so connected to you. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but you were my support system during one of the most challenging times of my life, and I honestly have missed you over this past week. I know this is weird—okay, more than weird—and I’m going to explain everything. But I’m just . . . glad to see you. Truly.” None of us said anything. “And I hope you’re relieved to see me, too. I mean, I’m not dead, so that’s good news, right?” She laughed hopefully.