The High Season(86)

That last year before Mike moved out, he turned into an insomniac. There was one step on the way downstairs—never up, why was that?—that resounded with the crack of a rifle. Deep in dreams, she would hear it and awaken, and Mike would be already gone, downstairs to pace, to stare out a window. She thought he just couldn’t sleep. Instead, he was planning a life without her.

Why hadn’t she ever followed him? Why had she woken, heard the crack of the family breaking, and not fought for them?

Was she missing the crack of the breaking right now?

She crossed the room to touch Jem’s hair. Jem flinched, but maybe that was only out of surprise. Maybe she could reach her, right now. Not ignore the crack, the life gone and the life she could make.

“Everything okay?”

Jem took out an earbud. “What?”

    “I’m just seeing if you want help packing.”

“No, I’m good.”

“Are you…”

“Am I what.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah. Do you have to be here right now?”

Ignore the insult, keep going. “The thing is…”

Exasperated and showy toss of phone onto pillow. “So there’s a thing?”

“You seem upset.”

“I’m not upset, okay? I’m fine.”

She waited.

“I really want to go to the Belfry party.”

“Oh.”

“At first I thought Daddy and Adeline and Lucas were going and I could go with them. But Daddy and Adeline aren’t going.”

“Lucas is going?”

“Yeah. I can’t go by myself. I asked Daddy and he said he wouldn’t take me. They were invited and everything.” Jem flopped back. “It just sucks because I said I was going. I don’t know, it’s even more ammunition for Meret against me. She’ll say I lied. I don’t want to be a liar on top of everything.”

Ruthie’s heart was bursting. Slamming. Something was happening to her and maybe it was a heart attack but she didn’t think so.

“Mom?”

Leverage. Lucas had something on her, but didn’t he have more to lose? Wasn’t she, right now, the most dangerous person? A woman with nothing to lose?

She’d confront him there. Surrounded by his crowd, he wouldn’t want a scene. She’d make him come up with a story. She’d threaten to expose him. He hadn’t officially sold it yet. Until money changed hands, until the check was cashed, he could take it back. Right there, at the party, he could tell Daniel that he’d changed his mind. If he refused she’d threaten to tell Daniel she had examined the painting and had doubts about it. Daniel would take her seriously. She had worked for Peter Clay.

    Could she do that? Threaten and blackmail Lucas?

Why not? She’d done worse.

All she wanted was to wake up tomorrow and feel clean. She’d fix the eggs and toast and be able to look into her daughter’s eyes for the first time this summer. How can you be present in your life if you’re not really looking at the ones you love?

She realized that Jem was waiting.

She swallowed. “I’ll take you.”

“You?”

“Yes. I think I still have some pull over there.”

“You’re sure?”

Ruthie felt something clean wash through her at the hopeful look on Jem’s face. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do,” she said. Ah, a truth! She would take back the lies, one at a time.





55


DOE STOOD ON the back lawn of the Belfry, looking out at the party. It was an incredible success, exactly as Lark had envisioned.

Lark had instructed everyone to dress in an “almost color,” and the lawn was awash in pale floaty dresses and beautiful shirts, blue lanterns hanging from the trees. The inflatables—pool toys and giant animals bobbing from compressed air—dotted the lawn and were tethered with bright ropes. The bouncy castle was ignored except for those who had consumed a few too many signature cocktails. There was vegan food and black cod and sushi, there was prosecco mixed with Aperol, and party favors were pareos from Calypso, tied with ribbons and stacked, ready to be handed out as people left for their cars.

It was nothing like a Belfry event, nothing at all. Ruthie never could have committed this much money to one party. She saw board members, but none of the usual local crowd. The question of whether these new glittery people would ever become a base of support for the museum was not considered. Doe could see Mindy in the crowd, beaming with the excitement of having a New York Times photographer at the Belfry. Gloria was by her side, the only person dressed in glaring white.

    The girl nobody could take their eyes off wore a long dress with embroidered flowers that seemed to only whisper the color apricot. Her hair was loose and golden, her feet in the creamy laced flat sandals that everyone was wearing this summer because Lark had been photographed in them. Doe had been the one to take the shot and post it.

Daniel was there, in off-white pants and a pale-blue shirt, standing with his Hamptons girlfriend, the TV journalist. Doe scanned the crowd and saw Catha at the food table with the scowling husband nobody liked, she couldn’t remember his name, who was filling his plate with the lobster mac and cheese—weird, because she thought he was kosher. Nobody else was eating.