Dead to Her(13)

“I thought I’d surprise you for lunch.” She ignored Keisha and tried to smile at Jason. “Elizabeth told me where you were.”

“I thought Marcie couldn’t make it?” William said to Jason, who hurriedly got to his feet to pull out her chair. She barely moved as he kissed her on the cheek. Contain yourself, she thought. Don’t show weakness. Not where this gloating pig-in-shit stranger in front of you can see it.

Keisha’s brown eyes, perfectly made up of course, darted sharply between Marcie and Jason. Could she pick up on the tension between them? She looked beautiful. A low V neckline in her cream sleeveless pantsuit accentuated her bust and the red sash tied at the waist made her look slimmer than she probably was and Marcie once again felt her own beauty fade in comparison.

“Thank you, darling.” She took her seat, as did Jason. His white shirt was open at the top button, showing a slice of his tanned, strong chest. A little but not too much. Why didn’t men fade like women? How did they get to retain some allure that wasn’t couched in ghosts of a tighter skin and past glory? How come they got to stay sexy or, in fact, for a while, get sexier? Maybe that was the root of her problem. She felt her space in the group being erased. She’d been the youngest for so long. It was what she had, that quiet envy of their friends, and now it was being stripped from her by this confident younger usurper.

“Sorry, Marce,” he said. “I thought you were at the Mission with Virginia today.”

“I was. But I was done so figured I’d find you for lunch. And here you are.”

“Well, that’s great.” William signaled over a waiter who poured Marcie the dregs of a bottle of Chablis before disappearing to fetch another. They were having a good time it seemed.

“The Mission?” Keisha said. “So you’re a missionary kind of girl?”

So that’s who’d been drinking most of the wine. The barbed innuendo was obviously lost on William, who answered for Marcie. “It’s a food kitchen. Free lunches for the poor. Virginia organizes it with the church. You help out there quite a bit, don’t you, Marcie?”

“Beats going to church. And probably does more good.”

The waiter reappeared and she ordered a small chicken salad as he topped up her glass. Maybe Jason didn’t have an ulterior motive. She did usually do a later shift at the Mission than she’d done today, so it was natural for him to think she was busy. But still, every fiber in her being screamed that Jason hadn’t wanted her here.

“Billy says everyone in this town loves God as much as they love a good time,” Keisha said.

“I’m not from here.” Marcie was being snippy, she couldn’t help herself.

“Bad morning?” Jason asked. She ignored him.

“You’re one of us now, Marcie, and no fighting it,” William said. “You’re family. One of our congregation. And anyway, everyone believes in some version of God. Don’t try to tell me otherwise. Nothing wrong with a little churchgoing. It balances the soul.”

“I guess,” she said.

“But now that you’re here, you can help with my dilemma. Keisha’s trying to persuade me to go back to work.”

“Bored already?” She looked her nemesis in the face for the first time and smiled. They all laughed as if she were joking. Friends together.

“No, of course not.” A flash of dark eyes. The sting had hit home. “But you know what they say, driven men die when they retire.”

“Thanks, honey!”

“I’m being serious. You read about it all the time. Six weeks out of the office and then dead on the golf course. Anyway, I can’t imagine you sitting around doing nothing all day, though I’m sure we could find something to pass the time.” Keisha gave William’s hand a squeeze, but her eyes darted to Marcie’s.

And what will you be doing all day if he goes back to work? Marcie wanted to ask but didn’t. That would put her on dangerous ground. Her one attempt at work had turned into a money pit, and Jason had snapped at her over her spending on the new house last week when the interior design quotes came in.

“I like the idea of being a housewife,” Keisha continued. “Preparing dinner for when you get home. Sweet tea out on the porch. Dinner parties with y’all. That kind of thing.”

“Y’all can cook?” asked Marcie, barely hiding the disbelief in her voice and mimicking Keisha’s attempts to be cute.

“Ha! We’ll make a Southern belle of her yet, won’t we?” William said, slapping Jason on the back and ignoring Marcie’s barb. He sat up a little straighter, all testosterone now with the thought of an adoring little woman waiting at home for him, and Marcie fought the urge to laugh out loud. Oh, she was good, this gold digger. Make it all about him when it was obvious she wanted him out of her hair as much as possible.

“It’s true, I have missed the buzz of work,” William said. “Not at first, but recently.” He sipped his wine, thoughtful. “I could do a couple of days a week.”

“No way you could,” Jason said. “Before you know it, you’d be in every day, stressed as all hell and going home late to a pissed wife and a burned dinner and a credit card she’s maxed out to punish you.”

Marcie stared at him, incredulous. Where had that outburst come from?