Don't Look Back (3 page)

After shaving my legs and emptying the bathwater, I have a final rinse under the shower. I step out and dry off, and I lavishly smother myself in a fresh-scented white tea lotion that matches the
shampoo, conditioner and bath gel I have used, all compliments of the hotel. The scent is refreshing and clean, with a hint of exotic floral, and smells divine. My makeup routine is simple: mascara, eyeliner, bronzer for my face, and lip gloss. My hair is a little higher maintenance, but soon enough, I am staring at my reflection and satisfied with the end result, a staggering improvement from the tired, middle-aged woman I saw earlier on the plane. I feel rather sexy.

The silver-grey silk blouse I picked out to wear hangs well, compliments my figure, and enhances my eyes, making them appear more of a slate blue. The scooped neckline shows a little cleavage and the diamond necklace I am wearing. It’s a princess cut platinum solitaire that Dave surprised me with on our fifteenth anniversary this year, and it matches the diamond earrings I am wearing that he gifted me with on our tenth. The black pencil skirt sits modestly at knee length and is fitted but not overly tight, allowing me to walk and sit comfortably. My small leather clutch purse matches the color of my blouse and is large enough for my lip gloss, breath mints, credit card, and some cash. The only doubts I have are about the two-and-a-half-inch black stilettos. I know they are going to cause me pain, but they complete the outfit.

Sorting through my carry-on bag, I spew the contents onto the desk, searching for the charming, purple gift-wrapped box I have been carrying around like precious cargo. Months ago I found a beautiful dark wood picture frame that had friendship quotes engraved into it. I had a local engraver match the font and engrave mine and
Diana’s names on it. The only problem was that it needed the perfect photograph. I searched and searched though pictures old and new until I found the precise one. It is a photograph of me and Diana taken in the summer of 1986. I was home for two weeks of vacation, my first time back since leaving a year and a half earlier. I remember the weekend clearly. Diana and I had arranged to spend most of the weekend together, and we were getting ready to go out that night when Jenny took the photo. We are so young, just shy of sixteen, and the intensity in our eyes and the happiness of that moment are evident. Our arms are wrapped around each other as we sit on Diana’s bed, smiles beaming across our makeup-painted faces.

When I stumbled across it, I was instantly taken back to that moment. I was so excited to be home again, to see Diana, and we had so much fun that night at the club. Then, of course, there was Matthew. My heart warms for a moment with the thought of him, another relapse, then quickly hardens back up, encasing itself in a protective shell. I force my well-trained mind to return to the happier thought of Diana. I hope she likes the gift.

I try to divert my nervous energy and focus on my breathing—a technique learned in yoga class—in an effort to calm myself.
In through the nose, out through the mouth
, I repeat over and over to myself. Tucking my purse under my arm, I grab Di’s birthday gift and close the door quietly, stepping out into the hallway.

“Here goes!” I mutter, checking around to make sure no one is listening.

A few minutes later, I am walking outside, heels
clicking on the concrete pathway, the scent of roses and honeysuckle filling the air as I stroll along the quaint walkway in between the hotel and the restaurant next door. The air is cool and refreshing, the evening sky still fairly bright, although a warm, golden glow is starting to span the scattered clouds as the sun begins its descent. There are quite a few cars in the parking lot, and I can hear music drifting from The Swan, but it doesn’t sound too loud yet, so I am not sure if anyone has arrived for Diana’s party.

It probably would have been a good idea to keep watch from my room, as now it appears I will be walking into a room of strangers. Thank goodness it isn’t a surprise party; Diana is aware that Terry has arranged a light buffet and reserved a small section of the restaurant for family and friends to celebrate her birthday. At least I’m in the clear to walk right in. Gathering up my courage, I approach the entry, and taking one last deep breath, I push against the heavy doors.

The Swan is quaint and charming but with a modern twist. The exterior matches the hotel, since they were both built around the same time. Upon entering through the black wooden doors, the pub area is directly to my right. Gorgeous limestone tiles in various shades of cream welcome me toward the grand bar that runs the length of the room. Stacked stones in matching tones cover the front of the bar, with multiple beer taps scattered atop and about a dozen dark brown leather bar stools inviting me to take a seat and select a drink from the many choices on display. The restaurant, to the left, features a large exposed brick fireplace as the focal point along
the far wall, and I can imagine how welcoming it must feel on a chilly winter evening.

Tonight, a section of the dining room floor has been cleared to accommodate dancing and a buffet, but plenty of tables with cream colored linens remain, offering seating for a least a hundred guests. Based on the empty bar, I am guessing Terry must have rented the entire venue for the night. He has gone above and beyond, as there is a DJ setting up with disco lights, and purple balloon arches decorate the cake table, the buffet spread, and all four corners of the dance floor. A table is set up in the corner by the fireplace with a stunning two-tiered chocolate cake decorated with fresh summer flowers in shades of purple and lilac (Diana’s favorite colors), surrounded by matching cupcakes.

So far, about thirty guests have arrived, seated at various tables throughout the restaurant. As I make my final evaluation of the room, feeling out of place and self-conscious, Jenny spots me, and I hear her yelling my name over the music.

“Katie! You made it!” she exclaims. She leans in and gives me two exaggerated air kisses on each cheek.
Kiss, kiss. Kiss, kiss
. “I’ve been messaging you all day, darling.” She smacks my hand as if I’m a misbehaving child. “You’ve had me worried sick.”

Surprisingly, tonight I find myself the same height as Jenny, as she is wearing adorable flat gold sandals, her toes painted in a French manicure, her legs tanned darker than mine. She must have recently been on holiday somewhere warm. She looks lovely in a white, strapless summer dress, which is mid-thigh length and gathered at the waist, enhancing her amazing “I’ve never had kids” figure.
Her long, dark hair is pulled back in a tight ponytail, showing off enormous gold hoop earrings. Her brown eyes remind me of her sister.

“Oh, Jenny, it’s good to see you again. And I am sorry. I haven’t checked my messages. I was so tired when I got in … please forgive me,
darling
,” I mimic. She gives me a twisted smile.

“Come on, let’s get a drink quickly.” Jenny grabs my arm, pulling me in the direction of the bar. “Di will be here any minute.”

A few more guest come through—none of whom I recognize—while I sit waiting for Diana to arrive. Jenny, who abandoned me shortly after I arrived, is off being a socialite, and I have found a small table away from the dance floor. There is a group of ladies to my far left, Diana’s girlfriends I assume, and another large party that appears to be Diana’s relatives is seated over by the buffet table. The dance floor is empty, although I doubt it will be for long.

The doors open once again, and this time I spot Joe, Terry’s older brother, walking in with his mom. She’s holding hands with Annie, Terry and Diana’s ten-year-old daughter. Their faces are bright and cheery, and following behind them I see Terry and Diana. I can tell that Diana is surprised the moment she walks in, her eyes widening in shock as she spots the balloons, DJ and cake table. I enjoy watching her take it all in, and she turns to Terry and gives him a big hug and kiss. Their affection for each other is genuine, and it makes me smile because I know it takes a lot of hard work. They have been together since they were kids, but the closeness, the intimacy they share, is authentic.

Di is dressed in a lovely black and white dress; the design, with white at the outside edges, makes her appear especially slender. It is form-fitting, with capped sleeves and a round neck. Of course she is sporting her classic black three-inch heels, a coordinating jacket hanging over her arm next to a striking red leather purse. Her hair is rich, dark brown, trimmed short in her signature pixie cut, and she looks radiant.

Terry matches her perfectly in simple black dress pants and a white silk island-style shirt, untucked with short sleeves. He has gained a few pounds since I last saw him, and he sports a bronze spray tan, but he is still extremely handsome with his green eyes and thick head of blondish brown hair that’s fashionably spiked up. He stands about six inches taller than Di tonight with her heels and his hair. Together they make a stunning couple.

The ladies next to me notice that Diana has arrived, and they jump up in unison, yelling “Happy birthday!” very loudly and stampeding toward her. I hang back, momentarily enjoying the scene as a spectator, watching as she hugs each one of her girlfriends. I try to pick out who is who based on our emails, trying to pair these ladies to the descriptions Diana has given me.

First, I know that one of them, she doesn’t particularly like at all. Another is a drunk who flirts outrageously with Terry, and another is having an affair with her kids’ swimming instructor. Then there is Gemma, whom Di absolutely adores, and who, next to me, is one of her closest friends. The crowd is starting to liven up with renewed energy at the birthday girl’s arrival, and as Diana’s parents,
Tom and Sue McFarren, arrive next, the family group from over near the buffet table joins in the meet and greet in the entryway.

I spot Terry and Joe heading toward the bar. Since my presence has gone undetected with all the excitement and commotion, I slip away from my table and walk toward them on the outskirts of the room, in the shadows. I have the element of surprise on my side as I approach the bar; the two men are immersed in conversation with their backs toward me. In a split second, I wedge myself between them, taking the Hearst brothers by surprise.

“Hey, guys!”

They turn their heads in my direction in disbelief.

“Katie?” Terry and Joe speak simultaneously, their matching green eyes wide in astonishment.

Joe snaps out of his shock first, stepping back and opening his arms to hug me. Joe is about six foot four inches tall, towering over his younger brother, and has always been a handsome man and a terrible flirt. In his mid-forties, he is still slim, with a full head of sandy blond hair, and tonight he looks dashing in grey pants with a cream button-down shirt tucked in and open at the collar. Why do men get more debonair with time while women just age? Joe leans in to kiss me on the cheek. His cologne smells good, and I am reminded how much I miss that. Dave seldom wears cologne, and it’s a shame because there is something very powerful and sensual about an incredible-smelling man.

“It’s good to see you, Katie.” He smiles, his eyes roaming over my curves shamelessly. Typical flirtatious Joe. He looks over at his brother with a hint of excitement in his voice and a twinkle in his
eye. “Terry, I had no idea Katie was coming. You didn’t say anything. What a huge surprise this is going to be.” Joe grins at his brother. There seems to be sarcasm in his voice, but before I can think too much about it, Terry is hugging me, his welcome warm and genuine.

“Wow, this is a surprise, Katie! I had no idea you were coming,” he stammers, and he kisses me on the cheek in greeting. “How did you know? I mean, who told you? I mean …” Terry’s a little flustered, and now I’m convinced he thinks he has offended me with his questions.

“Jenny told me. Relax,” I say, patting Terry’s arm. “It was Jenny who invited me. Diana doesn’t have any idea I’m here, it’s a total surprise. She hasn’t even seen me yet.” I hope Terry will loosen up a little.

Poor Terry. He does appear a bit stressed, and I start to wonder if he thinks Diana invited me. That would indicate she knew about the party all along, that she knew it wasn’t the small, intimate dinner he’d told her he was planning. Maybe he feels he has failed in his efforts to surprise her, but I already know she was surprised when she saw this wasn’t the small affair she was expecting. Either way, I don’t think he has anything to worry about. I know she has no idea I am here.

“Well, let’s go surprise her, shall we?” Terry says, grabbing his beer off the bar. I follow, using his body as a shield, bending down slightly so Diana won’t see me coming. Joe stays back at the bar, choosing to enjoy his drink and the reunion from a distance, a big cheeky grin on his face.

I peek over Terry’s shoulder as we cross the
empty dance floor, a little apprehensive about making a scene. I hope Terry does this casually and doesn’t embarrass me. Diana has her back to us, engaged in conversation with someone, when suddenly Annie spots me hiding behind her dad and comes rushing across the dance floor, arms outstretched, her mouth open wide, screeching my name in a high octave.

“Aunty Kaaaaaaatttttttiiiiiieeeeee!” I hear as I am knocked sideways by the sweetest little ten-year-old, brown haired, freckled English girl I have ever seen. She is a duplicate of her mother at that age. My surprise is blown, and Terry steps aside in defeat as I look at Diana. She is standing about ten feet away, wide-eyed, mouth open, paused in mid-sentence, staring at me and Annie. Annie’s arms encircle my waist, her face pushing up against my ribs. She is jumping up and down, hugging me tight.

With the entire room watching, I casually wave at my best friend and mouth “Surprise!” to her from across the dance floor. Diana walks over and joins Annie, throwing her arms around me, too.

“Katie, oh my God, what on earth are you doing here?” She looks at me with tears in her big brown eyes. “What an amazing birthday present! I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t believe I’m here, either, but when Jenny told me, I couldn’t miss it, Di, not your fortieth.” My eyes gloss over with tears. “Happy birthday, Di, I love you.”