Her Perfect Man (19 page)

Kim nodded back and turned away.

“Who’s that?”

“My sister’s husband.” A sour taste filled her mouth.

“You don’t like him.”

“Not really.” Randall Gilmartin had a way of looking at women the way a starving dog eyed raw steak. And like that starving dog, he never lost an opportunity to steal a bite. Kim would never forget the Christmas he tried to take a bite of her. Another reason she hated family get-togethers.

“This is going to be awful,” she apologized. “I’m really sorry I dragged you here. It’s all right if you don’t want to stay.”

Charlie gave her a puzzled look, as if surprised she would propose such a thing. “Of course I’m staying.”

Because he gave his word. Kim felt guilty as hell. He was trapped here because of a promise he made her.

He peered at her in concern. “Kim. Are you all right?”

She gave him a big fake smile. “Fine. Just fine.”

Forty minutes later Kim’s face felt stiff from smiling, her fingers cramped from clutching her empty wineglass. She’d used up all her chit chat and wished she could just go home. But she was stuck.

Even though neither of her parents had yet made an appearance, they’d be sure to know she left and would never let her hear the end of it.

But what difference did it make? She’d done nothing but disappoint them since she was fifteen.

And every time she was with them she became that powerless, frightened fifteen-year-old all over again.

Charlie was doing better than she was. When a few guests learned he was a teacher, he got dragged into a discussion about public education with some loudmouth who thought teachers
had it easy
. He had no trouble holding his own with her parents’ snobby friends. Kim, on the other hand, was ready to scream. She had to get somewhere private, somewhere she could breathe.

She left the patio and crept to the far side of the house where the gleam of fairy lights did not reach.

The darkness here would protect her from speculative looks and nosy questions. But someone else had had the same idea.

Kim went still as murmured voices reached her ears. There was soft rustling, quiet laughter.

Whispers so hushed that she could not make out what was said, though there was no mistaking the suggestive tone. Through the shadows, she saw a couple half hidden in a corner, their heads close. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Kim recognized the pale blonde she’d seen earlier, and she recognized the man with her. Cheryl’s husband Randall.

Kim backed away so quickly she almost stumbled and prayed they didn’t notice. Her heart pounded and her face burned as she tried to collect her thoughts. In a daze, she returned to the patio and stepped into the house.

She passed other guests, their faces mere blurs, as she moved down the hall toward the back of the house. She stopped at a bathroom door. The house had five bathrooms, and Kim had huddled in every one of them back in the day, trying to escape her parents’ wrath. And here she was, again looking for a safe place to hide.

She opened the door to find Cheryl sitting on the wide edge of the tub.

“Oh, sorry!” Kim made to leave, but her sister waved her in.

“You’re not interrupting anything,” Cheryl told her. “I’m hiding out.”

Kim’s lip curled. “Looks like we had the same idea.” She closed the door and slid onto the closed toilet seat.

“Quite the party, isn’t it?” Cheryl remarked.

“With both guests of honor yet to appear. I’m assuming everyone’s still waiting for Dad to show?”

“Yeah.” The image of the two shadowy figures flashed in Kim’s mind. Her skin crawled and she felt tainted by her brother-in-law’s duplicity. The thought of protecting him by keeping silent made her want to throw up. But how could she tell Cheryl what she’d seen?

Her sister appeared blasé, but Kim noticed the tightness of her mouth. “I’m sure he’ll pop in before the night’s over, with a string of apologies for working late and a very expensive gift. Something expensive enough to allow Angela to save face.”

“You think that’s what he’s really doing?

Working late?” Kim asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Both sisters knew that
working late
was code for some of their father’s extramarital activities. When they were younger, they often heard the screaming matches concerning their father’s other women. Of course, it was only their mother screaming, after she’d had a few too many vodkas. Their father would respond in low censorious tones, accusing his wife of being paranoid and mentally ill.

As the years went on, the screaming stopped, though the drinking didn’t. Their mother had either decided to live with their father’s infidelity or had stopped caring.

Kim shook her head in disgust. “He’s such an ass.” Cheryl reached into a small spangled purse to extract a cigarette and lighter.

Kim blinked in surprise. “I didn’t know you smoked.” Somehow it didn’t fit in with the image of her ideal older sister. But then again, neither did having a scumbag husband.

“Just every once in a while.” Cheryl lit the cig then slipped the lighter back into her purse. “I’d offer you one, but it’s the last in the pack. Want a drag?”

“I quit years ago.” She’d smoked in high school when she thought it made her look cool but decided to quit when she got tired of shelling out so much money and constantly smelling like stale smoke.

“Yeah? You were smart.”

Kim gave her a smirk. “One of the few times in my life I was actually successful at something.”

“Hmm. I only do it when I’m on edge. Like now.”

Sweat popped out on Kim’s upper lip. Why would she be on edge? Had she seen her husband out on the patio?

“Being in this house does it to me,” Cheryl explained. “Always has.” She grimaced, holding her palm under her cigarette as the ash lengthened.

“Well, you know what I mean. You grew up here, too.” She stood, and leaning against the marble countertop, flicked the ash into the sink.

Kim’s eyes flew wide in astonishment. Cheryl was uncomfortable here? Why? Wasn’t she the golden girl?

Cheryl exhaled a stream of smoke. “Mom’s had another procedure, you know.”

“Another one? What was it this time?”

“An eyelift. She won’t cop to it, though. She wants everyone to think she looks
refreshed
.” They both snickered.

“She’s actually after me to have something done,” Cheryl said.

“What? That’s crazy.” Kim burst out. “You’re not even thirty.”

“Well, it’s not too soon according to mother.

‘Don’t wait too long, dear. You don’t want to make the same mistake I did.’“

“You’re not going to, though. Are you?” Kim asked in alarm.

Cheryl eyed herself in the mirror. “I suppose not.” “Seriously, you don’t need it. You look great.”

Cheryl sighed. “Poor Angela. Maybe she thinks if she started sooner, her husband would pay more attention to her.” She gave Kim a significant look.

“Instead of
working
all the time.”

Her sister’s next remark caught Kim off guard.

“So who’s this teacher you brought to the party? A boyfriend?”

“Charlie’s just a friend,” Kim said quickly. “A neighbor.”

“Ahh.” Cheryl fanned away a cloud of smoke.

“Too bad. He’s cute. Nice dress, by the way.”

Kim was so used to having her guard up with Cheryl that she couldn’t take the remark at face value. “What’s that mean?”

Cheryl’s mouth twisted. “Take it easy. It was a compliment. It means I like your dress.”

“Oh.” Kim’s face burned with embarrassment.

“Sorry.”

Cheryl sank back down on the rim of the tub.

“You think I’m a bitch.”

“No…”

“Yes, you do. Hell, I don’t blame you. You must hate me.”

“I don’t
hate
you.” Her feelings about Cheryl had always been a complicated mix, but hate was never a part of it. “I’m jealous.” Not a very flattering thing to cop to, but there it was. “You’re the perfect daughter.

I’m the screw-up. They’ve always loved you best.”

“They
loved
me?” Cheryl barked a harsh laugh completely at odds with the serene picture of femininity she presented. “Come on, Kim. Neither one of our parents knows how to love anybody.”

Kim felt as though a trap door had opened under her. “What?”

“Do you seriously think it was
love
that had them constantly pushing me? Nothing ever satisfied them. Or should I say nothing ever satisfied
her
. The grades, the clubs, the activities, they were never good enough. There always had to be
more
.
He
, on the other hand, couldn’t have cared less. As long as I did nothing to embarrass him.”

“Right,” Kim snorted. “I took care of that.”

Cheryl stood and jabbed her cigarette out in the sink. “Well, when they were ragging on you, at least they weren’t on my back.”

A wave of sadness washed over Kim. She and Cheryl could never connect as sisters, because they’d been pitted against each other from the start. If one succeeded, the other had to fail.

“I just went along with the whole
yes, Mom, yes, Da
d routine. I have to admit, though, I kind of admired you for putting up a fight. Even though I thought you were crazy. You had guts. You wouldn’t be the little Barbie-doll they wanted.”

Kim laughed. “And look where it’s got me.”

“Well, I went along with the program. The right schools, the right friends, the right husband.”

Cheryl’s mouth quirked in a sardonic little smile.

“And look where it’s gotten
me
.”

“What do you mean?” Kim’s voice was soft.

“I’m exactly where Angela is.” Cheryl’s glossy lips formed a bitter line. “I hated her, you know. For not standing up to him. For selling out. Putting up with his other women in exchange for the big house and designer clothes. I despised her. Maybe I still do.

But I’ve ended up just like her.” She gave Kim a small smile. “That pretty little blond Randall’s been hovering around the whole evening? I have no doubt he’s propositioning her as we speak.”

Kim’s mouth fell open. Cheryl knew?

“Come on, Kim. We both know my husband is a pig. He’s hit on all my friends, and I’m sure more than one of them has taken him up on it. I’m surprised he’s never made a move on you.”

Kim felt her face turn to stone as she remembered that one Christmas.

Cheryl’s eyebrows rose. “Oh. I guess I spoke too soon.”

Kim’s throat felt clogged. “I
didn’t
take him up on it.”

“And you never said a word. Were you trying to protect me?”

Kim wished she could take credit for that kind of nobility. “I thought you wouldn’t believe me. Or that you’d think I led him on.”

The sisters stared at each other, bitterly recognizing the lack of trust between them. “I’m sorry.” Cheryl’s eyes were liquid, and Kim saw a crack in her brittle mask.

“Why are you even with him?” She burst out.

“You don’t have to put up with it.”

“Inertia, maybe. I don’t know. Or maybe I’m just a sell-out like Angela. I’ll trade my self-respect for all the perks of having a successful husband.”

“You’re better than that.” Kim didn’t know what else to say.

The cynical façade was back in place. “You think so?” They remained silent a few more moments.

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we? Hiding out in the toilet.” Cheryl thrust back her shoulders. “Well, can’t stay in here forever.” She stepped to the door and glanced at Kim. “You coming?”

“In a minute, yeah.”

Just as Cheryl grasped the knob, Kim impulsively touched her sister’s hand. Cheryl went still with surprise and her gaze flew to Kim. She paused, as though about to say something, but instead simply gave a ghost of a smile. And left.

Kim plucked the cigarette butt from the sink and flushed it down the toilet. She washed her hands under the gold plated faucet and dried them on one of the fluffy towels that perfectly matched the sparkling bathroom tiles. Her head spun as she worked to process everything she’d learned. Cheryl’s life, no matter how good it looked from the outside, was just as fucked up as her own—maybe even more fucked up. She’d spent most of her life jealous of her older sister. What for?

Charlie found her in the hallway. “Hey. Wondered where you’d gone to.”

Kim still felt disoriented. “Hi. Did you win the argument?”

“No argument. Just a discussion. I think I made my point, but I doubt I won any converts.”

“You wouldn’t in this crowd.”

Cheryl returned from the kitchen, her mouth tight with exasperation. “This is ridiculous. People are starving. I’m telling the caterers to start serving dinner. Find Mom, would you, and tell her to get out here.”

Angela Hansen was in her bedroom, perched on the edge of the bed, phone in hand. In her other hand, she held her favorite drink, a vodka tonic. The only question was how many had come before it.

She spoke into the phone. “Our guests are here, Jasper. They’re all waiting. Waiting for you.” A pause. “You said that an hour ago. Surely there’s someone else who—”

Kim spoke up, hoping to stem the tirade. “Mom.”

Angela either didn’t hear or pretended not to.

“Really? Or is it you just can’t tear yourself away from your latest little whore? I’m your wife. But you don’t care about me, you don’t care if
I’m humiliated.” She turned and as she caught sight of Kim in the doorway, ended the call abruptly. “Just get here.” She slammed down the receiver.

“Do you make a habit of eavesdropping on private conversations?” Angela’s face was a frozen mask of disdain.

Kim shriveled in the chill of her mother’s scorn.

“Cheryl asked me to find you. The guests are getting hungry.”

“Well, we can’t serve dinner yet. Your father’s not here. Let me talk to her.” She stood and stumbled. When Kim put out a hand to steady her, Angela recoiled. “I’m not drunk.”

Kim’s arm fell to her side. “All right.”

Her mother peered at her with narrowed eyes.