Newton Neighbors (New England Trilogy) (38 page)

Cathi looked around her nervously. “Can you keep your voice down? Let me handle it. I shouldn’t have told you.”

“No you shouldn’t have, because I have to tell you, I feel obliged to tell Michael.”

“What?”

“You heard me. If you don’t tell Michael, I will.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would, and I swear I’ll do it if you don’t. This is so wrong.”

“Wrong? Where do you get off talking to me about wrong?”
 

Cathi balled her hands into fists, and for a moment Maria thought her friend would punch her.
 

“You deserted your husband for Thanksgiving. You ran off with the kids with no note or warning. You just took off while he was working all those hours. That man tries so hard to give you all the best things in life and what do you do?” She raised her voice. “You run away to the sun and to Mommy. You’re so ungrateful.” Cathi looked around her like she was looking for answers.
 

“And you have the nerve to talk to me about good communication? At least Michael and I are happy together. We have a good marriage. Okay, I have this one little situation—not of my making, I might add—but our marriage is good. You, on the other hand? You’re sabotaging yours, and why? What has Rick done wrong? He works!”

Cathi stopped at this point and took a few deep breaths.
 

Maria was dead calm when she spoke. “I think you better go now, Cathi.”

“Yes, I think I’ll leave. But don’t you dare come anywhere near my husband. This is none of your business.”

“Maybe not, but it sure is his. Tell him.”

“I will, but in my way.”

Cathi ran out of the house. Maria sat down again, drained from the interaction.

“What a mess,” she said to herself. Okay, she was having problems, real problems with her marriage, but at least they were honest with each other—as far as she knew, anyway. Had Cathi really lost all sense of decency? Didn’t she see how wrong this was?
 

But Maria wondered if she was overreacting. Maybe sticking her nose into Cathi’s marriage was a step too far, but somebody had to tell Michael. He was making all of their life decisions with the understanding there was another little Grant on the way, and in reality there wasn’t. How horrible was that?
 

There was one thing she was pretty sure about—she wasn’t going to make the invite list to Cathi’s party.

Maria took a sip of her coffee, but it was cold. She really wanted wine anyway. Coffee wasn’t as good at dulling the edges of the day, and her problems didn’t seem so bad when she’d had a glass or two. Maria hauled her sorry self out of the chair and washed out the two mugs of coffee into the sink. She put them in the dishwasher and got herself a large glass of white wine instead. Just as she was leaving the kitchen, she caught sight of her reflection in the window.
 

“What the hell?” She was speaking to an empty room. How had a glass of wine ended up in her hand? Again?

The night before, she had single-handedly drunk a full bottle of wine, and so when she had woken with a hangover that morning, she’d promised herself no more drink for a while. Yet here she was holding a glass of wine—again. She rushed to the sink before she could stop herself and poured it down after the coffee.

“No,” she said aloud. “I don’t need this.” She was shaking a little. What the hell was going on? Was she going to have to add alcoholism to her list of problems?

“Michael, I think I have a problem,” Cathi said as soon as she got back into the house. “I have the most terrible cramps.” She didn’t think about what she was saying. She just had to get through this fast.

Michael was up and on his feet. “Do you think it’s serious? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?” He wrapped a loving arm around her.
 

“Oh no, I just need to go to bed. Can you make sure the girls are ready for school tomorrow? It’s finals this week. Don’t let them stay up too late.”
 

“They’re my children, too, you know. I can manage them. It’s you I’m worried about. Should I call the doctor?”

That made her more nervous than anything. She could fake a miscarriage with Michael, but not in a hospital environment. Without proper management, this could be trickier than she’d first thought.

“Please stop fussing,” she said. “I just need to rest. Put Fifi out before you come to bed.”

“Sure,” he said as he walked with her to the stairs. “Did you get that young girl to help us next weekend?”
 

Cathi’s face brightened. “Oh yes, and she has a nice male friend. He’s going to work the bar. Her college friend can’t help. She’s ill or something.”

“I hope you weren’t exposed to some virus in their house.”

“No, I don’t think so. I didn’t even see her. Anyway, we know why my stomach is upset. I very much doubt that young girl has the same problem,” she said with a smile and started to mount the stairs of her new house.

“Did you visit Maria and Rick?”

Cathi stopped. “You know, I’m worried about those two. Maria was there, but she seemed so depressed. I think their marriage might really be in trouble.”

“No way.”

“Way. It might be a good idea if we give them space, just while they figure things out.” She tried to look concerned. “Okay, I’m off to bed. See you soon.”

“Watch that tummy for me. It’s very precious,” he said as she reached the top of the stairs.

Cathi felt a real stab in her stomach, and she clutched it. She looked back at her husband and smiled. She knew the pain she felt was guilt—pure, unadulterated guilt. Cathi went into her new bedroom and lay down on her bed.

Maria had said some nasty things to her, and Cathi was pretty shook-up. The frustration was that those same things had been lingering at the back of her mind since Thanksgiving, but Cathi had been very good at suppressing them up until now. Ignoring her conscience was difficult but countered by Michael’s adorable affection. It had gotten easier to lie to him because he was so wrapped up in the pregnancy. Who knew he wanted another baby? They were done, as far as she was concerned, but when he’d asked her that day—with such hope in his eyes—it had been easier to say yes than no.
 

Then, of course, there were all the fringe benefits. She had managed to talk him into selling their old house and even renting this one. She had no idea how they were going to afford to buy it, but the market was still very shaky. Maybe she would get lucky.
 

Her conversation with Maria, though annoying, had served to remind her how imperative it was she end this little white lie with her husband. Okay, it was true she had manipulated her husband, but what woman didn’t? Everything in marriage was a manipulation, whether it was deciding who put the trash out or where they were going to live. Cathi’s situation was a little more complex than most. She wasn’t going to hurt anybody. Yes, Michael was working under the illusion the family was growing, but it could be true. Just because she hadn’t got pregnant didn’t mean she couldn’t.

More and more women were getting pregnant in their forties. Michael had brought up that delicate subject just the week before. Cathi had her story straight, though. She’d lied and said her IUD had to be taken out because it was due to be changed. Then she had to wait a month before the new one could be inserted. That was when she’d gotten pregnant. She’d read in a magazine about that happening to a woman, so she knew it was plausible.
 

He had accepted the lie, but now she was going to have to pull off the biggest fib of her marriage. She was going to have to fake a miscarriage during her next period. She hadn’t thought about him dragging her to the hospital. That would never work. The doctors would know the difference between a miscarriage and a period—wouldn’t they?
 

Cathi had to find a way to get him out of the house—preferably away from Newton for a few days. Then she could say it happened while he was gone. That would be much safer. She pulled her knees up and curled into the fetal position. If she couldn’t get him away, maybe she would leave. She could visit New York for a shopping weekend and pretend she miscarried while she was there.

There was a soft knock on the door. “I brought you a glass of milk,” Michael said when he walked in. “And a cookie. I figured you might need the sugar.” He looked so anxious. “You sure you’re feeling all right? Who’s your doctor? I should know these things.”

Cathi sat up in the bed. “Oh, you’re fussing.” She smiled. “I’m feeling better already. I’m just tired. It’s all normal, so stop worrying. Really, I’ve never been healthier.” Well, at least that part wasn’t a lie. She was healthy.
Darn,
she thought, was she going to have to fake a doctor, too?

When Rick got home from the movies with Cody and Todd, he was glad to go to his neighbor’s house for a beer. Anything was better than being at home and trying to avoid his wife. Todd’s parents, Greg and Michelle Palmer, were nice people. They were a little older than Rick and Maria, so for some reason they had never really gotten too close, but beer was beer.

“How’s your mom doing with her two new tenants?” Rick asked Greg.

Greg laughed. “Funny, I’ve been asking her for years to get tenants, and she’s ignored me. Then this little English gal saunters in and it’s a done deal. Do you know her well? Cody told me that she’s Alice’s sitter.”

Rick took a swig of beer from the bottle and nodded. “I think that’s how she met Noreen. It was the night of the toasting. Then they met a few more times. Jessie seems like a nice kid. She’ll be good to your mom.”

Greg looked relieved. “Just in the nick of time. I gotta tell you, Rick—Mom is getting more and more forgetful. It’s really concerning. I’m thrilled the girls are there. Don’t know what I’ll do when they’ve finished college.”

“I think they’re here until the summer. You’ll have to find new students after that.”

“Darn. I’d hoped we might have them for a couple of years.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. Things are changing all the time. I bet somebody else will turn up. Have you met the new neighbors yet? The Grants? I know Michael pretty well. We’re friends.”

“Did they buy number sixteen?”

Rick shook his head. “Nah, they’re renting. I think that price is too high.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining if it’s expensive. That’s great news for us. If I got Mom to sell, she could have her pick of retirement homes or assisted living places.”

Rick winced. “I’m not sure she’s ready for the long jump just yet, buddy. She seems so independent.”

Michelle, Greg’s wife, walked into the room. “And therein is the problem. Good to see you, neighbor,” she said with a smile. “So no more toasting emergencies lately?”

He smiled. “No more of those, thank you very much.”

“Did I hear you talking about the new neighbors? I met her this afternoon, and she invited me to a party there next Saturday.”

“Cathi?”

Greg nodded. “That’s it—Cathi. She knocked on the front door, introduced herself, and invited us over next Saturday.”

“Oh, that’d be Cathi all right. She’s a real doer. I hadn’t heard about the party yet.”

Greg gave him a lopsided grin. “Maybe you haven’t been invited.”

Ricky took another swig of beer. “Ha, see that’s where you’re wrong. I know Cathi, and I can tell you now, she’ll invite everybody on the street. That’s how she rolls—a supreme networker. I’m telling you, before the end of the year she’ll know everybody on this road better than you and me.”