Lucy. Like Missy, Lucy went for fine clothing and fine things. Missy disapproved of Sheridan’s nascent interest in falconry and science and her lack of interest in all things Missy.
To Lucy, Missy said, “And are you wearing that silk dress I brought you from Paris? The electric blue one?”
“School hasn’t started yet,” Lucy said. “But I will.”
Missy nodded with satisfaction.
Marybeth knew Lucy was fibbing. Lucy’d told her she was embarrassed by the dress. That it might as well have had MY GRANDMOTHER IS RICH embroidered on the back of it. That she’d never wear something like that to a seventh-grade dance. She’d also confessed she was getting more and more embarrassed in general by her grandmother, who sometimes acted as if they were contemporaries as well as allies. Marybeth still bristled at the memory of Lucy telling her Missy had said one of the bonds between them included the fact they “shared common enemies.” Meaning Marybeth and Joe.
Marybeth thought, Not now . . . I don’t have time for this .
MARYBETH’S business management company, MBP, had recently been purchased by a local accounting firm looking to widen its base. They’d retained her to run the company for a year while they incorporated her employees and contracts into the firm. Now that Joe was being sent home, it should have been the best of all worlds. But it wasn’t.
Managing the sale of her business, the transition into a larger and entrenched company, the running of the household with three teenage girls, and Joe’s yearlong absence had become almost unbearable. It was as if she were overseeing three full-time operations at once, she thought, and no one seemed to realize or appreciate the pace and scope of her responsibilities. Even Joe, who at least tried. The last time they’d talked, two nights ago over a scratchy satellite phone, Marybeth had declared that she was considering taking up heavy drinking. Joe had said, “You’re kidding, right?”
They sat on opposite sides of the dining room table. Her mother reached across and grasped her hand and said, “You haven’t heard a word I’ve been saying, have you?”
“I thought you were talking to Lucy,” Marybeth said.
“No, Lucy managed to slip away,” Missy said, through a pearly-cold smile. “She’s never going to wear that blue dress, is she?”
“Mom, I don’t know ,” Marybeth said with a sigh.
“It’s not a trivial matter. I can sense her slipping away from me. Perhaps due to the influence of her older sister and her father.”
“Please, not now.”
Missy pulled her hand away and sat back in her chair. Missy had always won battles by withdrawing her affection. It worked almost every time. She knew her beauty—and now her wealth—gave her power over others. Missy dramatically studied Marybeth over the rim of her coffee cup.
Marybeth anticipated what was coming.
“You’re killing yourself,” her mother said, putting the cup down. “I hate seeing what I’m seeing. You have weary eyes, and I can see wrinkles where I’ve never seen them before. There, on the corners of your mouth from fretting. Now I hear through the grapevine you’re thinking of buying a new house.”
“What grapevine?” Marybeth said, not answering the question. The down payment the accounting firm had paid for MBP was enough for them to look seriously for a new home outside of town, where Joe wanted to live. He’d never liked their house in town even though he refused to admit it. Marybeth wanted to have her horses accessible again, and to wake up with the possibility of seeing wildlife. Removing April from easy contact with whatever kids she was hanging around with would be a plus as well, she thought. Lucy would miss suburban living and access to her friends and social whirl, and Marybeth hadn’t told her about a possible move.
“No one buys property in this county without The Earl or me hearing about it,” Missy said. “You should know that by
To Lucy, Missy said, “And are you wearing that silk dress I brought you from Paris? The electric blue one?”
“School hasn’t started yet,” Lucy said. “But I will.”
Missy nodded with satisfaction.
Marybeth knew Lucy was fibbing. Lucy’d told her she was embarrassed by the dress. That it might as well have had MY GRANDMOTHER IS RICH embroidered on the back of it. That she’d never wear something like that to a seventh-grade dance. She’d also confessed she was getting more and more embarrassed in general by her grandmother, who sometimes acted as if they were contemporaries as well as allies. Marybeth still bristled at the memory of Lucy telling her Missy had said one of the bonds between them included the fact they “shared common enemies.” Meaning Marybeth and Joe.
Marybeth thought, Not now . . . I don’t have time for this .
MARYBETH’S business management company, MBP, had recently been purchased by a local accounting firm looking to widen its base. They’d retained her to run the company for a year while they incorporated her employees and contracts into the firm. Now that Joe was being sent home, it should have been the best of all worlds. But it wasn’t.
Managing the sale of her business, the transition into a larger and entrenched company, the running of the household with three teenage girls, and Joe’s yearlong absence had become almost unbearable. It was as if she were overseeing three full-time operations at once, she thought, and no one seemed to realize or appreciate the pace and scope of her responsibilities. Even Joe, who at least tried. The last time they’d talked, two nights ago over a scratchy satellite phone, Marybeth had declared that she was considering taking up heavy drinking. Joe had said, “You’re kidding, right?”
They sat on opposite sides of the dining room table. Her mother reached across and grasped her hand and said, “You haven’t heard a word I’ve been saying, have you?”
“I thought you were talking to Lucy,” Marybeth said.
“No, Lucy managed to slip away,” Missy said, through a pearly-cold smile. “She’s never going to wear that blue dress, is she?”
“Mom, I don’t know ,” Marybeth said with a sigh.
“It’s not a trivial matter. I can sense her slipping away from me. Perhaps due to the influence of her older sister and her father.”
“Please, not now.”
Missy pulled her hand away and sat back in her chair. Missy had always won battles by withdrawing her affection. It worked almost every time. She knew her beauty—and now her wealth—gave her power over others. Missy dramatically studied Marybeth over the rim of her coffee cup.
Marybeth anticipated what was coming.
“You’re killing yourself,” her mother said, putting the cup down. “I hate seeing what I’m seeing. You have weary eyes, and I can see wrinkles where I’ve never seen them before. There, on the corners of your mouth from fretting. Now I hear through the grapevine you’re thinking of buying a new house.”
“What grapevine?” Marybeth said, not answering the question. The down payment the accounting firm had paid for MBP was enough for them to look seriously for a new home outside of town, where Joe wanted to live. He’d never liked their house in town even though he refused to admit it. Marybeth wanted to have her horses accessible again, and to wake up with the possibility of seeing wildlife. Removing April from easy contact with whatever kids she was hanging around with would be a plus as well, she thought. Lucy would miss suburban living and access to her friends and social whirl, and Marybeth hadn’t told her about a possible move.
“No one buys property in this county without The Earl or me hearing about it,” Missy said. “You should know that by
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