Read Online Wellesley Wives (New England Trilogy) by Suzy Duffy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Suzy Duffy
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coming over later for lunch to help her celebrate her fiftieth birthday. “That’s really what it’s all about.”
Unlike the rest of the house, Peter and Popsy chose modern for the bathroom. The bath was not on four claws as one might expect in a house full of antiques. They had opted for a sunken, built-in Jacuzzi. The shower had been changed for the rain forest type only a few months earlier, but Peter insisted on all the side sprayers, too.
The Jacuzzi was Popsy’s favorite. The only disadvantage was that it took a long time to fill. She turned both faucets to full-blast while she brushed her teeth. Then, just as she had with her body, she examined her teeth and gums. Were they aging, too? Probably.
She was used to seeing her face on a regular basis, but what with the birthday and the rest of the assessment, Popsy had a real hard look at herself now. “Oh dear,” she mumbled as she saw the lines under her eyes. In fairness, there weren’t many.
She was holding her own pretty well, but still she thought Sandra had a point. Perhaps it was time to up her game. She worked out with Sandra now and again, but Popsy usually went along for the chat and never particularly exerted herself, while her friend pushed it as hard as she could.
Yes, she decided, it was definitely time for her to spend more energy on looking good. Not so many long, slow walks and more importantly, not so many long, slow lunches.
Popsy added a bath bomb to the water and sat on the side, waiting for it to fill some more and for the fizzing to stop. She thought about Sandra. That girl really was in a bit of a place at the moment. One minute she was talking about walking out on the marriage and the next she was considering getting pregnant. There was quite a chasm there. Popsy felt pretty sure that the road to happiness was somewhere in between the two, but Sandra didn’t appear to be in any mood to take advice just yet.
She dearly hoped she wouldn’t do something she was going to spend a lifetime regretting. Jack would have a fit if he thought Sandra was trying to get pregnant. How long had she been trying? Maybe she was pregnant already. It would certainly explain the tears on the way to the ladies’ lunch and the irritability with Jack the previous night.
She tested the water and was satisfied that it was full enough and just the right temperature. She slipped in. It was heaven. She let her head slide under the surface and massaged her scalp. Then she pushed with her feet until her head came back up and her hair was slicked back.
“There are very few things in life better than a good soak,” she announced to the room. Then she let her mind wander back to the night before.
When the Hoffmans had gone home, Popsy had snuggled up to her husband who was sitting on the sofa. “Have a good night, Peter?” she asked, gently trying to get his attention.
“Mmm.” He seemed to be miles away.
“They were a rather reserved lot, I thought. Your prospective investors.”
The talk relating to his business dealings did the trick, and he tuned in. “Huh? Don’t let their manner fool you. They would eat you for breakfast,” he said, seeming to notice for the first time that she was sitting right next to him.
She stroked his leg absentmindedly. “Funny, I found them quiet—not anywhere near as dynamic as you are, darling.”
Peter yawned and stretched his arms high above his head. “I have a feeling that their guard was up because we didn’t manage to make a deal. You might have seen another side of them if our negotiations had gone well.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and played with a loose tendril of her hair.
She smiled as she thought about it now. She’d had her hair done in an up-style for the previous night, but by the end of the evening, after all the “playing” with her husband, it looked like a haystack. She poured a golf-ball-size dollop of shampoo into her hand and lathered her hair.
She would be back in the
Unlike the rest of the house, Peter and Popsy chose modern for the bathroom. The bath was not on four claws as one might expect in a house full of antiques. They had opted for a sunken, built-in Jacuzzi. The shower had been changed for the rain forest type only a few months earlier, but Peter insisted on all the side sprayers, too.
The Jacuzzi was Popsy’s favorite. The only disadvantage was that it took a long time to fill. She turned both faucets to full-blast while she brushed her teeth. Then, just as she had with her body, she examined her teeth and gums. Were they aging, too? Probably.
She was used to seeing her face on a regular basis, but what with the birthday and the rest of the assessment, Popsy had a real hard look at herself now. “Oh dear,” she mumbled as she saw the lines under her eyes. In fairness, there weren’t many.
She was holding her own pretty well, but still she thought Sandra had a point. Perhaps it was time to up her game. She worked out with Sandra now and again, but Popsy usually went along for the chat and never particularly exerted herself, while her friend pushed it as hard as she could.
Yes, she decided, it was definitely time for her to spend more energy on looking good. Not so many long, slow walks and more importantly, not so many long, slow lunches.
Popsy added a bath bomb to the water and sat on the side, waiting for it to fill some more and for the fizzing to stop. She thought about Sandra. That girl really was in a bit of a place at the moment. One minute she was talking about walking out on the marriage and the next she was considering getting pregnant. There was quite a chasm there. Popsy felt pretty sure that the road to happiness was somewhere in between the two, but Sandra didn’t appear to be in any mood to take advice just yet.
She dearly hoped she wouldn’t do something she was going to spend a lifetime regretting. Jack would have a fit if he thought Sandra was trying to get pregnant. How long had she been trying? Maybe she was pregnant already. It would certainly explain the tears on the way to the ladies’ lunch and the irritability with Jack the previous night.
She tested the water and was satisfied that it was full enough and just the right temperature. She slipped in. It was heaven. She let her head slide under the surface and massaged her scalp. Then she pushed with her feet until her head came back up and her hair was slicked back.
“There are very few things in life better than a good soak,” she announced to the room. Then she let her mind wander back to the night before.
When the Hoffmans had gone home, Popsy had snuggled up to her husband who was sitting on the sofa. “Have a good night, Peter?” she asked, gently trying to get his attention.
“Mmm.” He seemed to be miles away.
“They were a rather reserved lot, I thought. Your prospective investors.”
The talk relating to his business dealings did the trick, and he tuned in. “Huh? Don’t let their manner fool you. They would eat you for breakfast,” he said, seeming to notice for the first time that she was sitting right next to him.
She stroked his leg absentmindedly. “Funny, I found them quiet—not anywhere near as dynamic as you are, darling.”
Peter yawned and stretched his arms high above his head. “I have a feeling that their guard was up because we didn’t manage to make a deal. You might have seen another side of them if our negotiations had gone well.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and played with a loose tendril of her hair.
She smiled as she thought about it now. She’d had her hair done in an up-style for the previous night, but by the end of the evening, after all the “playing” with her husband, it looked like a haystack. She poured a golf-ball-size dollop of shampoo into her hand and lathered her hair.
She would be back in the
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