They were having breakfast in the main house—an egg soufflé, fried potatoes and some sausage links Rosemary had left in the oven for them—when Claire’s phone signaled a text. Marlow noticed how quickly Aida looked up at the sound, and that Claire silenced her ringer right away.
“Just my neighbor, assuring me she’ll water my plants and get my mail while I’m gone,” she said.
That Claire had volunteered that information made it ring false. Marlow suspected it was Dutton who’d texted her but wasn’t about to press the issue. If it was, she didn’t want Aida to know. Aida was already struggling with the fact that Dutton was still in the picture when she’d thought she and Claire were through with him for good, that they’d support each other in moving on and leaving him behind. What she’d learned yesterday had to be stirring up a maelstrom of emotions, including the worst of Aida’s doubts and fears. But Marlow could understand Claire’s position, too. It was hard not to love someone if you already did.
With a frown, she finished buttering the toast she’d made to go with her meal. Of the three of them, she’d slept the latest. Her friends had been able to tell something was wrong with her the moment they saw her, so she’d told them she’d had trouble sleeping. She wasn’t eager to explain what’d happened when she attempted to apologize to Walker. The whole thing was better off forgotten.
She supposed she and Claire had their secrets this morning.
“Reese texted me a couple of hours ago,” Aida announced. “He wants us to come to the club and play tennis this afternoon.”
Claire set her glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice next to her plate. “I’ve only played a handful of times,” she responded.
“But you’re athletic.”
“I’m good at yoga,” she said with a laugh. “That doesn’t make me good at tennis.”
“We’ll need four for doubles,” Aida pointed out.
In her current frame of mind, Marlow wasn’t interested in doing much of anything. But, fortunately, a cold shower had helped cut the mental fog she’d found herself in after tossing and turning most of the night, going over her many past experiences with Walker and how terribly she’d behaved. She supposed getting out on the court would be preferable to moping around all day. “Reese can take you as his partner,” she said. “It’ll even up the teams, since I’m sure he’s a lot better than Aida or me.”
“If he’s a pro, he might get frustrated with having me as a partner,” Claire said.
“He might be a pro, but he’s also a coach,” Aida reminded her. “He’s used to teaching people how to play.”
“Not in one hour!” she quipped.
“Reese won’t mind,” Rosemary interjected, walking into the room from the kitchen.
Marlow hadn’t realized she was back from grocery shopping. But there was a door, as well as a large pantry, off the kitchen to make it easy to unload and store supplies, so Rosemary must not have come through the house.
“How’s breakfast?” Rosemary was carrying a peach tart she placed in the middle of the table along with a pie server. “You must not have seen this.”
“We did see it,” Aida said. “It was sitting on the counter, but we weren’t sure it was for us.”
“Of course it’s for you! I make quite a few of these each summer. Marlow’s mother loves nothing more than a good Georgia peach, so I put them in a lot of things.”
“How’s Mom doing this morning?” Marlow had peeked in on her when she first came in, but Eileen seemed to be sleeping, so she’d backed quietly away.
“I’m afraid she’s still a bit under the weather. But if we’re lucky, this attack won’t last much longer.”
“I can hear you talking about me, you know,” Eileen joked, surprising them by making her way gingerly into the room. She had her hair combed and was wearing a touch of makeup, but the dark circles under her eyes had never been more exaggerated, and she’d put on a “housedress,” which wasn’t something she generally wore in front of company. That alone indicated she didn’t plan on going out.
Marlow got up to help her to the table. “I was just wondering how you’re feeling.”
“I’m doing fine,” her mother said. “Don’t worry about me.”
Those words offered little comfort. Eileen obviously wasn’t fine. “Is there anything you’d like me to do for you today?” Marlow asked. “Aida and Claire and I were thinking about going over to the club. If you feel strong enough to go with us, you could sit under an umbrella with a cool, fruity drink and watch us play.”
“I’d like that, but I don’t think I can make it today.”
“Maybe when you’re feeling better, we can go for a drive. Claire and Aida would like to see more of the island as well as some of the other islands that are close by.”
“That would be nice,” Eileen said.
Rosemary hurried to bring Eileen a plate and scooped some food onto it. But Eileen showed no interest. She didn’t even pick up her fork. Marlow guessed she’d come to the table only to make an appearance and say hello.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?” Rosemary asked her softly. “A little caffeine might give you some energy.”
“No, thank you. Not right now.” Eileen turned to Marlow. “Have you heard from Sam?”
Marlow swallowed the bite she’d just taken. “Dad’s attorney? No, not yet.”
“You should call him.”
For some odd reason, Marlow happened to notice Rosemary standing with a hot pad in one hand and the coffeepot in the other, her forehead creased with worry. But before Marlow could ask if something was wrong, Rosemary realized she was being watched and hid the concern on her face beneath a professional-looking smile as she continued to move around the table, refilling cups.
“Okay. I’ll get in touch.” They hadn’t even gone through her father’s belongings, but Marlow figured she might as well plunge into the work required by her father’s estate. It had to happen at some point.
Eileen made small talk with Aida and Claire as Rosemary served the tart. Aida told her about the family she had back in North Dakota, what her parents did for a living and that she had two younger brothers, both of whom worked in the oil field like their father had before he retired.
“Ricky is a well tester,” she said proudly. “He makes almost a hundred thousand dollars a year, even though he only has a couple semesters of college.”
“What does your other brother do?” Eileen asked.
“Dan’s three years younger than Ricky, so he’s just a roughneck trying to work his way up to drill operator. He’ll make almost as much as Ricky when he does.”
“I didn’t realize the oil field paid that well,” Marlow said.
“It’s difficult work,” Aida responded. “It can be dangerous, too. One of Ricky’s friends lost his arm on a rig a couple of years ago.”
Claire looked horrified. “How’d that happen?”
“He was on a sliding ladder that collapsed and caught his arm.”
“How sad.” Eileen took a small bite of the peach tart, which was the first thing Marlow had seen her eat. “What made you leave North Dakota?”
“I wanted to be an actress.”
“So you moved to Hollywood? Are you interested in returning to acting now that...now that certain parts of your life have changed?”
Marlow nearly chuckled at the euphemism, but Aida didn’t comment on it. She pursed her lips as she considered her response. “I don’t think that’s realistic. Not at this age.”
“You say that as if you’re over-the-hill,” Eileen joked.
“In Hollywood, I am.”
Eileen allowed Rosemary to pour her some coffee, after all. “So what will you do?”
Marlow had been wondering the same thing. Aida was good at tennis, but not quite good enough to give lessons, and that was all Marlow knew she could do, other than a little singing, dancing and acting.
“I love fashion. I’d like to open a boutique.”
“That’s a great idea!” Claire exclaimed.
Marlow liked it, too. But would Aida have enough with the settlement from her divorce?
She couldn’t help glancing at Claire. If Claire got back with Dutton, and started enjoying the income Aida once had, it would spell the end of their friendship.
Marlow shoved those thoughts into the back of her mind while they discussed the kind of chic boutique they could see Aida owning—in Beverly Hills or somewhere like that.
“What about you?” Eileen turned her attention to Claire. “Were you born and raised in LA?”
“In Long Beach,” Claire replied. “My mom had me when she was only sixteen, so I was raised by my grandmother.”
“And your father?”
“He was only seventeen, so he was young, too. He’s never been part of my life. My grandfather was, for a short time, but he had a stroke and passed away when I was ten.”
“Her grandmother has since passed, too,” Marlow murmured.
Finished eating, Claire set her utensils on her plate so Rosemary could take them away. “She would’ve been eighty this summer.”
Eileen shifted positions to face Claire more directly. “If you don’t mind my asking, where is your mother these days?”
“She lives in Santa Barbara with her husband and children.”
“You have half siblings, then.”
“Yes. Three little sisters—twelve, ten and seven.”
“So your mother is doing well?”
“She is. Once she graduated from college, she met a great guy and they’re happy together.”
Marlow understood that Claire had to feel somewhat as she herself had always felt—different. Neither of them had a standard childhood. That made it difficult for Marlow not to be sympathetic when it came to Dutton. The only person Claire had ever been able to rely on, after her grandfather died, was her grandmother. It was the money she inherited from “Bea” that’d enabled her to set up her yoga studio and buy the house she’d lost in the fire. Fortunately, when she’d received word that she needed to evacuate, she’d managed to save most of her memorabilia.
Eileen took a sip of coffee. “Marlow told me you’re a yoga instructor.”
“I am. Or I was,” she added with a grimace.
“If you’d like to work part-time while you’re here, you might check with the club, see if they’re interested in an instructor. They offer Pilates and spin classes. I bet they’d love to add yoga to the schedule.”
“And Reese could put in a good word for you,” Rosemary said. “So could Walker, for that matter. He spends a lot of time at the club, playing tennis with his brother.”
Marlow nearly choked on her last bite. She planned to spend a lot of time at the club herself—to get plenty of exercise, forget about troubled marriages for a change and enjoy whiling away the hot days of summer. The last thing she wanted was to run into Walker whenever she went there.
“That’s a good idea,” Claire said. “I’ll ask when we go this afternoon.”
Marlow touched Rosemary’s arm as she came around to collect the plates. “Thank you. Breakfast—especially that tart—was delicious.”
“I like having a houseful of people,” she said.
Company was likely a welcome distraction. No doubt it’d been quiet since Tiller died. Probably too quiet.
Marlow was just getting up when her phone went off. “It’s Dad’s attorney,” she told her mother and walked outside so she’d be able to hear him above the voices of the others, who were thanking Rosemary and saying goodbye to Eileen. “Hello?”
“Marlow, it’s Sam.”
“Thanks for calling,” she said. “My mother’s been eager for us to touch base.”
“Yes. I’ve been trying to reach her, but it’s been almost impossible.”
“She hasn’t been feeling well.”
“That’s too bad. It’s the MS?”
“Yes.”
“Such a difficult disease,” he said. “But what about you? How are you doing these days?”
Should she tell him she was going to quit practicing law after all the time and effort she’d put into becoming an attorney?
She decided not to bring it up. Who could say? Maybe she’d miss some aspect of her work and change her mind over the course of the summer. “I’m doing okay,” she said. “And you?”
“Hanging in there. I feel terrible about your father.”
Marlow had thought she’d cried all she could cry over her father’s death, and yet Sam’s sympathy evoked fresh emotion. “Thank you. It came as a shock. But...you must be calling about the reading of the will or something.”
“Yes. I was hoping you and your mother could come to Georgia to meet with me so we could take care of some estate business.”
Meet with him? She thought that only happened in the movies. “My mother hasn’t been feeling well enough to travel.”
She heard him sigh into the phone. “Well, if she can’t make it, can you come on your own?”
“To sign something or...”
“We need to go over a few things. Your father has made some...unusual stipulations. I feel it would be best to speak to you in person.”
Marlow couldn’t imagine what that meant. Most everything could be handled via Zoom and DocuSign. But she’d never had anyone close to her die, especially someone who had wealth they’d be passing along. “Okay. Let’s see...it’s Friday. How about a week from today?”
“My niece’s wedding is that day, so I’ve asked my staff to take Friday off and come in on Saturday instead. Will that work?”
“Sure. I’ll make my flight arrangements and confirm with you once I know what time I’ll be there.”
“Sounds good. I look forward to seeing you next week.”
“Thanks.” He was about to disconnect, but Marlow felt so unsettled she couldn’t help trying to catch him. “Sam?”
“What?”
“This isn’t anything too out of the ordinary, is it?”
There was a slight hesitation before he answered. “We’ll talk when you get here.”
He hung up so fast she couldn’t question him further. Why couldn’t he have offered her some reassurance? No, it’s just routine... Nothing to worry about...
He could easily have said something like that.
And yet he hadn’t.
Tired of spending so much time in her bedroom, Eileen rested on the couch while Rosemary worked around her, dusting the living room. Rosemary was only five years her junior, but Eileen thought she looked fifteen years younger, at least. She was certainly a great deal more energetic and spry. Although most people would consider her to be the luckier one—she’d always had money, she’d been a senator’s wife, she’d once been considered a great beauty—she’d give almost anything to be as healthy and able-bodied as her housekeeper.
Rosemary was attractive, too, like her sons. And she had a nice figure, as well as an engaging smile and a good heart. Eileen was lucky to have her, especially now that Tiller was gone.
“Are you okay?” A look of concern came over Rosemary’s face when she caught sight of her.
Eileen quickly cleared her expression. “Yes. Thank you.”
“It’s great to have Marlow home, isn’t it?”
Rosemary often talked about Marlow, especially when she was trying to cheer up Eileen. Eileen recognized the tactic for what it was, but she was happy to let the conversation move in that direction. “I’ve been looking forward to it for a long time.”
“I like her friends.”
“You know how Claire and Aida met, don’t you?”
Rosemary removed the plants and books from one of the bookshelves that covered the far wall. “I’m afraid I don’t.”
Eileen shared almost everything with her housekeeper. Some days Rosemary was the only person she had to talk to. Eileen thought for sure she’d told Rosemary what Marlow had relayed to her about Aida and Claire. But she’d been so consumed with grief and so ill that maybe she hadn’t. “Aida’s husband was having an affair with Claire.”
Rosemary froze with the dusting spray in her hand. “You’re kidding.”
“No. He pretended to be single, never told her he was married. Can you believe that?”
“No. That’s hard to believe.”
“He lied about everything. His job, his family, his upbringing. He even rented an apartment so Claire could move in with him after the fire destroyed her house.”
“How did they figure it out?”
“Someone told her.”
“That must’ve broken her heart.”
“It did. And then she went straight to Aida’s house to tell her.”
Rosemary slowly wiped the bookshelf she’d prepared. “This is why Aida’s divorced.”
“Yes. After ten years of marriage. Claire broke it off, too.” Eileen shifted so that her left leg wouldn’t ache quite so badly. “Serves him right, don’t you think? He betrayed them both.”
Rosemary replaced the books and plants before moving on to a different shelf. “Anyone can make a mistake, but that sounds...beyond a mistake.”
“I don’t buy that ‘mistake’ garbage. Either you love someone and you’re committed to them, or you don’t and you’re not.”
Rosemary didn’t comment.
“Don’t you think?” Eileen pressed.
“I think it’s a tragedy. That’s what I think. And that it’s unusual Claire and Aida would wind up being such close friends.”
Eileen took a sip of the lemonade Rosemary had left on the coffee table for her. “I was surprised by that, too. Claire didn’t know Dutton was married. It wasn’t her fault. But...can you imagine? Infidelity would’ve been the one thing I could never forgive. I let Tiller know that right from the beginning.”
The spray sounded before Rosemary responded. “Tiller loved you very much.”
“He was an honorable man.” Eileen felt tears well up. “Sometimes I wonder how I’ll ever go on without him.”
Rosemary left her dusting to come over, perch on the edge of the couch and take her hand. “You’re stronger than you know. You’ve seen a lot of things come and go over the years. You’ll get through this, too.”
Although Rosemary’s words were kind, something about the way she said them gave Eileen the impression she was actually talking to herself.