Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3) (32 page)

“Of course, dearest. Whatever it is you’re up to, you’ll need me to advise you. I’m a much better schemer.”

Gwen laughed.

“Gwen, you haven’t a devious bone in your body. You need me.”

“You’re so right, Lorraine. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Ta.”

“Love you, bye.”

As soon as she hung up, she was confronted with a bigger challenge.

“You’re going to leave me for a whole week?” Haley wailed. “Without a car? Alone? In this big house?”

Yikes, I didn’t think of that
. “Yes,” Gwen said. “And we have one day to plan it so you’ll have fun, food, friends, and whatever your heart desires.” She grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil. “Let’s get busy.”

Haley agreed to drive Gwen to the airport in exchange for the use of her car. And she agreed to buy her own gas. Together, they drew up menus for meals and snacks for a full week. Then they made a comprehensive grocery list and spent a few hours together at Gwen’s favorite supermarket.

Haley remembered that Thursday was her trip to RIT with Sara, so she arranged to take Sara to supper that evening. Sara reciprocated by inviting Haley to go with her and Manda on a thrift-shop adventure that Saturday. “This will be fun,” Haley said, “and I’ll go to AA meetings. Maybe I’ll take supper to Phil’s house the day of his meeting. Do you think he’d like that?”

“He would love it.”

“And I have work to do for my classes, too.”

“Think you’ll ever have time to talk with me on the phone?” Gwen teased.

“You mean, I get to hear, first-hand, what you’re up to?”

“You get the exclusive story.”

“Cool. Maybe some day,” Haley said shyly, “you and I could take a trip together, someplace special.”

“Pick a place,” Gwen said with a fond smile.

Haley’s eyes danced. “Those gardens in the Pacific Northwest—near Vancouver.”

“Sounds good. I don’t know anything about them.”

“I’ll do some research while you’re away.”

She’s going to be okay
.

Gwen dodged a gaggle of women shoppers as they exited Harrods onto Brompton Road. “Which way?” she asked Lorraine.

Lorraine stepped neatly to Gwen’s right and blocked the way. “First, show me what you bought.”

Gwen held up her single shopping bag and steeled herself as her imperious friend probed the contents with a stern face.

“It’s as I thought. Casual sweaters and another pair of jeans.” She tapped her designer-booted foot. “Gwen, from this moment forward, you will take your wardrobe seriously. And I am in charge.”

Gwen bowed her head and studied the boot that fit Lorraine’s shapely leg like a glove. In contrast to Gwen’s charcoal duffle coat, black straight-leg trousers and gray cowl-neck sweater, Lorraine wore a long, brown suede skirt, a butterscotch cashmere turtleneck, and an espresso leather coat, with a signature silk-and-wool scarf tossed over one shoulder.

Gwen gave Lorraine’s slender waist a squeeze. “But I like sexy jeans and cashmere sweaters. So does my future hubby.”

“Completely missing my point.” Lorraine waved her hands. “I don’t care what you wear around the house or at the supermarket. I care about your public face. Now that you’ll be living in the house I built on Cady’s Point, you are representing me and all the women in my Cady lineage.”

Gwen put on her professional face for a moment—the one that hid every emotion—and reconsidered her story. She might be on shaky ground with this complication. Did Lorraine plan to monitor her every move as the new owner of Cady’s Point? Did she have some distant relative on the lake that cared about such things? Gwen seriously doubted it. Lorraine was probably just manipulating her into a shopping bender.

Come to think of it, I have nothing appropriate to wear as a trustee of the Forrester Center
. She would be attending board meetings and receptions and fundraisers.
And I do need color in my wardrobe
.

With an admiring smile, she told Lorraine, “You’re completely right. I desperately need two or three decent suits. Oh, and something colorful, like silk tops and scarves. And a smashing cocktail dress or two. You know I’m clueless about these things.”

Lorraine beamed. “We’ll ship everything, never fear, so you don’t need to carry extra luggage.”

Gwen’s eyes opened wide as her lips formed the word “Everything.”
Remember, the deed to Cady’s Point is not yet yours
. “You are an angel, Lorraine. I bow to your style and wisdom.”

“Marvelous.” Lorraine took Gwen’s elbow steered to their right. “Come, we’ll start with Armani for suits. And Gucci has a smashing black dress with your name on it. Then—”

“Then tea at the Ritz, my treat, I insist. We have several more days to do all this, you know.”
God help me.

“Justin, I called as soon as I could. We’re at the Ritz, where we’re having tea. I’m in the ladies’ room. It’s a go, but Lorraine insists—and I agree—that both our attorneys need to be present for the closing—here in London, in two days, if at all possible.”

“Oh, thank you, God. You are a miracle worker, Gwen. Let me make notes as we talk.” She heard him tapping keys. “I will somehow convince Oscar to make the trip. I may need to come with him and show him London for a few days.”

Gwen rested her backside against a gilded vanity. “Please, please don’t show yourself or let Oscar divulge to a single soul that you’re involved in this. Or even that you’re in London. Lorraine would pull the plug, we know that.”

“Understood. I hear the strain in your voice. Something’s wearing on you, isn’t it, Gwen?”

“I feel like I’m on a runaway train.” Her laugh sounded hysterical, even to her ears. “Every time I think it’s settled, there’s another bend in the track that throws me.”

“I warned you it would be like that. She is devious. You’re not used to operating out of deception. Does it bother you to deceive your lifelong friend?”

“Thank you for acknowledging that little detail,” Gwen said with a dry chuckle.

“I apologize for not thinking of it until after you’d taken off for London. I half-expected you to turn around and abandon the mission.”

“Well, don’t blow it out of proportion. In the first place, Lorraine has lived her entire life manipulating people to her will or her whim. She would never view this with the same scruples I do.”

“And what are your scruples telling you?”

“I did a lot of soul-searching about this on the flight and made my peace with it. I am simply out-maneuvering her to do the right thing. I really believe, in the depths of my soul, this rehab is important for the Finger Lakes area—for the people it will employ, for the patients who will benefit from it, for the practitioners who will work in harmony with specialists from other fields.” She glanced at her scuffed walking shoes.
How can Lorraine walk all day in those boots with the three-inch heels?

“Furthermore, in denying the land to you and Joel, Lorraine has been petty and selfish. The land means nothing to her now, except that it carries her grandmother’s name. Besides, in light of the dissolution of her marriage to the degenerate she lived with in that house on Cady’s Point, the whole place has bad juju for her. And most important, as her friend, I can see that she has not moved on from that experience, even though she’s living an ocean away.

“And, finally, from my perspective, this transfer of ownership is important to my dear friends, Manda and Gianessa, who are willing to stake their careers on the wellness center. And it’s important to you, Justin. You’re putting up the capital.”

“Did I hear a ‘but’ in that speech?” Justin asked.

Wise guy
. “But.” Gwen smiled at her phone. “You’re correct. It’s hard. Besides, at some point, Lorraine will discover the deception.”

“We hope not for a while. And what will you do when she does?”

“I’ll defend my actions with the self-righteous speech I just made. If she forces my hand, I will tell her I’m building a rehab with my family name on it . . . on land that will continue to carry her family name. I can play up the public honor of having the Cady name associated with it.” Gwen paused for a breath. “Anyway, that’s my story, so far as I’ve thought it through.”

Justin was quiet. She heard him clicking keys. “Are you having second thoughts?” she asked him.

“Not at all. What would you think about making her a board member or something along those lines?”

“Absolutely not! She can have no involvement in this operation. That would open the door to sabotage.”

“I see your point.”

“I don’t even want her to be a patient at our rehab. If I could think of a way to prevent that, I’d put it in the agreement as well.”

“I will discuss all this with Oscar on the way over. He’s an old hand at this sort of thing.”

“Thank you. And thanks for letting me spew.”

“I hope it has eased your mind. Tell me, does the Ritz serve those little dark chocolates with the pomegranate filling?”

“Aren’t they’re delicious?” Gwen let out a sensual moan. “They have them at Harrods, too. Let me know where you’re staying, and I’ll have a box sent to your hotel room.”

“We’ll rendezvous somehow, Gwen, perhaps at an AA meeting. Rest assured Oscar and I will have you covered legally, on all sides.”

On the last day of the London shopping extravaganza, Gwen made a long call to her niece. Haley had handled the time alone with maturity and good humor. She’d raved about her trip on Thursday to RIT with Sara. On Wednesday, she had fixed eggplant parmesan for Phil, using Edie’s recipe, then lugged it along with salad and cookies to Phil’s, on the path through the woods. He’d teased her about being Little Red Riding Hood.
Must find a red shawl for Haley
.

“You’re beaming like a proud parent,” Lorraine said. “She’s done well on her own?”

“She blows me away sometimes. I need one last gift before I’m ready to bring our shopping to an end.” She told Lorraine about the red shawl, and Lorraine directed their tired feet to a nearby boutique. Gwen made her purchase, stealthily added a scarf that Lorraine had admired, and picked another for herself in a delicate, peach-and-gray print.

Over dinner, Lorraine toasted with champagne and Gwen clinked glasses—hers filled with sparkling water.

“The deal is sealed,” Lorraine said. “Your flight is booked, and you have one more day in England. Why not come home with me tomorrow on the train and spend time with my boys?”

Gwen’s face lit up. “I’d like nothing more.”

“We’ll have my driver pick them up at school as soon as we arrive. I’ll catch up with friends, while you and the boys do whatever you wish. Then tea, just the two of us, and you can return to London by train tomorrow evening or first thing in the morning, before your flight.”

“Tomorrow evening, I think.”

Gwen already had plans to meet Justin at an AA meeting the next night, and he had found her a room at his hotel so they could travel home together. Although Oscar had flown back from London immediately after the closing, Justin had stayed on to see colleagues at the London campus of the University of Chicago, including Manda’s sister, Lyssa.

“We should make this an annual event, dearest,” Lorraine said, her eyes sparkling at the thought.

“Let’s,” Gwen agreed.
But more culture and less shopping.

“Paris next November?”

Crystal rang as they touched glasses.

By the end of the day, Gwen and the boys had spent hours exploring one lane after another as they walked to the river and back. She had loved every minute—every adventure Chipper recounted, every tall-tale Alex spun for her, every detail about their private school and cricket matches. Their British accents had taken her by surprise, but of course they’d been raised since ages two and three in the Thames Valley.

They had pressed her for memories of their father, which she hadn’t anticipated.
He was a snake and a rake and I hope you never know any of that.
She pleaded ignorance, except to say he was very handsome and very smart. That led to a contest for her to judge which of them was more handsome and which was smarter.

Now, lounging in Lorraine’s library, Gwen was tired and hungry and on edge. Her gaze locked onto the sherry glass in Lorraine’s hand. She watched it rise from the inlaid table, touch Lorraine’s lips, and tip to dispense a sip of the finest Oloroso. Gwen could taste its mellow, fragrant bouquet on her tongue, feel the warmth in her throat.
God help me.
Will the sandwiches and tea never arrive?

“Tell me how much you’re going to love your new clothes.” Lorraine’s mouth curved with a smile.

Gwen closed her eyes.
I can do this
. “You’ve made a new woman out of me. Elegant and chic. And I love the hints of color in all the silk and cashmere.”

“I always knew best where your clothes were concerned, didn’t I, dearest?” Lorraine rested her head against the back of her favorite wing chair and smiled up at the ornate ceiling. Thick, oak beams formed a grid overhead, with squares of embossed leather set between.

“You always did,” Gwen agreed. Her gaze circled the walls of room and admired the bold flower paintings positioned between each of the floor-to-ceiling, oak bookcases. One of the smaller paintings, she was sure, was a Georgia O’Keeffe. Beneath it, on another inlaid table, a bouquet of lilies leant their heady fragrance to the room.

Gwen noted an empty, inlaid table by the door. She would send Lorraine one of Haley’s boldest watercolors in a gilded frame and suggest it be displayed there.

“Thank you, Charles.” Lorraine’s voice interrupted Gwen’s musing. Charles set down a tray of triangular tea sandwiches for them. “That will be all.”

Gwen eyed the tray and gave it a turn so the egg and cress triangles were close to her. She took one and finished it in three bites.

“If it doesn’t work out with your fiancé, you can always sell and move here, Gwen.” Lorraine gestured beyond the windows to her property. “It’s so civilized and charming in this little valley.”