Mending Fences (3 page)

“Ken—he’s my husband—and I think being a mom is a full-time job,” she said, a faintly defensive note in her voice.

Emily wasn’t about to quibble with her choice. “It’s great that you’re able to do that, if it’s what you enjoy,” she said sincerely. “I almost went stir-crazy during the years I was home with the kids. I need that added stimulation of working and I enjoy teaching. It’s hard, though. I have to admit there are days when I feel as if the kids aren’t getting nearly enough of my attention, especially with their dad out of town on business so much.”

“Your husband doesn’t object to you working?”

“To be honest, he wasn’t overjoyed when I went back to work, but mostly because he was afraid it would be a reflection on him. He thought maybe people would get the idea that he wasn’t a good enough provider. Derek had a tough childhood, so image is important to him. He’s a real workaholic.”

“Now that I get,” Marcie commiserated. “Ken’s just as bad. He’d work twenty-four hours a day if he didn’t require at least some sleep.”

She retrieved the baking sheet of cookies from the oven and slid another tray in. “There, that’s the last of
them. Now maybe you and I can relax and you can tell me the scoop on everyone in the neighborhood. Any good dirt?”

Emily laughed. “I’m afraid there are no desperate housewives around here, though I think Adelia Crockett might have a crush on one of the deliverymen…or maybe she really is addicted to QVC and that’s why there are so many packages coming to her house all the time.”

“Adelia Crockett? I don’t think I’ve met her yet.”

“Three doors down from you. She drives a bright red convertible. She moved in about a year ago. I met her once at a neighborhood barbecue, but mostly she keeps to herself. She’s in her forties, I’d say. Doesn’t work, so either she divorced well or she has money of her own.”

“Is she going to show up on my doorstep needing help with a leaky faucet one of these nights?” Marcie asked wryly.

Emily grinned. “Last I heard, she was more likely to show up with a toolbox and offer to help with
your
leaky faucet. She seems pretty self-sufficient, but like I said, I don’t know her that well.”

“Any other gossip? Is there a neighborhood borrower who never brings anything back? Someone who throws outrageously noisy parties? A complainer who calls the cops about everything?”

Emily stared at her. “Where on earth have you been living?”

Marcie chuckled. “Actually it was fine and the neighbors were all really nice, but you never know what you’re getting into when you move. The real estate brokers might warn you about an anticipated bump in real estate taxes, but they won’t say a word about the neighbors who cause everyone grief.”

“Well, rest assured, everyone around here is pretty quiet and friendly. You’re going to like it, unless you were hoping for a little excitement. About the wildest thing that happens is Eddie Delgado doing karaoke at the summer barbecue. The man has the voice of a frog with laryngitis.”

For an instant Marcie looked taken aback, but then she put a hand over her mouth and giggled. “I’m sorry. I met Eddie the other day. I can’t even imagine…” Her voice trailed off and she giggled again. “I like you, Emily Dobbs. I think we’re going to be good friends.”

“Even though I don’t even know what half the appliances in this kitchen are for?” Emily said, surveying the array of intimidating stainless steel. It appeared Marcie owned every cooking aid showcased in the Williams-Sonoma catalog.

Marcie patted her hand. “I know, and that’s all that matters. You make sure our kids get out of school with a basic knowledge of grammar and literature and I’ll make sure we’re all well fed.”

“Now there’s a plan I can get behind, but let me be the one to welcome you with a barbecue. I’ll invite all of the neighbors over next Saturday. Derek has figured out how to use the mammoth grill he insisted we needed and I’m capable of making a salad and a few side dishes.”

“Only if you let me bring dessert,” Marcie said. “There’s a chocolate cake with fresh raspberries I’ve been dying to try. If I make two, will that be enough?”

“That depends on whether one of those is meant just for me,” Emily told her, not entirely in jest.

Marcie grinned. “I’ll bake three. We’ll share the third one over coffee when we get together afterward to dissect the party.”

“Let me retrieve my kids and I’ll get out of your hair,” Emily told her.

“Oh, let them stay, please,” Marcie said. “I’ll walk them home later, say around four.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Grateful to have a reprieve so she could grade papers in total silence, she seized the offer. “If they give you any trouble at all, just call me or bring them home.” She jotted down her phone number and address for Marcie, who immediately stuck the paper onto a bulletin board by her phone.

“They’ll be fine,” Marcie assured her.

“Then I’ll say a quick goodbye and remind them to be on their best behavior.” When she returned from speaking to Dani and Josh, she impulsively gave Marcie a hug. “I’ll have peace and quiet to grade papers. I can get it done in half the time it usually takes. You have no idea what a miracle that is! I’ll call you with the details about next Saturday.”

“Don’t be a stranger, okay? Promise me.”

“You bake. You offer to watch my kids,” Emily said. “Are you kidding? I’m ready to adopt you.”

The Saturday-night barbecue to introduce the Carters to their neighbors was the first of many occasions the two families shared during that winter and spring. For the first time in her marriage, Marcie actually felt as if she were a part of the community around her. She liked knowing everyone on her block and the next, being able to exchange greetings with people and ask about their families and jobs, rather than living in isolation the way they had in their old neighborhood.

She’d never told anyone, not even Emily who would surely understand, about the early financial struggles she and Ken had had in their marriage. She felt as if it would be a betrayal of her husband. Ken had worked hard to rise above their past. They’d scraped by and saved until they could afford an impressive house in a well-to-do area, but even before they’d moved, he’d insisted they strive for a certain image. Sometimes he worried more about the image than the substance of their lives, but Marcie understood. She knew he wanted only the best for her and their kids. He was single-minded about it. If he was impatient with her when she tried to get him to slow down or questioned his priorities, well, he’d earned the right to have things his way. She’d long since reconciled herself to that.

Oddly, though she and Emily had become extremely close, Derek and Ken didn’t get along all that well. She didn’t understand it. Derek was a great guy. He was warm and funny, the kind of dad who showed a real interest in all of the kids and actually listened when they spoke to him. He and Ken should have had a thousand things in common, but there was a wariness between them that sometimes cast a pall over their get-togethers. If they’d been a couple of kids, she would have described it as some kind of rivalry, but they were both mature adults.

Still, it was plain that Ken was always trying too hard to impress Derek and Derek knew it. It was happening again tonight as they ate by the pool at her house.

“You should have seen it,” Ken boasted. “I had those guys eating out of the palm of my hand. The best wine. Steaks so tender you could cut ’em with a butter knife. Then Marcie here has to go and ruin it all by bringing in
these little cups of pudding.” He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what she was thinking.”

“It was chocolate mousse with shaved white chocolate on top, not pudding,” she said defensively. “And in case you didn’t notice, they ate every bite and asked for seconds, so I’d have to say it was a hit.”

“They ate it to be polite,” Ken scoffed.

“I’m sure it was delicious,” Emily said loyally. “Marcie knows more about entertaining than most people will ever know.”

“Thank you,” Marcie said, feeling her cheeks flushing at the praise. Or maybe it was from embarrassment that her husband was demeaning her in front of their friends.

“I don’t suppose you have any of that mousse left,” Derek asked wistfully. “It’s one of my favorites. Needless to say, Emily never makes it.”

“Yes, needless to say,” Emily said, shooting him a grateful look. “I did make instant pudding a couple of weeks ago.”

Ken frowned at both of them and their attempt to elevate Marcie’s efforts.

“I still think some fancy soufflé would have impressed them more,” Ken grumbled, then brightened. “The bottom line, though, is that the next day they signed on the dotted line. Biggest account I’ve reeled in yet. I’m telling you that vice presidency is mine.”

“You’ve worked hard enough for it,” Marcie said, relieved that he’d dropped the topic of her cooking. “You certainly deserve it.”

“Damn straight,” Ken said. He looked at Derek, and for an instant there was none of the usual bluster in his voice, when he said, “Maybe you can give me some pointers on how to handle the boss to make sure I get the
job. You’ve been a vice president at Jankovich and Davis for a while now, right?”

“A couple of years,” Derek said. “Only thing I can tell you is to work hard and do your job. Go above and beyond whenever the opportunity presents itself. In the end that’s the kind of thing that gets their attention.”

Ken looked flustered. “You didn’t spend a lot of time schmoozing with ’em, telling ’em you were the right guy for the job?”

“Not really,” Derek said, then added diplomatically, “but they’re two different companies, Ken. I’m dealing with international sales. You’re dealing with public relations. You know how things work with the people in charge where you are. You have to use the tactics that work under those conditions.”

Ken nodded. “Flash and dazzle, that’s what works with my boss,” he said confidently. “In PR, it’s all about the sizzle, you know what I mean?”

Derek grinned. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Marcie sat back and relaxed for the first time since the discussion had started. For once it seemed the two men were on the same wavelength. With any luck that would last through dessert.

And tonight she’d been smart enough to bake Ken’s favorite cake with caramel frosting. It had taken forever to get the caramel just right, but it would be worth it if he ended the evening with a smile on his face.

Sometimes it seemed she spent as many hours of her day trying to please her husband as Ken spent trying to win the praise of his bosses. In that regard, they both had tough jobs.

There wasn’t a chance in hell she’d ever admit it, but sometimes she envied Emily, whose identity clearly
wasn’t all tied up in gaining her husband’s approval. There’d been a time when Marcie had actually known exactly who she was—a pretty girl from a modest background who was smart, but far from brilliant, and more interested in cooking and baking than the corporate world. She’d also known what she’d wanted out of life. She wanted to marry an ambitious man with potential, have a family and enough money to buy not only the things they needed, but the things they wanted. She’d thought she’d won the lottery when she married Ken, but lately she wondered if she hadn’t given up more than she’d gotten.

She glanced over at Ken and wondered what had happened to the handsome guy who’d pursued her with the same single-minded determination he now used to chase down new accounts at work. He was still good-looking, still driven, but increasingly it seemed he was taking her for granted. Maybe that’s what happened after ten years of marriage, but sometimes she longed for the days when he couldn’t keep his hands off her, when he used his charm on her, not on everyone
except
her.

She sighed and focused her attention on the conversation, which had returned to football as Derek and Ken debated the Dolphins’ chances for making the Super Bowl and lamented bygone days under Coach Don Shula. She glanced across the table and saw that Emily was just as bored as she was.

“Time for dessert?” she inquired brightly. “It’s chocolate cake with caramel frosting.”

“From some can?” Ken asked in a scathing tone.

She gave him a chiding look. “Have you ever known me not to make it from scratch?”

His expression brightened. “Okay, then. I’ll take a piece. A big one.”

“Me, too,” Derek said just as eagerly. “Nobody bakes the way you do, Marcie.”

“Certainly not in our house,” Emily agreed unapologetically.

Marcie marveled at the exchange. Derek’s tone hadn’t held even a hint of implied criticism of his wife and Emily’s response had been just as easygoing. Why couldn’t Ken speak to her or about her the same way? And why couldn’t she make herself speak up if his attitude bothered her so much?

Knowing she wouldn’t find an answer to that tonight, she pushed the topic aside and went inside with Emily to cut the cake. At least she’d gotten that right.

“M
om, can Caitlyn spend the night?” Dani asked Emily on Friday. “Please. It’s not a school night and her mom says it’s okay with her if it’s okay with you.”

Emily thought of her plans to try to bring some order to the chaos around the house. She’d even had some crazy idea about enlisting the kids to clean up their own messes before their dad came home tomorrow after two weeks on the road for business. She gazed at Dani’s hopeful expression and sighed.

“Sure, why not?” she said. “We’ll order pizza.”

“And we can watch videos and have popcorn?” Dani asked.

“I assume that means a trip to choose the movies,” she said, resigned to going back out on the hot, humid evening. Late September was just as bad as July when it came to the Miami weather.

Dani grinned. “Uh-huh. She gets to pick one and I get to pick the other one. That’s what we decided.”

Emily shook her head. Dani always had a plan and it was always fair. “Fine. We’ll go as soon as Caitlyn gets here.”

Dani threw her arms around Emily’s waist. “Thanks. You’re the best! I’ll call her now.”

Emily watched her daughter race up the stairs. She was nine now and she’d overcome all her reservations about being friends with a girl two years younger. She and Caitlyn were as close as sisters. That they chose to spend most of their time here, rather than in the Carters’ far more organized household still bemused Emily, but she had to admit that most of the time she enjoyed having all the kids underfoot. Caitlyn and Evan were both polite and well behaved. They set a good example for her own kids.

She glanced out the back door and saw Josh and Evan horsing around in the pool. Sliding open the back door, she called to her son, who trotted over.

“Caitlyn’s spending the night with Dani. Do you want to ask Evan to stay, too?”

“Awesome,” Josh said at once. “Hey, Evan, Caitlyn’s staying over and Mom says you can stay, too, if you want to.”

“Count me in,” Evan called back.

“Ask your mom,” Emily reminded him. “As soon as Caitlyn gets here we’re going out to get videos to watch. You guys can come, too, and pick your own.”

“Thanks, Mrs. D,” Evan said. “I’ll be right back.”

Already tall for his age, Evan pushed himself out of the pool with an athletic grace that Josh didn’t possess. Much as her son enjoyed sports, he didn’t have the raw talent that Evan had. Thankfully, though, the two boys weren’t especially competitive. Josh just enjoyed playing the game, whatever it was on any given day, and was happy enough to see his friend excel at it. Josh seemed to have inherited her laid-back personality, rather than his dad’s competitive, ambitious one.

As she stepped back inside, Emily heard the phone
ringing. Before she could reach it, Dani apparently grabbed it upstairs, then shouted, “Mom, it’s for you! It’s Mrs. Carter.”

Emily picked up the portable phone and sat at the kitchen table. “Hey, Marcie. How are you?”

“Fine, but wondering why on earth you’d let yourself in for having Evan and Caitlyn over after working all week. You must be exhausted and sick to death of kids.”

“I don’t mind. And your kids are never any trouble.”

“You’re sure you weren’t trapped into going along with this? I know how persuasive Dani can be when she’s on a mission.”

“Absolutely not. What are you and Ken up to this evening?”

“Ken has a business dinner, so I’m on my own.”

“Then come on over with Evan and Caitlyn. You and I can watch our own movies and drink some wine.”

“Really? You’re not too tired?”

“To watch a chick flick that Derek would rather eat worms than see?” Emily asked. “Never.” Besides, she’d heard the note of loneliness in Marcie’s voice and recognized it all too well. She’d learned to cope with Derek’s absences, but Marcie was completely at sea when Ken was out of the house. She’d tried to talk to her once about finding some interests aside from Ken and the kids, but Marcie always claimed she was perfectly content and had more than enough to keep herself occupied.

“Where is Derek, by the way? Won’t he object to all the commotion?”

“He’s still in Brazil. He won’t be home till late tomorrow.”

“Great!” Marcie said. “Gosh, that sounded awful. I
know you miss him. I meant it was great that we can have an evening to ourselves. I’ll bring the chocolate. I baked brownies today. A lot of brownies. I was bored.”

“Good luck for me,” Emily said with enthusiasm, though the further evidence of Marcie’s discontent struck her once more. “See you soon. You can come with us to the video store to pick out the movies.”

By the time she’d hung up, Emily already felt rejuvenated. Movies, wine and chocolate with a friend and her kids and their friends upstairs. What could be better than that? It would certainly be a huge improvement over the lonely evening she’d been anticipating, one in a long string of lonely evenings that had become the norm as Derek’s job kept him away for longer and longer periods of time. She might have adjusted to the stretches of being on her own with the kids, but that didn’t mean she liked it. And unlike Marcie, she knew that sooner or later she was going to have to do something about fixing it.

“What on earth are you doing?” Emily demanded a few weeks later when she found Josh in the backyard with a pair of hedge clippers attacking the bougainvillea that separated their yard from the Carters.

“Evan and me need a path,” he explained.

“Evan and I,” she corrected automatically.

He looked up at her, his expression blank. “Huh?”

Emily sighed. It was a wonder she kept her job, when she couldn’t even get her own kids to speak proper English. “Why do you and Evan need a path? You can walk around the block.”

“It’s too far. We’ve been trying to crawl through the hedge, but this stuff has thorns.”

“So you decided to chop it down without asking permission?”

“Dad said it was okay,” he replied, snipping away more of the thick hedge with its brilliant fuchsia flowers that thrived in the South Florida heat and humidity.

She doubted Derek had any idea what he’d agreed to. He’d probably been on the computer or absorbed in paperwork, which was how he spent the few days he was at home anymore. Whatever he’d said to Josh was more conversation than she and her husband had had lately. She was growing tired of feeling like a single parent most of the time, only to have her authority usurped the moment Derek made a rare appearance at home. It was something they needed to discuss, but she couldn’t even figure out how to manage that when he rarely came to bed before midnight and fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow. They hadn’t had a night out on their own for months now. If he’d been a different kind of man she’d have wondered if he was having an affair, but she knew his work was his only mistress. Accepting that didn’t seem to stop the increasing resentment she was feeling.

She took one more look at the gaping hole in the hedge and shook her head. On the bright side, it would take her less time to wander over to sit in Marcie’s pristine kitchen with a cup of her special-blend coffee and a slice of her homemade key lime pie. Lately that had become her refuge from the emptiness she felt every day when she got home from school and faced one more night on her own.

On her bad days, she envied Marcie. She was everything Emily was not. She thrived on being a housewife, a room-mother in her kids’ classrooms, an officer in the
PTA. Her spotless house could have been a designer showcase. There wasn’t a speck of dust that Emily had ever seen, much less a magazine out of place, a dirty glass in the sink or smelly socks or sneakers tossed on the floor. By comparison, the best that could be said of Emily’s home was that it looked lived in. The last time she’d baked, she’d burned the chocolate-chip cookies. Dirty clothes overflowed the baskets in the laundry room and dishes were left wherever anyone set them down until Emily rounded them up.

Back inside, she headed for Derek’s office and found him punching numbers into a calculator. When she spoke, his head snapped up and he muttered a curse at the interruption.

“Sorry,” she said. “I thought maybe we could talk.”

“I’m in the middle of something.”

“You’re always in the middle of something. Do I need to make an appointment to get on your calendar?” She couldn’t seem to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

It hadn’t always been like this. When she and Derek had met in college, she’d admired his drive and ambition. They’d spent long hours talking about his goal of owning his own company someday, not just some little mom-and-pop business, but a corporation. Her parents had been impressed with his single-minded determination, as well.

“He’ll go places,” her father had told her when she’d announced their engagement. “He’ll be a good provider.”

And he had been. He was vice president of sales at a multinational corporation based in Coral Gables. Their home off Old Cutler Road was in a neighborhood known for its lush landscaping, architectural diversity, upper-income families and good schools. She and their kids wanted for nothing.

If she longed for the kind of conversations they used to have or for the passion they’d once shared, maybe she was expecting too much. Maybe this was the way things were supposed to be after twelve years of marriage.

Then she thought of the affection still evident in her parents’ marriage after more than thirty years and knew she was wrong. She and Derek were missing the best years of their lives. They were occasional roommates, not partners.

“Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” she suggested impulsively, draping her arms around his neck from behind and leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. He smelled faintly of his favorite musky aftershave. “Just you and me. I’ll see if the kids can stay with the Carters.”

“I’m beat,” he said, linking his fingers through hers. “I don’t feel like going out. Invite the Carters over for a barbecue instead. We’ll throw some steaks or some salmon on the grill, hot dogs for the kids. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Emily barely managed to contain a sigh. It wasn’t the evening she had had in mind, but it was a concession, especially since she knew Derek wasn’t all that crazy about Ken Carter. Truthfully, she wasn’t either. She didn’t like the way he put down his wife at every turn, mocking her devotion to him and the kids and their home, a devotion he himself demanded. She and Derek had discussed their mutual dislike of the man, but agreed to put it aside in the interest of neighborly harmony. Still, more and more they were keeping the contact to a minimum. She had her friendship with Marcie and the kids had their bonds, but recently the families maintained a more careful distance.

Sometimes she worried that Marcie was aware of how
she and Derek felt, but it was the one subject they’d never discussed. She figured if Marcie had found some way to tolerate her husband’s demeaning behavior then it wasn’t Emily’s place to criticize him, any more than it was her place to question Marcie’s decision to build her entire life around her family, rather than building a separate identity of her own.

“If you’re so tired, are you sure you’re up to dealing with Ken tonight?” she asked Derek point-blank. He usually had little patience with him when he was in a great mood.

“I’ll just let him talk and tune him out,” Derek said. “Ken gives speeches. He doesn’t have conversations. That pretty much takes the pressure off me.”

She grinned at him. “Sometimes I wonder how Marcie can stand the man, but she seems blind to his faults.”

“Or maybe she’s learned to tune him out, too,” Derek suggested, a twinkle in his eye.

Emily chuckled. “You are so bad.”

“But you love me, anyway, right?” he said, turning to meet her gaze.

“Yeah, I do,” she said. Lost in the depths of his eyes, for a moment she remembered all the reasons why…his wicked sense of humor, the way he could make her feel with just a glance, the solidity of his devotion. “I really do. That’s why I wanted to spend the evening out with you.”

“Another time, I promise. When I get back from this next trip, things should slow down.”

She accepted the promise, because she had no choice. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Go call the Carters, then, but tell them we’ll need to make it an early evening, okay?”

“Sure,” she agreed, feigning enthusiasm. “I’ll see if they can come at six. Do you want time for a shower or should I just let you know when they get here?”

“I’ll run up in a little while and grab a shower and be down in time to start the grill,” he promised. “Then you can sit back and relax.”

Emily thought of the trip to the market she needed to make to pull off this impromptu gathering, the preparations required to stock the patio bar and have everything ready for the grill. She wasn’t Marcie, who could entertain at the drop of a hat. In her case, relaxation didn’t enter into it.

At least, though, she could look forward to some adult conversation, even if it wouldn’t necessarily be with her husband.

Marcie was on edge, though she couldn’t have said why. She was as comfortable at Emily’s as she was in her own house. Tonight, though, there was some kind of tension in the air that seemed worse than usual. Ken was trying too hard, as always, and Derek seemed to have less patience with him than ever. She’d even caught Emily rolling her eyes once behind Ken’s back. She’d almost called her on it, but she hadn’t wanted to start a discussion that might cause a real rift in their friendship.

There were times when she felt almost as competitive with Emily as Ken obviously did with Derek, and she felt petty for feeling that way. Despite everything Marcie did to create the perfect home, it was evident that her own kids preferred being over here. They didn’t seem to notice the clutter or care that the meals were more often takeout than homemade.

Right now they were all in the pool, shrieking at the
top of their lungs as they played some silly game they’d devised, mainly to torture the girls as near as she could tell. Ken had told them to pipe down twice now, but Derek and Emily seemed oblivious to the noise. She figured the shouts would last another two minutes before Ken blew a gasket and ordered Evan and Caitlyn out of the water and spoiled things for everyone.