Undertow (22 page)

“And I got ripped to shreds.”

“Look, I told you that guy was a mistake. And Evan was right there just waiting to help you pick up the pieces. You fled the scene.”

“It was your idea!” I cried. Then I looked down. “Anyway, I think I made the right decision going to Atlanta with you. And now that we’ve eaten, how about one more shot!” I figured that would shut her up.

“You’re on!” She leaned heavily on my arm as we walked back to the bar.

“Here’s to being open,” I said, lifting the little glass.

By the time I reached the door of our cabin that night, the world was rocking like a sailboat, and I felt like I was going to lose my dinner. Then I looked down and saw I had lost something. Where was my shoe?

I walked back down the wobbly path, but half-way there I realized my mistake. It was too dark, and I couldn’t see a thing. Luckily, I ran into Bill. He was surprised to see me roaming around in the dark, and he convinced me to go back to my room. Everything was fuzzy, and I rested my head on his shoulder, holding his waist to keep from falling as we walked back. Holding onto him was unexpectedly warm and comfortable. He didn’t speak, and as we made our way up the path, I thought about what Suzanne had said.

For a long time, I hadn’t liked Bill very much. I didn’t think he was right for Meg, and I didn’t like that all he cared about was money and those developments of his. He had a sweet dad and good friends, but he was completely consumed with conquering the coast. Then I’d gotten to know him a little better, and I actually liked him. As a friend, of course.

But tonight, just for a moment, and
strictly
for comparison purposes—
nothing more
—I wondered how my life would be different if I had met Bill first…

I tilted my heavy head back on his shoulder and studied his profile as we walked to my cabin. He was funny and thoughtful, and while he was completely focused on his goals, he did care about his family. And this trip was proof he liked to pamper the ones he loved. How might things have changed if we’d wound up together?

It didn’t matter. I shook my head down. We were friends, and I wasn’t going to let my tequila-soaked brain or Suzanne’s imagination spoil that.

At my door, we shook hands, and I said something to him. I can’t remember what it was, but it made him grin. Then I went inside and fell asleep thinking about everything that had happened as the room slowly turned. One thing was for sure, I was never acting like an American tourist in Mexico again.

This morning I’m paying for our girls’ night. The sun is so bright, I had to put on my sunglasses to pack, and when the valet came for our luggage, I had to put on a hat to keep from crawling back inside the dark hut. One of my shoes was on the doorstep with a note.

Found it. Your friend, Bill
.

I still can’t remember what I said to him last night. And I don’t know why Bill would have my shoe. I picked it up and stuffed it in my bag.

March 15, 19--

Me and my big mouth.

I knew the minute I said it back in September that I should never have advised Meg to fake an “accidental” pregnancy. I was angry at Bill for not taking her calls, and it was more an offhand comment than a serious suggestion.

Meg had just been sad for so long. Then after the Mexico trip, things had gotten better. Bill was being really great about spending time with her. He would cut us off at 5 o’clock every day so he could go home and be with his little family. Meg had stopped complaining, and I was actually getting to paint more.

Now things had gone south at an incredible rate of speed, and I felt horribly responsible.

Meg was having twins, and Bill was furious. I thought if she just went with it, pretended it truly was an accident, she might get away with it. I didn’t know they’d had a fight and she’d practically threatened him. This time he knew he’d been tricked, and he was madder than I’d ever seen him. I was almost a little afraid of him.

Weeks have passed since she told him, and the situation has only gotten worse. Bill never goes home, and I feel like I have to do something to make this right. Meg turned to me, and I advised her to do the one thing that could potentially end their marriage—or at least drive a permanent wedge between them.

Our no-overtime policy has ended, and we’re back to working as long and as hard as we want. Bill leaves for dinner, I guess he’s eating out these days, and then he comes back after we all leave and sleeps in his office. I don’t know how many nights he’s been doing it.

One morning I stopped off at the coffee shop on the way in and grabbed him a cup. I thought maybe if I focused on the bright side and helped him put things in perspective that would help. Maybe if I reminded him how much he loved her, he wouldn’t feel so betrayed.

Maybe there was some way to absolve myself of this guilt.

He seemed less angry after our coffee chat, but he still won’t go home. Tonight after working late, I decided it was time to own up. Pain gripped my insides thinking of what I was going to tell him, but I stuck my head in his office anyway. He was sitting on the couch looking at a book.

“Staying late again?” I asked, the smallest tremble in my voice.

He didn’t look up. “There’s always plenty to do around here.”

“Can’t it wait til tomorrow? You should call it a night and go home.”

“After while.” He continued reading, and I studied his light brown hair, messy and still a little highlighted from our trip. His skin tanned.

I took a deep breath and went over to sit beside him on the couch. Then he looked at me. “What’s on your mind?”

I wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead I focused on my nervous hands. “I have to tell you something, and it’s going to make you mad. But I’m hoping it’ll help you forgive Meg.”

“What is it?” His tone was sharp, and my stomach dropped.

“I told her to do it,” I said quietly, closing my eyes.

“What?”

My chest clenched, but I kept going. “The whole fake accident, the pregnancy. It was my idea. I told her to do it.”

For several long seconds the room was completely silent. I couldn’t breathe. My heart felt like it had stopped beating.

Then he stood and walked across the room. “Are all women selfish liars or is it just the ones I know?”

Tears sprang to my eyes, but I blinked them quickly away. He had to hear what I was saying. He had to forgive her. “I’m so sorry, Bill. I should never have interfered.”

“No,” he snapped. “You shouldn’t have.”

“You have every reason to be as mad as you are, but can you at least forgive her now?”

He was quiet. For several long moments I waited, studying his back.

“You know my mom left my dad when I was a little kid,” he finally said. “She wanted to chase her dream of being a singer. It didn’t matter who she hurt, she was going to do it.”

I didn’t see the connection, but I didn’t say anything.

“You told Meg to lie to me, but she didn’t have to do it,” he continued. “She could have thought of someone else for a change.”

“I’m sure I influenced her decision,” I argued. “She always listens to me.”

He shrugged. “Well, thanks for telling me. I already knew you weren’t on my side.”

Tears flooded my eyes now. “Oh, Bill. That’s not fair.”

“No?” He turned and the smile on his face was no longer friendly. It was cold, and I wanted to die from how badly it hurt. All the progress we’d made as friends was gone.

“Meg and I had that conversation months ago. That day you didn’t take her call,” I said, touching my eyes. “So much has changed since then. I understand more, and I
am
on your side. I’m so, so sorry.”

He turned back to the window, and my gaze dropped. Tears fell onto my cheeks. But I wasn’t sure why I was crying now. If it was because Bill still wasn’t going home or if it was because he didn’t seem likely to forgive Meg.

Or if it was because now I’d hurt him, too.

“She’s not a child, Lex,” he said, still looking out the window at the dark waters of the canal. “At some point she’s got to be responsible for her actions. And I can’t be worried about what you two are talking about all the time.”

“I promise you,” I said, looking up at him. “I will never open my big mouth again. It won’t happen.”

I watched him inhale deeply, then he turned back to me. “Go home. You’re tired.”

“So are you.” I tried one last time. “Please go home to Meg.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because it hurts me to see you like this.” I stood, wanting to approach him, but I didn’t. “I think of you as my friend now, too.”

“Right.” His brow relaxed. “The shoe.”

I blinked a few times, then I shook my head. “I meant to ask you what that was about.”

“Some other time.” He walked back to the couch and sat, picking up the book again. “You were being very sweet.”

I sat on the couch facing him. “So you’ll forgive me, but you won’t forgive her?”

“You had that conversation with Meg the day you left the office and came back so mad at me. Right?”

I nodded, also remembering what he’d said at the elevator. The day I realized he did care—as much about his family as about being manipulated. I’d sworn that day to butt out.

“That was ages ago, Lex,” he continued. “How many more times did you tell her to lie to me?”

My voice was quiet. “Just that once.”

“Well, Meg and I were having that conversation for the hundredth time in Mexico. I told her I’d change my schedule. I told her I’d be home more. The Mexico trip itself was part of me trying to make things better for her, but none of it mattered. She did what she wanted to do anyway.”

“But it did matter!” I said it, but my argument felt weak. “Maybe by then it was too late for her to change things.”

“Maybe.”

“So you’re not going back?”

“Back to what? To being another one of her pretty playthings?” His jaw clenched and he looked at the book. “My only purpose is to give her what she wants. But I have no feelings, and what I say doesn’t matter.”

My chest felt heavy, and I was only making him angrier. “I’d better go,” I said. “I just wanted tell you what happened. And say I’m sorry.”

He nodded, not looking up. “Thanks.”

March 7, 19--

Sitting here writing this, I remember the day it happened as if each moment were written in a book in my head, and I could go back and flip through it and pinpoint every place I went wrong, each time I could’ve made a different choice, a choice that would’ve changed the end of the story.

But now it’s too late. Now everything is spoiled.

A year had passed since my conversation with Bill that night in his office. Meg had the twins, and I thought those guys were making it through their long separation. The babies were gorgeous, and Gigi said they were the exact image of Meg as an infant. They both had her golden hair and blue eyes. Just perfect.

Bill was at the hospital, and he seemed glad. He was very sweet with them, but I could remember a time when he was more affectionate to Meg. It hurt me to see them still so distant.

Gigi was in heaven. She had come back from Sedona to help get them over the early days at home, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Meg was glad Will was in school. I smiled thinking of how frantic she’d been his first day of kindergarten. That fateful day I’d opened my big mouth. She probably counted the minutes until the bus arrived to take him away in the mornings now.

As for work, we were charging through the last few buildings. That particular Sunday finished off a week-long push to complete Phase VIII. We’d barely left the office except to eat, shower, and sleep. Everyone was exhausted.

It was a fun project, though. We’d gone with a Mexican theme for Phase VIII that was based heavily on Tango Sol, and I’d pulled out all the pictures I’d taken on the trip for ideas. Remembering how much fun we’d had made it a labor of love, and I found a funny shot of Meg and me in sombreros from the day we went souvenir shopping. I had it framed to give to her.

I was finishing up the lobby sketches when Bill breezed into my office and started shutting the blinds and turning off the computers. He was dressed in a short-sleeve button up shirt and khaki shorts with Sperrys, and he was happier than I’d seen him in a while.

“You’re very perky for how hard we’ve been working.” I looked up from the table where I was adding the color to my sketches. “And why are you shutting down my office?”

“Everyone’s taking a break,” he said. “We all need some fresh air and relaxation, and I was thinking it would be a perfect day to take the boat out for a few hours.”

“Are Meg and the babies coming?” I smiled, thinking I’d like to see them.

He shook his head. “She took them into Newhope. It’s just you and me, Skipper.”

I wrinkled my nose. “You know I hate boats.”

“We need to work on that.”

“Eh… come see what you think about this first,” I said. “I’m a little concerned it might be too colorful. I mean, it was colorful there. I have the pictures to prove it. But I don’t want it to be tacky here.”