Susan saw her through the pines and had one moment of panic. She turned to retrace her steps, but made herself stop. For over two weeks, she had been making this solitary walk along the narrow river and had not even glimpsed another human being. City instincts had taken over for a moment. She was alone and a long way from help. But she had spotted this woman before, last weekend. She had been at nearly the same place, doing the same thing. Throwing rocks into the river while a large golden dog splashed in and out, chasing them.
Instead of quietly
turning around, like she’d done the last time, she decided she would continue
on and with any luck, this woman wouldn’t even notice her, and she could get on
with her thinking. That was why she was here, wasn’t it? To
sort out her life?
But before she even took
two steps, the wet dog bounded across the river to her side. He cocked his head
with ears raised, then ran up the trail to her. He
barked once, then shook himself, splattering Susan
with cold river water.
“Alex! No!”
Susan raised up both hands and backed away from the wet dog, her plan to walk by unnoticed
shot to hell.
“I’m so sorry. He
usually has better manners than that,” the woman called from across the river.
Susan peeked around the
pine tree to the other side and met warm, friendly brown eyes and forced a
smile to her own face.
“It’s okay,” she said, glancing down at her
perfectly pressed jeans and spotless white athletic shoes, now splattered with
muddy drops of water. She stepped around the dog, intending to disappear down
the trail, but stopped. She had never been intentionally rude and she would not
start now. She looked back at the woman, searching her muddled brain for normal
conversation. “I’m actually surprised to find anyone out here. You’re the first
person I’ve seen in weeks.”
“I’m camping,” the woman
said from across the river. She had both hands tucked under her arms and she
pulled one free to brush at the hair hanging in her eyes. “I’m Shawn Weber.”
Susan lifted one hand in
greeting. “Susan . . .
“Well, nice to meet you,
Susan. Again, sorry about Alex there.” With that, she
patted her thigh and whistled. “Come on, Alex.”
With one quick look at
Susan, the dog plunged into the cold water, hopping across boulders to the
other side. This time, he shook cold water all over his owner.
“Thanks a lot,” she
heard the woman mutter. Susan felt an involuntary grin slash across her face as
she watched the woman attempt to avoid the wet dog. Without another word
between them, Susan watched as they walked back down the river, taking in the
woman’s worn jeans and hiking boots, so unlike her own attire.
She finally continued
with her walk, silently acknowledging that this was the first person she’d
spoken to in two weeks, unless you counted the token conversation with the
checkout girl at the grocery store down in the village. Well, she’d come up
here to be alone. And early May was the perfect time of year. Most of the other
cabin owners didn’t venture up into the mountains until Memorial Day.
She shoved her hands
into the pockets of her light jacket and walked on. She knew she couldn’t hide
up here for long. The troops would come looking for her soon. And she should
really call Lisa. Her daughter was the only one who knew where she was, but she
hadn’t called her since the day she left.
She wondered what they
were thinking. Especially Dave. He was probably out of
his mind.
“Good,” she said. “I
hope you’re worried sick.”
She sighed, the anxiety
over her uncertain future nearly choking her. She never thought this would be
happening to her. They had gossiped about others at the Country Club, but she
never would have thought she would end up like them.
But she wasn’t really
like them, she told herself. The Country Club setting was all so pretentious,
something she never would have called herself. But twenty years of playing the
game, anything could rub off on you. She let out a deep breath, depression
threatening to settle over her again, but she refused to think about Dave and .
. . the girl.
She suddenly turned and
retraced her steps along the trail. She slowed when she came to the spot where
the woman and dog had been. There was no sign of them. She walked on to the
trailhead where her car was parked. She admired it from the trail. A gift from Dave just this Christmas. Black,
sleek. Nothing she would have ever chosen for herself. And right now, it
represented everything she hated about her life.
“Hey.”
Susan jumped, her hand
going to her chest as the woman and dog materialized beside her.
“Sorry. I thought you
heard us.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I
was . . . deep in thought, apparently.” Susan gathered her composure and
tentatively reached out a hand to brush the dog’s fur. “Going on a walk?”
“I’m following Alex
around. We just drove up a little while ago and he’s got a lot of energy to
burn.” Then Shawn Weber motioned to the car. “Yours?”
Susan shrugged.
“Nice. But you don’t
look like you’re camping,” Shawn said, glancing at Susan’s white athletic shoes
and neatly pressed jeans and blouse. “You must belong to one of the cabins in
Grant Grove.”
Susan wondered if she
should divulge information like that, then told herself she was being silly. This
woman meant her no harm. “Yes. My husband . . . we have a cabin there. I’m living up here, temporarily,” she said. Until
she decided what to do with the rest of her life, she added silently.
“Living? Must be nice.” Shawn she reached down and patted Alex’s
shoulder. “I’m only lucky enough to snatch a few weekends here and there,” she
said.
“Are you from
“Yeah. I have a house there, but I love it up here in the mountains. I come up to camp
every chance I get.”
“Surely not alone,”
Susan said.
Shawn smiled. “Well,
there’s Alex.” She again reached down to pet the dog.
Susan shook her head. “I’ve
been in the city too long, I guess. I’m having a hard time staying alone at the
cabin.” She regretted her words as soon as she said them. This stranger had no
business knowing that. Susan looked at her, really looked at her for the first
time. Short dark hair that was lightly windblown, flannel shirt tucked into
faded jeans, scuffed hiking boots, hands shoved casually into pockets. She was
stereotyping perhaps, but a lesbian, nonetheless. Susan tucked her own hair
behind her ears, shoulder length and still styled for the Country Club, and she
quickly looked away.
Shawn shrugged, ignoring
Susan’s appraisal of her. “I prefer to be alone, actually,” she said. “It’s
kind of an escape from real life out here, isn’t it?”
“I suppose,” Susan said. Wasn’t that why she was here? To escape from her life?
“Well, I’ll let you get
going,” Shawn said. “I need to tire Alex out a bit more or he’ll keep me up all
night.” She patted her leg for Alex to follow her.
“Wait,” Susan called. “I
don’t suppose you would like to have dinner or something?” she asked,
surprising herself as much as this stranger.
“Dinner? Like tonight?”
“I’m sorry,” Susan said.
“I guess you came up here to be alone.” She pulled her eyes away. “It’s just
that I haven’t actually . . . talked to anyone in two weeks or so and I’m about
to go crazy, I guess,” she finished in a rush.
Shawn laughed, and Susan
gave an embarrassed smile.
“Okay. Dinner would be
good, as long as you don’t mind Alex,” Shawn said.
“No. Of course he’s
welcome. Do you know where the old lodge used to be?”
“It’s right off the main
road, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Turn there. I’m
two roads down that lane. Take a right on Nuthatch. It’s about four or five
cabins down,” she finished, her habit of talking with
her hands getting the best of her and she shoved them into the pockets of her
jacket to still their motion.
“Okay. About . . . six?”
Shawn asked.
“Yes, that would be
good,” Susan said. She watched Shawn and Alex walk away, back toward the water
and she walked to her car, thankful she had gone into town yesterday and
stocked up on groceries. She frowned. What in the world could she and Shawn
Weber possibly talk about? Well, it didn’t matter. Any
conversation would be better than her forced solitude of the last few weeks.
She had skipped town so
suddenly, she hadn’t realized she would miss people. She laughed quietly. She
was having a woman to dinner, a stranger and a lesbian, most likely, and she
was as excited as she’d been when she and Dave had their first dinner party.
“No,” she murmured,
turning her smile into a frown. She would not think about Dave. She had spent
two weeks thinking about Dave and . . . the blonde. She shook her head, instead
planning the meal. Steak and baked potato were safe. She would serve a
vegetable, too, something safe like green beans. Maybe sauté some of the
mushrooms she had picked up. Oh, and a good bottle of wine. She smiled. For the
first time in weeks, she wouldn’t be spending the evening alone.
Shawn and Alex hopped
rocks across the river and hiked back to the tent. She had been coming out for
the last three weekends. April had been cold, a mix of snow and rain some days
as winter still hung on. But this first weekend in May, the sun had dominated,
and she had escaped early and headed up the pass to
She wondered why she
hadn’t declined Susan’s dinner invitation. Shawn had seen her on the trail last
weekend. Both days, she had silenced Alex and let the woman pass by, but today
Alex had slipped away before she could stop him. Susan had seemed so anxious
for company that Shawn hadn’t had the heart to say no. And it might be nice to
make a new friend. It wasn’t like she had a lot of them. A
handful, at best.
“What do you think,
Alex?” She patted his head then reached for the dog bone that he patiently
waited for. She relaxed in the lawn chair, staring into the giant trees, seeing
nothing, just listening to the sounds of the forest. For some reason, her
mother’s image flashed across her mind. She was startled. She had not thought
of her in a very long time. She closed her eyes, trying to recall some happy
moment from her childhood, but the memories were elusive. There was always
pain, crying. No laughter.
Even now, as an adult, joyous occasions were few and far between. She
didn’t think she was an unhappy person. She would not label herself that way. She
was . . . content. Her solitary life with Alex was all that she desired. But
she wondered if ten, twenty years from now, she would again try to recall happy
moments in her life? Would there be any? Or would she always carry this pain
with her?
Alex nudged her hand and
whined, his intelligent eyes staring into hers. She smiled and gently rubbed
his head. No, she would have happy memories. Like the first day she brought
Alex home and he’d kept her awake that night, whimpering until she’d finally
let him into her bed. He had snuggled up beside her. Not much had changed. He
was still a bed hog.
She laughed quietly. “You
were such a baby,” she told him. He cocked his head to the side, listening. “Don’t
act like you understand me.” In reply, he laid a big paw on her leg. “Want to
walk?” His ears perked up and he practically danced around her until she got
out of her chair. Yes, she would have happy memories.
She tidied up the cabin,
even bringing out the vacuum to run across the already clean rug in the living
room and stacking the magazines she had bought yesterday. She seasoned the
steaks and got everything ready, including emptying the charcoal from the grill
and putting in fresh.
By five, she had
everything ready to go and she took a magazine out to the deck and made herself
relax. She flipped through the pages, seeing nothing, again wondering what she
and Shawn Weber would talk about. She finally put the magazine down and glanced
around the deck, finding solace in the familiar trees that surrounded the cabin.
She watched birds flitter high up in the branches and closed her eyes, trying
to relax.
By five-thirty, she
found herself listening for the sound of a car and she realized that if Shawn
Weber were not coming to dinner tonight, she might very well be on the verge of
a breakdown.
At last, she spotted a
black truck creeping along the road. She got up and hurried to the back deck to
put a match to the charcoal, then walked down the drive and waited.
“You came,” Susan said,
uttering the first thing that came into her mind when Shawn stopped.
“Did you think I’d get
lost?” Shawn asked through the open window. Alex climbed over her lap when she
opened her door, tail wagging as he sniffed Susan, then turned to inspect the cabin.
“No, I just . . . never
mind,” she said. Shawn had changed into black jeans and a sweater and Susan
sighed. She had been so busy getting everything ready, she had forgotten to change herself. Mother and Ruth would have had a fit had
they known she was entertaining this way! She dismissed her thoughts and waved
at the cabin with her hands. “What do you think?”
“Beautiful,” Shawn said.
“I love the stone work.”
They walked to the porch
and Susan held the door opened. “I’ll show you around, then we can sit on the deck in the back. It’s still warm enough.”
They walked inside and Shawn’s mouth dropped.
“This is
by far my favorite room,” Susan said. The front of the cabin was made up of
nearly all windows, save the front door. The vaulted ceiling, supported by
natural wood beams, eventually gave way to skylights. Nearly as many windows
adorned one wall, while a stone fireplace shared space with a built-in
bookshelf on the other.
“Jesus,” Shawn muttered,
bending her head back to gape at the skylights.
“I know. It’s a bit
much,” Susan said. “But my husband . . .well, let’s
just say that he hated to be outdone.” She led the way down a short hall, Shawn’s hiking boots clicking on the hardwood floors. “There’re
just two bedrooms,” she explained.
Shawn stuck her head in
the guest room, then followed Susan into the master
bedroom. Each room, including the living room, was impeccably tidy. It was hard
for her to imagine that someone had been living here for two weeks straight. Her own house, after just one day, looked more lived in than
this. Hands on her hips, she turned back to Susan. “Nice,” she said, hoping it
sounded sincere.
Susan nodded, not being
fooled for a minute. Shawn hated it. “Let’s sit outside,” she said and led the
way through the rest of the house.
The kitchen was Shawn’s
favorite room. Large and spacious, two skylights overhead brought the forest
inside. It, at least, looked lived in. A bar separated the kitchen from the
dining room and four stools were shoved neatly underneath.
“I like this. It’s
comfortable,” she said of the kitchen.
“Yes. I’ve always
enjoyed cooking. So much less of a chore up here,” Susan said.
Shawn caught just a
glimpse of pain in her eyes. Her husband, no doubt. Either
she was going through a divorce or he had died and she was grieving. Her guess
was the divorce, but she said nothing.
Susan motioned to one of
the chairs, then took the other. “I have steak,” she
said. “I hope that’s okay.”
Shawn smiled. “Steak
would be wonderful. I usually get by on cheese and crackers or just sandwiches.
It’ll be nice to have a real meal up here.”
Susan nodded, relieved. One less thing for her to worry about. But she felt
uncomfortable. She had forgotten how to entertain. She was searching her mind
for conversation when Shawn stood.
“You want a beer? I’ve
got some iced down in the truck,” she said.
Susan brought a nervous
hand to her throat. “God, I forgot to offer you something to drink,” she
murmured. “I’m sorry. I’m out of practice, I’m afraid.” She stood herself, her
hands talking for her. “Sit. I’ve got wine. Is that okay?”
Shawn laughed at Susan’s
nervousness. “Let’s save the wine for later. I’ll bring you a beer,” she said
easily.
Susan watched her bound
effortlessly down the steps and disappear around the
cabin, dog right at her heels. She tried to remember the last time she had a
beer and couldn’t. Dave had kept some at the house, but she had not actually
considered drinking any. And the country club, Lord! The ladies didn’t ever
order beer!
“Fuck the country club,”
she murmured.
Shawn came back with two
bottles, still coated with crushed ice and Susan watched a piece melt and slide
down the bottle and her mouth watered. Beer’s good, she thought.
Shawn twisted off the
top and handed it to Susan, then relaxed again in the chair. She could tell by
the way Susan held the bottle that this was a new experience for her and Shawn
wondered again what she was doing at this woman’s house. Out of the corner of
her eye she watched Susan tip the bottle and drink. She was surprised by the
sound of pleasure that came from her.
“Oh, God, that’s good,”
Susan said. “No wonder men drink it all the time.”
Shawn laughed. “You
know, they allow women to buy it now.”
Susan grinned, too. “How
long have you been coming out here?”
“Only
the last couple of years, to this area anyway. I camp often in the
summer. When a place gets too crowded, I’ll search for someplace new.”
Susan waited for the
question she knew would be next.
“What about you? You
don’t look the outdoorsy type, really,” Shawn said.
“No. I don’t suppose I
do,” Susan agreed. “I don’t know what type I am,” she continued and the words
seem to fall from her. “I used to be a mother, but Lisa grew up and is now in
college.” She paused only briefly before continuing. “And I used to be a wife,
but David apparently likes twenty-year-old blondes now.”
The breeze brought the
sounds of birds as they foraged for food before dusk and the sweet smell of the
forest, and they both looked above them as a squirrel chewed a pine cone and
dropped bits around their chairs.
“I’m sorry,” Susan
finally said. “That just . . . came out.”
“Recent?” Shawn asked.
Susan nodded. “That’s
why I’m up here.” She tried to smile. “I couldn’t stay there and this seemed
the logical place to come to . . . to sort things out.”
Shawn leaned forward and
frowned. “You haven’t talked this out with anyone? With him?”
“No. I stopped by Lisa’s
dorm and told her, that’s all.”
“How
long ago?” Shawn asked.
“Two weeks yesterday,”
Susan said.
Shawn leaned back,
thinking it was none of her business, but since when had that stopped her? “Listen,
it’s not any of my business, but I don’t think it’s very healthy to keep
something like that bottled up. I mean, you probably need to discuss this with
someone . . . a family member, if not a professional.”
Susan laughed bitterly. How
dare this . . . woman . . . offer her advice?
“And you’re an expert on
failed marriages?” Susan’s hands waved to make her point. “Forgive me, but I
was stereotyping, and I doubt this has ever happened to you,” she said quickly.
Shawn tried not to be
offended by Susan’s remark. “Your stereotype was correct, but that doesn’t mean
I’m unfamiliar with failed relationships. I see it every day,” she said. “At the Fresno Women’s Center.”
“You work there? The shelter?”
“Women’s shelter is such
a negative term. It’s much more than a shelter, but it is that. It’s an
educational center, most of all.”
“Are you a counselor?”
Susan asked.
“Well, sort of, I guess.
I’m not actually on the payroll. I volunteer there. I help out wherever is
needed; the crisis line, finding jobs, finding housing, and yes, counseling. I
try, at least,” she said.
“You think I need
counseling?”
“This isn’t any of my
business, really,” Shawn said. “I’m sorry I said anything,” she apologized.
“I’m asking for your
opinion,” Susan said.
Shawn leaned back and
crossed her legs. “It appears you’re running away, maybe hiding up here,” she
said gently. “It’s not healthy. It won’t make the problem go away. It’s just
going to escalate.”
Susan cleared her throat
and looked away. “My husband and I haven’t had sex in over a year,” she said
quietly. “And do you know when it occurred to me that we hadn’t had sex? Not
until a couple of days ago,” she continued. “I hadn’t even missed it.” She
turned to Shawn. “Isn’t that strange?”
Shawn didn’t say
anything, and Susan continued.
“I was supposed to be in
Shawn shook her head.
“This isn’t what it
looks like.” She tried to mimic his shocked tone, but her voice cracked. Susan
tipped the bottle and drained the beer, then laughed lightly. “I told him it
looked like he was fucking a teenager. And this girl took her hand off of her
mouth long enough to tell me that she was twenty now.” Susan set the empty
bottle on the deck and sighed. “That’s how I found out my husband was having an
affair.”
Shawn started to speak
but Susan stopped her.
“Please don’t say you’re
sorry,” Susan said. “I couldn’t bear it,” she whispered.
“Okay.” Shawn fished out a crumpled pack of
cigarettes and shoved one between her lips. “How long have you been married?” She
watched Susan watching her as she struck the match and she inhaled once before
offering the cigarette to Susan.
Susan stared at the cigarette for a moment, then reached for it. What the hell? She had smoked before,
when she had first gotten married, but Dave had put a stop to that. She inhaled
and the smoke seared her lungs, but she smiled.
“Twenty years,” she said as she blew smoke
through her lips.
“Long damn time,” Shawn
murmured.
“Yes. A very long time,”
Susan nodded. She rolled her head slowly toward Shawn. “Got any more beer?”
“Sure.” Shawn got up but,
Susan stopped her.
“I’m sorry. I’m being a
terrible hostess.” Susan stood, too. “I haven’t offered you anything to drink
and you brought your own beer and now I’m asking for one . . .”
Shawn laughed, and eased
Susan back into her chair. “Relax, will you?”
Shawn disappeared again
around the corner and Susan got up to check on the charcoal. It was nearly
ready, so she went to fetch their steaks. She was just putting the second one
on when Shawn came back with fresh beer.
They both
settled back into their chairs, stared quietly out into the now
darkening forest, and sipped their beer.
“You don’t smoke, do
you?” Shawn finally asked.
“No,” Susan laughed. “I
don’t drink beer, either,” she said as she tipped the cold bottle to her lips.
“So, you’ve been up here
two weeks, have you decided anything?”
“I’ve decided that I
don’t miss my former life,” Susan said after only a moment’s hesitation. “I
mean, I don’t miss David in the least, but that could just be because I’m still
so angry. I was hurt at first, of course. Betrayed . . . who wouldn’t be? But
now I’m just angry, I think.” Susan gripped the bottle tighter, but continued. “It’s
funny that it took something like this to make me realize how unhappy I’ve
been.” Susan turned to Shawn, about to apologize for the conversation, but Shawn
stopped her.
“I’m a good listener,”
Shawn offered.
Susan smiled, silently
thanking her. She needed this, she realized. Two weeks of keeping these
thoughts bottled up inside of her had taken its toll
and Susan was thankful for this stranger’s company tonight.
Susan cleared her throat
before speaking. “I think that I have just been going through the motions of
marriage for twenty years. I got pregnant immediately. I was a new wife and
then a mother and that was that,” she said. “That was all. I took care of the
house, took care of Lisa, and in my spare time, hung out at the country club
with the other wives, including Ruth - she’s my sister - and Mother,” Susan
said. She leaned forward now, arms resting casually on her thighs. “I mean,
that was all I knew so it seemed perfectly normal to me,” she said. “I just . .
. never evolved into anything,” she admitted quietly. “I was a wife and mother.”
“A lot of people are,”
Shawn said. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Oh, I know,” Susan said.
“It’s just that . . . there should be more,” she whispered. “I’m thirty-nine
years old and feel that life has just passed me by, and I don’t have a whole
lot to show for it. I mean, I have a wonderful daughter, extremely bright, but
I’m talking about me,” she said, clutching her fist and pressing it to her
breast. “I gave up my youth, I gave up college to
become a wife. And then suddenly I was a mother and that was enough for
eighteen years. But when Lisa left home and started college, suddenly I wasn’t
a mother anymore. I was just a wife. And that’s when I realized that nineteen
years had gone by and David and I were suddenly thrown together again, alone
and practically strangers and we didn’t know how to handle it. Or I didn’t,”
she clarified.
“Did you have a good marriage?”
Shawn asked.
Susan shrugged. “It
wasn’t a bad marriage,” she said. “We didn’t fight, if that’s what you mean. And
I never wanted for anything. There just wasn’t much passion involved. And I
don’t think David and I were really partners and friends in our marriage. I was
the wife who took care of the house and Lisa and he handled everything else,”
she finished sadly.
Shawn stood to tend to
the steaks and Susan didn’t stop her. She was very near tears, and she took the
time to gather herself. She had no business crying in front of this stranger.
“I guess you hadn’t
suspected an affair,” Shawn said from behind her.
Susan shook her head. “I
should have, I suppose. I think back now . . . his style of dress changed,
business dinners where there used to be none, late hours. And of course, our
own sex life had dwindled to nothing.” She turned away when Shawn sat down
again. “I think I was secretly thankful that he wasn’t
wanting sex.” She looked back at Shawn. “Isn’t that awful?”
“No. But then, I’ve never
been married. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like.”
“Surely you’ve had some
kind of long term relationship,” Susan said. “You’re what? Early
thirties?”
“Thirty-three and no,
there’s been none,” she said.
Susan watched her for a
moment then looked away. “I won’t pry.”
“What does your daughter
say about it all?” Shawn asked, dismissing Susan’s comment.
“She wasn’t surprised,”
Susan said, “which surprised the hell out of me. Lisa told me that I shouldn’t
blame myself, that it wasn’t my fault. That was probably the best thing that
she could have said.”
“She’s right, you know. He
can blame you and he may. But still, we all make our own decisions and
rationalize them however we feel we need to. If he needs to lay blame for the
decision he made, you’re the logical choice,” Shawn said. “I know you’ve heard
this before: It takes two to make a relationship work, but it just takes one to
destroy it when one becomes disinterested.”
Susan frowned and nodded.
“But I sometimes think that I was the one who became disinterested,” she said
quietly. When Shawn started to speak, Susan stopped her. “Let’s eat,” she said.
“The food is not nearly enough to pay you for the therapy session I seem to be
getting.”
“I’m sorry,” Shawn said.
“No, don’t,” Susan said,
rising. “You were right. I needed to talk. I’m just sorry that it’s turned into
this,” she said, waving her hands, “when all I intended was a casual dinner.”
“I don’t mind,” Shawn
assured her. “And I’ve seen enough women hide their feelings to know that it is
not at all healthy.”
Shawn held the plate
while Susan lifted the steaks from the grill. Susan met Shawn’s eyes and
smiled.
“Ruth would shit a brick
if she knew the invited guest was helping with dinner.”
“Everything
proper and by the book?”
“Very,” Susan nodded. “Country
club rules can be a little rigid, you know.”
Shawn laughed. “I
wouldn’t know.” She stopped Alex at the kitchen door when he would have
followed them inside.
“I told you he was
invited, too,” Susan said.
“He’ll beg,” Shawn
warned as Susan opened the door again to let him in.
“And then I’ll give him
part of my steak,” she said.
They made their plates
buffet style and Susan went back for the wine. “If you ever meet Ruth or
Mother, don’t you dare tell them what a terrible hostess I was tonight.”
Shawn grinned. “I’m not
used to having a hostess.” Shawn cut into her steak, then stopped. “Are you close to them?”
“Ruth
and Mother?”
Shawn nodded and groaned
as she took her first bite of steak. “Good,” she murmured.
“We pretend to be close,”
Susan said, cutting into her own steak. “Ruth is ten years older than I am, so
we don’t have a lot in common.” She paused with the fork to her mouth. “Actually,
I guess we do have a lot in common. We both live in the same community, same
friends, same country club. Same
mother.” Then she grinned. “Ruth has two perfect children. Perfect
angels and perfectly boring,” she said. “And I have Lisa.”
“And she’s what?”
“A free spirit,” Susan
said. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Lisa has a mind of her own and I’m
not afraid to let her use it.”
“She’s just now in
college?” Shawn asked. She reached for the wine, chasing down the steak.
“Second
year. She’ll be twenty,” Susan said. “And she has no idea what she wants
to be, but I’m just thankful she’s in school.” Susan drank her own wine and
nodded when Shawn went to refill it. “I don’t want her to make the same mistake
I did and marry right away and not finish school.”
“Why did you get married?
Were you pregnant?” Shawn asked.
Susan stared, amazed at
her directness. For perfect strangers, they were sharing quite a bit. Well,
Susan was sharing. Shawn had divulged nothing about her own life.
When she didn’t answer,
Shawn looked up with a mouthful of potato and grinned.
“What? Too personal?”
“I got pregnant on our
honeymoon, I suppose.” Susan trimmed off a piece of her steak and offered it to
Alex, who Shawn had been patiently ignoring. Susan dismissed Shawn’s objection
with a wave of her hand and then offered him a piece of bread.
“You’ve done it now,”
Shawn warned. “He’ll never leave you alone.” To prove her point, he laid one
large paw on Susan’s thigh and whined. Their eyes met and Susan’s dared Shawn
to speak. She didn’t.
Susan decided she would
not be satisfied until Shawn shared something about her life, even if it meant
prying a little. After another piece of bread to Alex, she said casually, “You
said you volunteer at the women’s center. What do you do . . . you know, for a
living?”
Shawn tilted her head
slightly and thought about ignoring her question, but Susan must feel nearly
stripped of her layers of protection at all she’d revealed tonight. She lifted
one corner of her mouth in a smile.
“I don’t do anything,
really,” she said.
Susan laughed. “You’re
independently wealthy, huh?”
Shawn shrugged. “Pretty much.”
Susan stared. “I was
joking.”
Shawn shrugged again. She
always had a difficult time with this question and it was why she normally
avoided it. She met Susan’s eyes and they told her that she was not getting off
without an explanation. She lifted an eyebrow, Susan raised both of hers, and
they both grinned and reached for their wine.
“My father left me a
very profitable business when he died,” Shawn said. “Then my mother left me a
rather large sum when she died.”
“I’m sorry,” Susan said
automatically.
“No. It was a long time
ago,” Shawn said, dismissing her apology. “They had divorced when I was twelve,
so I wasn’t really close to my father.”
“But to lose your
mother, too,” Susan said, shaking her head. “Was it recently?”
Shawn shook her head,
this conversation fast approaching the off limits sign. “It was just a couple
of years after him,” she said quietly. “I was nineteen.”
Susan watched her, then decided that she had nosed enough. The subject was
still obviously painful for Shawn.
“I’m sorry, Shawn. I
didn’t mean to pry,” she said.
Shawn met her eyes for a
moment and knew in an instant that if she ever wanted to talk to someone about
it, Susan would be the one. But after five years of therapy, she felt like she
had talked the subject to death. It wasn’t as if it was still a part of her.
“I don’t think about it
much anymore,” Shawn said. “At least, I try not to.”
“I’m sorry,” Susan said
immediately.
“No, don’t.” Shawn
lightly rested her palm on Susan’s arm in reassurance. “I didn’t mean it like
that. It’s just . . . a very long story,” she finally said. “Maybe I’ll share
it with you sometime.” Then she smiled, trying to lighten their mood. “If I
ever run into you again, that is.”
Susan smiled, too. “I’ve
enjoyed your company.”
“Well, after two weeks,
anyone’s would have done,” Shawn teased.
Susan laughed. “Now I
didn’t mean it like that and you know it.”
Shawn insisted on
helping with the dishes, then, by silent consent, they again sat on the deck
and finished the wine. Shawn lit two cigarettes and handed one to Susan, who
took it without thinking. They sat together quietly and Susan thought that this
must be one of those comfortable silences that she had heard about and never
experienced. She glanced over at Shawn who was holding wineglass and cigarette
in one hand and rubbing Alex’s ear with the other. When Shawn looked up, Susan
smiled and looked away again, content for the first time in two weeks.
“I better go,” Shawn
said finally.
Susan nodded, not
wanting her to go, but knowing that she would.
“Thanks again for the
meal,” Shawn said.
They stood facing each
other for a moment, then broke out into identical smiles. Susan followed Shawn
around the cabin to her truck and petted Alex on his back before he hopped in
the front.
“Thank you for . . .
listening to me talk,” Susan said.
Shawn nodded. “Dinner
was well worth the price,” she said with a grin.
“Well, maybe we’ll run
into each other sometime,” Susan said. She wanted to invite Shawn over again,
maybe tomorrow, maybe next weekend, but she felt foolish. They were two women
who had absolutely nothing in common. Why in the world would Shawn Weber want
to see her again?
“Yeah. Probably,” Shawn said. She got inside and rolled down the window and said what
she had been thinking about all evening. “Susan, don’t hide up here and think
everything will just go away,” Shawn said softly. “If you need to talk to a
professional, I can recommend a good one.”
Susan blushed and looked
away. “Thanks. I’m not going to hide, I’m just sort of gathering myself,” she
assured her. “Talking it out with you has helped, too.”
Shawn saw that Susan was
uncomfortable and wished she had not pressed. It really wasn’t any of her
business, anyway.
“Well, goodnight then. Thanks
again.” She waved once as Susan stood staring after her.
Shawn tossed the rest of
her coffee into the fire and mentally planned her day as Alex waited patiently
for their walk. It was warm. Maybe she would pack a lunch and hike up into the mountains
today. She could always go by and ask Susan if she wanted to go, but Shawn
shook her head. She liked Susan well enough, she supposed, but they had little
in common. Susan just looked so . . . married. And
middle-aged, although Shawn would never have called thirty-nine middle-aged
before. Maybe marriage does that to you. Well, it didn’t matter. Susan
had a lot of baggage to sort through and Shawn really wasn’t the one to help
her with a failed marriage. As Susan had said, what in the world would she know
about that?
**************************
Susan washed the lone
coffee cup, then proceeded to vacuum the already clean
living room before she realized what she was doing. Her obsession was getting
the best of her. She stared out through the windows towards the forest. Was
Shawn Weber right? Was she hiding? Perhaps. She turned
off the vacuum and let her shoulders sag just a little. Was she ready to face
the rest of her life?
With determination, she
walked out of the cabin and to her car, not stopping until she retrieved her
phone from under the seat. She had shoved it there two weeks ago, not wanting
to talk to anyone.
She leaned back in the
seat and clutched the phone to her. She should call Lisa, at least. She punched
out the numbers, then glanced at her watch. Barely nine. Lisa was probably still sound asleep and her
whispered hello made Susan want to slam down the phone.
“It’s Mom,” she said.
“Mom? Are you all right?” Lisa asked, suddenly sounding wide awake.
“Of course,” she said
quickly. Then she apologized. “I’m sorry I’m calling so early.” She could hear
the covers rustling and she smiled, picturing Lisa sitting with her knees drawn
to her chest.
“They’re driving me
crazy. Aunt Ruth wanted to file a missing persons thing with the police and . . . ”
“Good
Lord! What did you tell them?”
“I didn’t want to tell them you were
at the cabin . . . I knew they would be up there immediately . . . so I told
them you were staying in a hotel to sort things out,” Lisa explained.
Susan let out a sigh of relief. “Good
girl,” she said. “Have you talked to . . . your father?”
“Yes,” Lisa spat. “Do you know he
had the nerve to deny everything? Then when I told him you had already called
me, he got pissed off at you for telling me. The nerve!”
“Don’t I know,” Susan muttered. “Listen,
Lisa, he’s still your father,” Susan started, trying to find the proper words
to say without sounding too insincere.
“Don’t start, Mom. I know he’s my
father. I love him because he’s my father, but I still have the right to be
angry with him,” she said.
Susan nodded, thinking Lisa was
sounding all grown up suddenly. “Can you hold them off another week?”
“You better call him,” Lisa said. “Or at least Aunt Ruth. She’s afraid you’ve been kidnapped
or something.”
“Okay, but I’m not quite ready for
company yet.”
“And take your phone inside,” Lisa
said. After a pause, she asked, “Mom, are you okay?”
“I’m . . . better,” she said. She
thought of Shawn’s words, but denied them again. “I’m not really hiding,” she
said, as much to Lisa as to herself. “Just trying to decide what I’m going to
do.”
“We’ve been worried sick! Have you
lost your mind?” Ruth demanded.
“I just needed some time alone,”
Susan muttered weakly.
“Well, you’ve had time. Now you need
to get back here and pick up the pieces and talk this out with Dave. I’ve never
seen a man more distraught,” Ruth said.
“Distraught! What? Is his young
blonde not enough to console him?”
“Oh, Susan, don’t be catty,” Ruth
said. “Men go through these things. What do we know about it?”
“Good Lord! This isn’t the Dark
Ages!”
“So he had an indiscretion? Don’t
you think you’ve punished him enough?”
“An indiscretion?” Susan yelled over the phone. “I caught him in my bed with a twenty-year-old blonde and you call it an
indiscretion?”
“Just calm down,” Ruth said.
“I will not calm down,” Susan said
between clinched teeth. “I’m angry, Ruth. Angry! I’ve been lied to, cheated on
and basically made to look the fool. I will not calm down.”
“So what? You’re
going to hide out in some hotel now? Come to your senses! You’ve got a twenty-year
marriage on the line!”
“Fuck the marriage,” she muttered
and had the pleasure of hearing Ruth gasp as she hung up.
She tossed the phone on the sofa and
leaned back, her fingers massaging her throbbing temples. Ruth was something
else. As if Susan would go running back and pretend nothing had happened? Well,
Ruth would, obviously, but David could kiss her ass!
She got out a bitter laugh, although
not quite as bitter as last week, and poured a glass of wine. She would have it
on the deck and try to relax. Then maybe a walk. And something quick for dinner. It was too pretty an evening
to be inside cooking. Then she would relax on the sofa with the novel she had
started Sunday.
“Life is good,” she muttered and she
smiled at her blatant attempt at humoring herself.
But by Friday, she really was feeling better. She had
given Lisa permission to tell everyone that she was at the cabin and that she
would now be answering her phone should anyone have the desire to talk to her. That
did not include Dave.
She finished her customary glass of