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Summer Rental
  • Текст добавлен: 8 октября 2016, 17:12

Текст книги "Summer Rental"


Автор книги: Mary Kay Andrews



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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

“Julia!” Ellis said. “You promised.”

Julia shrugged. “I lied. Now, come on, Dorie. Out with it.”

Dorie’s face paled. She swept all the cards on the table into a pile, and busied herself rebuilding the deck. “I’m that obvious?” she asked, looking from Julia to Ellis.

“No poker face at all,” Ellis said, taking a seat on Dorie’s other side. “But you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“It’s Stephen, isn’t it?” Julia broke in, ignoring Ellis’s glare.

“Oh God,” Dorie whispered. “Yes. Stephen…” A single tear slid down her face. She bit her lip. “Stephen and I … God. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t even make myself say it.”

Julia filled a glass with the last of the pinot grigio and slid it in front of Dorie. “Here. Drink up.”

“No,” Dorie gently pushed the glass away. “I can do this. I can. I have to. Starting tonight.” She took a deep breath, and suddenly the words came pouring out.

“I lied to you all. I did. And I’m sorry. The truth is, Stephen finished his thesis weeks ago. He didn’t come to the beach with me … because … we’re getting a divorce. And he moved out two weeks ago. And now I’ve got to sell the house. I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t told anybody. Especially Willa. Oh God, what will Willa say? And my mom? This will absolutely kill her. How am I going to tell her? And the school? I know one of us has to quit Our Lady of Angels. We can’t both work there. Not now. But I don’t know what to do. I can’t think. Not even about the simplest stuff. I can’t even decide what kind of cereal to eat for breakfast, or what to wear in the morning. It’s like my brain is frozen. And I shouldn’t have come to the beach. I should have stayed home and figured everything out, but I wanted to come. I wanted to get in my car and run away. Just keep driving. All I could think about was, ‘I am going to the beach. And I am not going to deal with this. When I’m at the beach, none of this will matter.’ So, I came.”

The torrent of words stopped as suddenly as it had started. Dorie’s shoulders slumped. She wiped ineffectively at the tears that were now streaming down her face. “Oh, God. What a mess.”

“Oh, Dorie,” Ellis said, throwing her arms around her friend. “I am so sorry.” She was crying too. “Oh, sweetie, I don’t know what to say.” She felt utterly helpless in the face of Dorie’s pain.

“I know, right?” Dorie said, her voice shaky. “Mr. and Mrs. Perfect are getting a divorce. How screwed up is this?”

Julia took a long sip of Dorie’s untouched glass of wine. “I knew it. As soon as I laid eyes on you at the airport, I knew it was something like this. I kept hoping it wasn’t, you know, this. But I just knew in my heart that it was.”

“You’re a witch,” Dorie said, dabbing at her eyes with a paper napkin. “You always were.”

“Not really,” Julia said. “You’re just so incredibly easy to read. You haven’t called him, he hasn’t called you. You’ve been weepy and mopey. And you can’t play cards for shit.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorie said, sniffing. “I hate being Debbie Downer.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ellis asked.

“No. I mean, yeah, I can talk about it. If you guys don’t mind the popcorn getting all soggy. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Let me guess,” Julia said. “I bet Mr. Perfect has himself a girlfriend. Am I right?”

“Julia,” Ellis said, through gritted teeth. “Before this night is out, I am going to strangle you. I really am.”

Dorie’s laugh was shaky. “Let her alone, Ellis. Maybe she’s not as witchy as I thought. You’re only half right, Julia. Stephen does have somebody else. But it’s not a girl. It’s a guy.”

“What?” Ellis cried.

“No way!” Julia said. “You’re telling us Stephen is gay?”

Dorie was crying again, and the words were streaming as fast as the tears. “I’m such an idiot. How could I not have known? I mean, I knew something was wrong, but I never dreamed it was this. Easter break, we were supposed to go to Destin with another couple from school, and a day before we were supposed to leave, Stephen announced that he wasn’t going. He said he didn’t care if I went, in fact, he wanted me to go, but he said he’d had a rough semester, and he just wanted to go off hiking, by himself, up in the mountains. I told myself it was because he doesn’t really like my girlfriend’s husband, Brad. I mean, Brad can be hard to take sometimes. He’s a marathoner, and he never shuts up about running and his times and all that. So I let Stephen go off hiking. And when he got back, I thought he’d be in a better mood. But he wasn’t. He got moodier. And that’s not Stephen. Not normally. Normally, he is Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky. Which is why I fell for him. And we had fights. Not a lot, and not about anything important, but you know, the whole two years we dated, we never, ever fought.”

Julia guffawed. “Well, that should have been a warning signal right there. Booker and I fight every day of our lives.”

“But we didn’t,” Dorie said. “My mom and my dad, you know, before they got divorced, they fought like cats and dogs. Willa and Nash and I, we were so glad when they finally split up. You never saw kids so happy about a divorce. And I told myself when I got married, I would never fight like they did. Because if two people are right for each other, and they love each other, they don’t have to fight, you know?”

“My parents used to fight now and then,” Julia said thoughtfully. “Not like Booker and me, but yeah, they’d get into it every once in a while. But then Daddy would buy Mama flowers and a piece of jewelry, or she’d make his favorite cannoli, and they’d make up like nothing happened. And they were married for like, forty years.”

Ellis thought about her own parents. Lawrence Sullivan had been a patient, quiet man who doted on Ellis’s mother. She couldn’t remember him ever disagreeing with her mother, at least not in front of her and Baylor. Fighting would not have been his style.

“Your daddy and mama were pretty special,” Ellis told Julia. “Like Ward and June Cleaver.”

“Or Doris Day and Rock Hudson,” Dorie said sadly. “Only Rock Hudson turned out to be gay. Just like Stephen.”

Dorie looked up and saw Julia watching her. She sighed. “Now you’re gonna ask me how the sex was, right?”

Julia grinned. “I was scheming a way to get you away from Ellis, ’cuz I knew Ellis would never let me ask.”

“Who says?” Ellis retorted. “I’m not that big a prude. Am I? I mean, I know it’s totally none of our business, but still. We are your best friends.…”

“C’mon, pretty please?” Julia pleaded. “You don’t have to give me all the hot and steamy details. Just big picture, you know?”

Dorie rolled her eyes. “The sex was fine,” she said, exasperated. “It was never even an issue. I got married at thirty-three, for God’s sake! And while a lady doesn’t like to get a reputation, I think you know I wasn’t exactly celibate before I met Stephen. You think I would have married him if we weren’t good together in bed?”

Julia considered this. “So … there was nothing kinky?”

“No,” Dorie snapped. “And I didn’t catch him dressing up in my panties, or hanging out at the men’s room at the park, or trolling the squares in downtown Savannah after midnight. I’m telling you, and you can believe me or not, but up until two months ago, I thought I had a marriage that was rock solid.”

She blinked furiously at the tears welling up in her eyes. “I loved Stephen. And I believed he loved me. And now, it’s all gone to crap.”

“Don’t cry any more,” Julia begged. “I’m sorry I brought it up. It’s Ellis’s fault for letting me, right? Let’s all be pissed off at Ellis. And Stephen, too. May he rot in gay hell.”

15

Ellis went out to the kitchen and got the box of Fudgsicles and a roll of paper towels, which she solemnly handed around to Dorie and Julia.

Dorie licked the ice cream bar in silence, while Julia attacked hers, biting off the top and demolishing it in minutes. Ellis licked and chewed and wiped frantically at the ice cream dripping down onto her hands.

“Better?” she asked Dorie.

“A little,” Dorie said, sniffling.

“There’s not enough chocolate in the world to fix this kind of thing,” Julia said. “Dorie, Ellis is going to kill me for asking, but I can’t help it. How … I mean … how did you find out about Stephen?”

“Jesus, Julia!” Ellis said. “Would you please let her alone?”

“It’s all right, Ellis,” Dorie said. “It’s like a car wreck. You know it’s terrible, but you just can’t help looking, right? I didn’t catch him with another man, if that’s what you’re wondering. It was just a bunch of little things. I thought he was stressed about getting his master’s, so I didn’t pay much attention. And then, he quit his soccer team. You guys met Stephen, right? He lived and died for soccer, not just coaching the girls at school, but playing. But he just quit the team. And the thing is, he didn’t tell me he’d quit. He’d leave the house, and I just assumed he was going to practice, but it turns out he wasn’t.”

“He was going to meet his boyfriend?” Julia asked.

“No,” Dorie said. “He swears he wasn’t. He says now he just sort of drove around. He’d go to the mall and sit in his car, or drive out to Tybee and back.”

“Why’d he quit soccer?” Ellis asked gently.

Dorie’s face turned pink. “The guy … his name is Matt? He’s on the team too. He’s always been out. But not in a swishy, flamer kind of way. Stephen said…” She gulped and looked down at her hands. She’d twisted the paper ice cream wrapper into a cylinder, and now she was shredding it. “He said he realized months ago that he was, I guess, attracted to Matt. And it really scared him. And disgusted him.”

“Oh, poor Dorie,” Ellis said with a sigh.

“Stephen swears he never meant for anything to happen,” Dorie went on. “That’s why he quit the team. He thought if he didn’t see Matt, didn’t talk to him, it would be all right.”

“But it wasn’t, was it?” Julia asked.

“As soon as school was out in May, Stephen flew out to Omaha to be with his dad. Henry had a stroke while Stephen was there. He’s alive, but he’s on a ventilator, and now, they’ve told the family it’s just a matter of time.”

“God. On top of everything else,” Julia muttered. “So, what happened?”

“When he came back home, he wouldn’t talk about his dad,” Dorie said. “He started drinking, you know, not a lot, but more than usual. Scotch, too. He never really drank hard liquor before. Neither of us did. And then, one night, right before the Fourth of July, he just … he just…” She faltered, and started crying again. This time Julia tore off a paper towel from the roll and handed it to Dorie.

“Blow,” she ordered. Dorie nodded and did as she was told. Ellis took a paper towel and dabbed at her own eyes. “Gotta remember to add Kleenex to the grocery list this week,” she said absent-mindedly.

Dorie took another deep breath and launched back into her story. “He just went for a drive, and he didn’t come back. Not that night. I was going crazy! He wouldn’t answer his cell phone, and I called everybody we knew asking if they’d seen him. I even called the emergency rooms at Saint Joe’s and Memorial to see if he’d been in an accident.”

“You must have been terrified,” Ellis said. “I don’t even know what I’d have done if I were you.”

“I’d have been so pissed,” Julia said.

“I was terrified, and then when he came home and he was all right, I was really pissed. We had the biggest fight ever. I was standing in the kitchen, in my nightgown, and, you guys, I was screaming. I mean screaming at him. And Stephen, he just broke down crying. And that’s when he told me. That he’d gone to a bar, and Matt was there, and he was drinking, and … he just … went home with Matt. And he didn’t call me because he didn’t want to lie to me.”

Dorie took another deep breath. Her eyes were red from crying, and her nose was running. Ellis and Julia were crying too.

“So that’s it?” Ellis asked. “He’s gay, and you’re getting divorced? End of story?”

“End of story,” Dorie agreed. “End of Mr. and Mrs. Perfect. End of every-friggin’-thing.”

“Is that what you want? Have you thought about going to counseling?” Ellis asked.

“Counseling!” Julia hooted. “She just told you the man is gay. What good is marriage counseling when it comes to something like that?”

“I don’t know,” Ellis said helplessly. “Maybe, maybe Stephen really isn’t totally gay. It was only one time, right? Maybe this is just … like a phase. Dorie said he’s been under a lot of stress, with finishing his thesis, and his dad being so sick. Maybe if they got counseling, if they could talk things out with a therapist … I just think there has to be another way.”

“Well, that’s just dumb,” Julia said, shaking her head. “What, you think this is like that column in your mom’s Ladies’ Home Journal—CAN THIS MARRIAGE BE SAVED?”

“I hate to say it, but Julia’s right,” Dorie said. “Don’t you see? I’m screwed. Stephen says he loves me, and I believe him, I really do. But he’s not in love with me. There’s somebody else. How do I compete with that? If it were a woman, I’d do something. Cut my hair, dye it, lose weight, get a boob job.…”

“A boob job?” Julia exclaimed, slapping the tabletop for emphasis. “You’re a friggin’ 32D, Dorie. You’ve worn a D cup since, like, kindergarten.” It was only a slight exaggeration. “You’re so skinny everywhere else, if you got any bigger, you couldn’t stand upright.”

“I know,” Ellis chimed in. “Remember, Dorie? In seventh grade, when we were just getting our training bras, you were already in an underwire.”

“Double-D Dunaway,” Julia crowed. “Nope, the only way you compete with this Matt guy, as far as I can see, is if you manage to grow a penis.”

Dorie started to giggle. Ellis started too. In a moment, the three of them were all laughing so hard, tears were running down their faces. They laughed until they were crying and then laughing again.

“You guys, hush,” Dorie said, waving her hands and pointing towards the ceiling. “You’ll wake up Madison.”

“What’s she gonna do?” Julia demanded. “Call the cops on us?”

“I’m so sorry, Dorie,” Ellis said, pressing her hand to her own chest. “It’s not funny, not really.”

“It’s a friggin’ tragedy,” Julia agreed, snorting pinot out her nose.

That got them all started laughing again—the giggle fits from hell.

Until Dorie’s green eyes widened. “Oh no,” she said, gasping for air between guffaws.

“What?” Julia demanded.

“I think,” Dorie said, haltingly. “I think I just peed my pants.”

Which sent Ellis into peals of merry laughter. “You guys, do you remember Patti Shaffhausen from second grade at Blessed Sacrament? Miss Raterman’s class? She used to wet her pants, like, every other day. And because I sat in back of her, Miss Raterman would make me go to the girls’ bathroom and help her get cleaned up. Remember, we used to call her Pee-Pants Patti?”

“Oh my God,” Dorie said. “Pee-Pants Patti Shaffhausen! You won’t believe this, but Patti Shaffhausen is my dentist. She and her husband live on the same street in Ardsley Park as Willa. And he’s a urologist.”

“Stop!” Julia begged. Now it was her turn to clutch at her chest. “Stop, or I’m gonna pee my pants.”

“Guys,” Dorie said. “It’s not just the laughing. I pee my pants—just a little—like, every day. I’m pregnant, guys.”

16

“That’s not funny, Dorie,” Julia said.

“But it’s true.”

Ellis and Julia both chose that moment to take large gulps of wine.

“Is this what you call a pregnant pause?” Dorie said finally, her grin lopsided.

“When?” Ellis asked, when she could catch her breath. “I mean, when are you due?”

“I’m three months pregnant. The baby’s due in February. I’m hoping for Valentine’s Day.” Dorie turned to Julia, her green eyes flashing. “And before you ask, yes, I do intend to keep the baby. I don’t know what else is going to happen in my life, but the one thing I do know is that I am going to have this baby.”

Julia bristled. “I wasn’t going to suggest…”

“Good,” Dorie said, her voice becoming uncharacteristically firm. “I know you don’t go to church anymore, Julia, but I do. I’m not one of those crazy bomb-flinging right-to-lifers, but for me, I just don’t believe in abortion. End of discussion!”

“I can’t believe you still buy into all that Catholic voodoo,” Julia muttered.

“I do,” Dorie said. “Well, most of it anyway. I guess I’m gonna have to figure out the divorce part, though.”

Ellis flung her arms around Dorie. “Oh my God! A baby. This is amazing! I can’t believe it. We’re gonna have a baby, y’all.” She looked over Dorie’s head at Julia, who sat back in her chair, arms folded across her chest. “She’s pregnant! Bet you didn’t see that coming, Witch Julia.”

“Nope,” Julia agreed. “I totally didn’t see that one coming.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t guess, Julia,” Dorie said. “I’ve been running into the bathroom every five minutes, it feels like, and feeding my face every minute of the day. I can hardly stay awake, I’m so sleepy all the time.”

“But you’ve been drinking wine with the rest of us,” Julia said accusingly.

“Nope,” Dorie laughed. “You guys have been so busy sucking down the wine and margaritas, you didn’t even notice me dumping my glass in the sink. I haven’t had a drink since the dipstick turned blue back in June.”

“What does Stephen think about all this?” Julia asked.

Dorie gazed down at her belly. Her voice, when she answered, was very small. “He doesn’t know yet. You guys are the first ones I’ve told.”

“I don’t understand,” Ellis said finally. “You found out you’re pregnant in June. Way before you and Stephen split up. Why didn’t you tell him about the baby when you found out?”

“I just … didn’t,” Dorie said. “We weren’t trying to get pregnant. Not at all. This was all my fault. A slipup. We’d talked about a baby, and he said he wanted kids, eventually. But somehow, when I found out about the baby, right after Stephen’s dad had a stroke, it just seemed like a terrible time to announce that I was pregnant. I knew he’d be worried about money, and I just didn’t want to pile on another responsibility.”

“For God’s sake, Dorie,” Julia said. “That is so like you. How can this be all your fault? Unless you impregnated yourself with a turkey baster when Stephen wasn’t looking. You’re the one who’s got to carry this baby for nine months, along with everything else, and you’re worried about poor old Stephen having too much responsibility. He doesn’t deserve you, Dorie. He never did.”

Dorie pressed her fingertips over her eyelids. “A month ago, I would have said you were all wrong about Stephen. Now? I just don’t know what to think. One minute I hate his guts. I want to scream and rant and rave and kick him in the nuts and grab him and shake the crap out of him and ask him why on earth he ever married me if he thought there was even a remote possibility he was gay. I mean, how could he? How dare he? And then, I start thinking how painful all this must be for Stephen.”

“Go with the kicking-in-the-nuts reaction,” Julia said dryly.

“Damn,” Dorie said, standing up abruptly. “Now I’ve gotta pee again. You see what I’m like? I’m a mess. Guess I’ll run upstairs and change my shorts while I’m at it. I don’t want you guys to start calling me Pee-Pants Dorie.”

When Dorie was out of earshot, Julia poured herself another glass of wine, and after a moment’s hesitation, topped off Ellis’s glass too.

Ellis took a sip of the wine. She felt inexplicable tears welling up. Were they for what her best friend was facing, or were they, selfishly, for herself—unmarried and still childless at thirty-five, a state she’d never envisioned for herself?

Her brother Baylor was five years older, and as a child, Ellis had always longed for a baby sister to play with—even after her mother patiently explained that Ellis was “the caboose,” as she called her. She’d been a funny little girl, the kind who still played with dolls when all her other friends had long since abandoned them. She’d always baby-sat as a teenager, and still did, occasionally, for friends back in Philly. All their children called her “Aunt Ellie.” Was that all she’d ever be, Aunt Ellie?

“Wow,” Ellis whispered, hoping Julia would assume her tears were for Dorie instead of herself. “I don’t believe this. A baby.”

“Me neither,” Julia said. “What are we gonna do?”

“We’re going to throw her a fabulous baby shower,” Ellis declared. “Can’t you just be happy for her? You heard Dorie. She wants this baby. She’ll make a wonderful mother.”

“A single mom,” Julia said glumly. “I don’t believe she ever envisioned doing it all by herself. And speaking of mothers, I do not want to be around when she drops this little bomb on her mom.”

Ellis winced. “Ow. Yeah. I’m sure old Phyllis will have plenty to say on this topic.”

“She’ll figure out a way to make this all Dorie’s fault,” Julia predicted. “You wait and see. She’ll blame Dorie for turning Stephen queer.”

“Julia!” Ellis laughed ruefully. But she couldn’t argue with what her friend said, because it was too true. Phyllis Dunaway had a talent for finding fault with her youngest daughter. She might have been a big-deal college English professor, but as a wife and mother, Dr. Dunaway was, to Ellis’s way of thinking, a big dud. For years, she’d bullied Dorie’s dad, Gabe, a sweet and slightly nebbishy college professor whose specialty was Beowulf. It had been Phyllis’s idea to name all three Dunaway children after American writers—Willa for Willa Cather, Nash for Ogden Nash, and Dorie, the baby, who had been burdened with the unwieldy and unlikely name of Eudora, for Eudora Welty.

“What about Gabe?” Julia asked. “Does Dorie ever see her dad these days?”

Dorie and the girls had just started seventh grade at OLA when the Dunaways announced they were splitting up. Not long after, Gabe Dunaway moved an hour away, to Statesboro, to take a job teaching English at the college there.

Ellis shrugged. “I think he sends birthday cards and Christmas gifts. But he remarried a couple years ago, and you know how her mom is. Dorie doesn’t dare mention his name, even after all these years. She couldn’t even invite him to the wedding, since Phyllis was paying for it.”

“What an evil shrew,” Julia said. “It’s amazing to me that Dorie turned out as well-adjusted as she did, especially considering all those years of verbal abuse Phyllis subjected her to. God, my mother hated her. Did you know, that time when we were sophomores and Phyllis threw Dorie out of the house because she found out Dorie was sneaking around dating that boy who got kicked out of Savannah High for selling weed, my mom actually tried to talk my dad into asking Phyllis to let Dorie live with us?”

“No!” Ellis said. “That’s so funny. When that happened, I begged my mom to adopt Dorie. I was so clueless, I didn’t understand you couldn’t adopt somebody whose parents were still living. God bless Mama, she actually got up the nerve to call Phyllis and suggest that Dorie wasn’t really the tramp of the town. Phyllis never spoke to my mom again. Mama and I have had our own moments, God knows, but I’ll never forget how proud of her I was when she stuck up for Dorie that time.”

“If Phyllis had been my mother, I think I would have taken an axe to her years ago,” Julia said. “Like it was Dorie’s fault that she was so pretty. I think Phyllis hated the fact that Dorie looked like her dad’s side of the family. Remember how she used to call Dorie ‘her pretty little flake’?”

“And Dorie wasn’t dumb,” Ellis agreed. “Maybe she didn’t have a 4.0 GPA like Willa, but she made decent grades.”

“Didn’t matter,” Julia said. “Willa was always the smart, successful one according to Phyllis. So Willa went to law school and made partner when she was only in her thirties? Whoopie-shit. And now she’s not even practicing law. And what about good old Nash, the only son, the golden boy who could never do wrong? What’s he doing these days? I’m almost afraid to ask Dorie.”

“Nash,” said Ellis succinctly, “is still Nash. Still writing poetry, although as far as I know, he’s never had a word published. Last I heard, he was living rent-free in Dorie’s grandma’s old house on Forty-eighth Street. And you’ll love this part: he drives a big ol’ ’70s hearse, and he gives these ghost tours of haunted houses downtown.”

“You’re kidding me,” Julia said. “For real?”

Ellis slapped her right hand over her heart. “As God is my witness. Last time I was home, I saw him handing out flyers on Bay Street. You should have seen him,” she said, giggling. “He was wearing this zip-front jumpsuit, and an army surplus gas mask, and he had what looked like an old vacuum cleaner canister strapped on his back. He gave me his business card. At first I thought maybe he was hitting on me, then I figured out he just wanted me to cough up eighty-five dollars for his stinkin’ tour. Can you believe it? Julia, he’s even got a website.”

“Ghostdusters.com,” Dorie said, padding barefoot into the dining room. She’d changed into a pair of drawstring cotton pajama pants and a Hello Kitty tank top, her hair caught in a ponytail on top of her head. She looked all of thirteen. “Could you die? All that fancy education, and he’s squatting in Granny’s house and hustling tourists with these ridiculous stories about talking tombstones in Colonial Cemetery and headless duels in Monterey Square.”

Ellis blushed guiltily. “It sounds like it could be a pretty successful business, though.”

“Yeah, maybe if he wanted to work at it, it could be, but you know Nash. Work really is a four-letter word as far as he’s concerned. Hey, is anybody else hungry? I’m thinking about fixing myself a grilled cheese sandwich.”

“We just ate four hours ago,” Julia reminded her. “Not to mention popcorn and Fudgsicles.”

“I’m eating for two now,” Dorie said. “At least now that you guys know, I can stop sneaking around and binging on cereal and scrambled eggs when you’re not looking.”

“If I ate like that I’d blow up like a balloon,” Ellis said. “I still can’t believe you’re three months pregnant, walking around looking like a stick.”

Dorie pulled up her tank top and pooched out her tummy. “A stick? Look at this gut! There’s a baby in there, for real.” She turned around and wiggled her butt at her friends. “And look at this ass. It’s like, two axe handles wide, as my daddy would say.”

Julia gave Dorie’s butt an affectionate slap. “Who are you kidding? You’ve still got the tiniest hiney on the planet, Dorie. For now anyway. Come on. I’ll fix you your grilled cheese, little mama.”

The three of them trooped into the kitchen. Dorie and Ellis perched at the kitchen table while Julia melted butter in a frying pan and assembled Dorie’s sandwich.

When the sandwich was golden brown, with melted cheddar cheese oozing out the sides, Julia flipped it onto a plate and slid it in front of Dorie, along with a glass of milk.

“Oh, bliss,” Dorie said, taking a bite and rolling her eyes. “Stephen always says the best sandwich in the world is the one somebody else makes for you.”

“About Stephen,” Ellis said slowly. “Dorie, you really are going to have to tell him about the baby. Have you even talked to him since he moved out?”

Dorie chewed slowly. She took another bite of grilled cheese and then another. When the sandwich was half eaten, she pushed the plate away.

“I can’t,” she said. “I can’t talk to him. I can’t hear his voice. I can’t see him. Not yet. He calls, but I don’t answer. I know he drives past the house. I’ve seen his car cruise past half a dozen times. He doesn’t have the balls to stop and ring the doorbell. Which is good, ’cuz I don’t think I could answer the door if he did.”

“Do you even know where he’s living?” Julia asked.

“At Matt’s, I suppose,” Dorie said. “He’s got a big old Victorian in Midtown. We went to a party there last fall.”

“You’re going to have to talk to Stephen, Dorie, and sooner would be better than later. You know what a small town Savannah is,” Julia said. “You’re gonna start showing sooner or later. And you know how people talk. You need to figure out the next step.”

“I can’t,” Dorie wailed. “I don’t know what to say to him. Anway, I don’t know what the next step is. I don’t know how to get a divorce.”

“I do,” Ellis said lightly. “It’s not that hard, really. Look at me, I got mine at twenty-three. If this is really what you want, Dorie, I’ll give you my lawyer’s name. He was one of Baylor’s fraternity brothers. He’s still in Savannah, I know, because he sends me a Christmas card every year. Guess he thinks that now I’m in my thirties, I’ll start throwing some divorce work his way.”

Dorie tore off a chunk of the grilled cheese sandwich and nibbled at it. “I never, ever thought I would be thinking about getting a divorce. After my parents split up, I swore when I fell in love, it would be forever. You guys know how many men I went with over the years. I never even considered marrying any of them. Not until I met Stephen. That’s why I waited so long to say yes. I wanted to be sure.” She propped her feet up on the kitchen table. “The only thing I know for sure now is that nothing is for sure. And look at me—I’m barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. And oh yeah, my baby daddy has a boyfriend.” She sniffed loudly.

“How could you know?” Ellis said sympathetically. “I mean, you guys lived together for a year. We all thought it was the real deal.”

“Yeah, he fooled even me,” Julia agreed. “And you know I never liked any other guy you dated before. My gaydar is usually pretty accurate.” She glanced over at Dorie. “I really am sorry, honey. Do you want to talk about something else?”

“It’s okay,” Dorie said, trying to smile through her tears. “Don’t mind me. I’m just hormonal. I cry all the time. I cried this morning when I realized we were out of Frosted Flakes.”

“I’ll get another box,” Julia said. “Promise.”

“Are you sure you still feel like talking?” Ellis asked. “It’s getting late, and I know you must be emotionally exhausted.”

“No, I’m all right,” Dorie said, brushing bread crumbs from her tank top. “It feels good to finally talk to somebody about all this. I’ve had all these secrets bottled up inside me. It just felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t tell somebody about the baby.”

“You didn’t want to tell Willa?” Ellis asked. “I mean, she’s your only sister.”


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