Page 52 of My Ex-Best Friend's Wedding

?I’m lost in imaginings of what my life might have been and only come back to the present when Spencer takes my hand. Irealize he’s in the middle of filling Jake in on our morning at the Fort Raleigh National Historic Site, his enthusiasm for the waterside theater whereThe Lost Colonyis staged every summer. “I told Lauren I’d be glad to come back to see a performance and anything else we don’t get to this trip.” He doesn’t add that it’s clear I’m trying to cram everything in because I have no intention of coming back this summer. Or possibly ever. The Outer Banks might stretch for over a hundred miles, but the full-time population is far too small to avoid anyone for long. I held my breath through a good part of our lunch, afraid my mother might walk in.

For what might be the millionth time I wonder what she’s doing right now. Is she going about her daily life, baking and delivering, waiting for me to get over my shock? Or is she racked by guilt for lying and keeping my father from me? I don’t understand how she could possibly rationalize what she’s done.

“After lunch we went to Jockey’s Ridge,” Spencer continues. “Good God, that’s one hell of a sand dune. Then we went to the Wright Brothers monument.” I listen with only half an ear while he relays the park ranger’s explanation of how and why Kitty Hawk was chosen, the hardships the brothers encountered, and their refusal to give up their quest to prove that man could not only glide but fly in machines that were heavier than air.

He squeezes my hand and I add, “I always forget how phenomenal the view from the top of the memorial is.”

“And tomorrow?” Jake asks.

“I figured we’d go north. Maybe stroll around Duck a bit then head up to Corolla to see the lighthouse and town center. We might take one of the wild-horse tours late in the afternoon.”

“I’ve heard they’re an impressive sight,” Jake says. “Descendants of the Spanish mustangs that were originally brought to the New World as long ago as the 1500s.”

Just like that I’m six years old, holding my mother’s hand, the breeze off the water riffling our hair as we watch the herd ofhorses gallop up the beach with their heads tossing and their manes flying. I feel the smile of memory on my lips. It fades as I acknowledge that my mother is a part of every important memory. She wasn’t just the center of my universe. She was my universe. The thrum of anger vibrates through me. Why did we spend my whole life living like two orphans whom fate had turned its back on?

“So do they still run wild?” Spencer asks, once again pulling me back.

“Yes.” I try to refocus on the conversation. “But they started dying off when civilization got too close. Now they’re in a protected habitat where they can roam freely without being in danger.”

“And Thursday?” Jake asks.

“Then Thursday I thought we might go fishing either offshore or inshore so Spencer can get a taste of being on the water here.” I finish my margarita. “I promised him I’d bait his hook.”

“Good thing, too.” Spencer is not embarrassed at his inexperience with a rod and reel. “The closest I’ve ever come to fishing is ordering sushi.”

Jake smiles softly. I sense something is on his mind, but I don’t know him well enough to guess what it is.

“Would you like to come with us?”

“No. Thanks, though.”

“Do you hate baiting hooks, too?” Spencer asks.

“No.” Jake grins. “I grew up fishing with my dad. Used to spend time on the James River. I learned to bait a hook when I was about five.”

Just that easily he refers to the grandfather I never met and who didn’t know I existed. My heart actually hurts.

“I’ve got appointments on Thursday and a couple of conference calls. But if you’re free, I’d like to take everyone to dinner. Dee told me that Blue Point up in Duck is one of your favorite restaurants.” He’s watching my face as he offers up options. “Orif you’d like to stay closer to home we could go to 1587.” He names an upscale restaurant in the Tranquil House Inn on the Manteo waterfront.

“I think Blue Point would be great for our last night,” I say.

“Good.” Jake smiles. “I thought I might invite Bree and Clay.”

I’m careful not to squirm at the suggestion. The sight of Clay and the blonde coming down the stairs right out of the shower is still fresh in my mind. “Sure. The more, the merrier, right?”

We’ve finished our main courses and are contemplating dessert when Spencer asks Jake if he ever gets to New York.

“About three or four times a year.”

I blink. “You come to New York?”

“Yes. I have investment partners there.”

“We could have walked right by each other and never even known it.” It’s almost a whisper.

He nods and I see him swallow. I’m not the only one mourning for the time that’s been lost and what might have been. But once again my sorrow is infused with anger. I could have been part of a family, not learning how to live without one.

The bill comes. Despite Spencer’s protests Jake insists on paying. We’re working out details for Thursday night and waiting for the receipt when Jake says, “So what are you going to do about your mother?”

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