Page 53 of My Ex-Best Friend's Wedding

“Do?” I hear the surprise in my voice. I also hear the fury. I’m practically shaking with it. “Nothing. Not anything. As in I do not intend todoone single thing.”

Bree

Lauren and Spencer are out with Jake. Clay and Lily and I are having a rare family dinner together. As we eat, my husbandsteals glances at me. Guilty glances. My heart sinks. I’ve seen that look before and I know what it means.

“When are Lauren and Spencer leaving?” Clay asks, and I realize I’m no longer looking forward to their departure. Even in the midst of the turmoil surrounding Jake’s appearance, this time with Lauren has reminded me how close a bond we shared and how much I’ve missed her. Witnessing Lauren and Spencer’s happiness has made me even more aware of how separate Clay’s life and mine have become. We’re both here for Lily, but in so many ways I feel as if we’re simply putting on a show. Going through the motions. He plays everything so close to the vest. Today when I stopped by to visit his mother, Gina, she asked what I thought about the new spec houses selling and I had no idea what she was talking about.

Lily always used to be an open book, at least to me. But I feel her beginning to pull away, weighing what she shares, keeping her feelings to herself, if not her complaints.

“I still can’t believe she couldn’t make time to come talk to my class,” Lily whines now.

“I didn’t ask her. I told you there’s too much going on for that right now. And she’s spending time getting to know her father.” The news of Jake’s connection to Kendra and Lauren was all over town before I could figure out how to explain it to Lily.

“I can’t believe Kendra never told her about her own father.”

I have no answer for this. I can’t quite believe it, either. Or reconcile any of it with the Kendra I know and love. The Kendra who seems to be hiding even from those she’s closest to. I keep telling myself there’s no need to worry, but if I haven’t heard back from her by tomorrow I’m going to go over and use my key whether she’s ready or not.

Lily leans across the table. “What did Lauren say about your manuscript?”

“She congratulated me on finishing.”

Lily sits back. “You mean she hasn’t read it?”

“Of course not. Like I said, there’s been a lot going on for her this visit.”

“Um-hmmm.” She looks and sounds unconvinced.

“Besides, it’s not like you can read an entire manuscript in a couple of hours.”

“But you asked her to read it, right?”

I glance away then force myself to look back and meet my daughter’s eyes. “No, I didn’t. But I’m sure if she thought she’d have the time she would have offered.” The lie sticks in my throat for a second, but I manage to get it out. Then I stand and go to the pantry, where I pretend to be looking for something, so that I won’t have to see the expression on Lily’s face.

In the end it’s Clay who steps in and changes the subject by asking Lily about an upcoming basketball game. Then he teases her about a guard named Shane.

By the time I come back to the table she’s forgotten about me and my manuscript and is denying that she has a “thing” for the junior who’s apparently lettering in more than one sport. Her blush reminds me of how I once felt about Clay. How, after Lauren left, he and I turned to each other and I told myself that the best marriages often grew out of friendship.

I drag in a breath of air and try not to fixate on ancient history. I’ve always hated my parents’ preference for things that are dead and buried. But in view of the current state of my marriage it’s almost impossible not to think about all the mistakes I’ve made. The wishful thinking that allowed me to marry a man who didn’t love me quite as much as I loved him.

And then there’s my last-minute decision not to go to New York with Lauren. Did I back out because I knew I didn’t have the talent, courage, or determination to make it in New York or publishing? Or because I was afraid to leave the familiar comfort of the small town I grew up in? Should I have listenedto Lauren when she told me that Clay wasn’t ready to settle down?

As I sit in the kitchen and stare at the man I married I’m afraid the answer to each of these questions is a resounding, if horrifying,yes!

Kendra

It’s still dark when I wake early Wednesday morning after yet another night spent tossing and turning. So I sit at the kitchen table sipping coffee and staring out the kitchen window waiting for daybreak. I’m still not sure how to repair the damage I’ve done, or if that’s even possible. But I can’t hide inside the Sandcastle a moment longer.

Unlocking the front door is only a symbolic gesture, I know. But it’s a declaration of sorts. A start. So are the shorts and T-shirt I pull on.

As soon as it’s light enough to see I head out to the beach, where my bare feet sink into the cool sand. The breeze is a soft caress as the sun rises out of the ocean and climbs through a cloud-streaked sky.

The swells roll in low and clean. A squadron of pelicans glides over the surface in search of breakfast. The only prints in the sand are mine and those of the sanderlings scurrying and pecking at the water’s edge.

I raise my chin and breathe deeply, pulling the beauty deep inside me. With each sparkle of sunlight that reflects off the water I feel calmer, better able to grapple with my guilt over the damage I’ve done.

I realize as I walk that my vow to never again leap without thinking has made me timid. Too much thought can be as crippling as too little.

On Jennette’s Pier fishermen bait hooks and send lines flying. Another stands waist high in the shallows casting far out in front of him. The more patient pelicans wait and watch from their preferred perches while others swoop and dive.

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