Page 111 of Just One Look
Southern Exposure
When they werein Piper’s little car, driving the hilly, curving roads of the island in the gathering dark, Elizabeth said, in an attempt to make some kind of conversation, “It must be pretty over here in the daylight. There are probably beaches, I guess. Does your mom have a good view from her place?”
“It’s not bad,” Piper said, and that was all.
Oh. Lauren’s place wasn’t very nice, that meant. She’d been working in the sort of pretty-lady-assistant capacity that you found at every high-end medical conference when Baxter Wolcott had encountered her in Australia, pursued her in a whirlwind courtship, married her, and moved her and Piper lock, stock, and barrel to Savannah. Lauren would’ve been around forty at the time of the divorce, which would make her about fifty-five now. New Zealand was incredibly expensive and Auckland was worse, and Lauren was unlikely to have launched a lucrative new career in that time. Although …
Interior decorating, maybe. That didn’t require credentials or capital, and Lauren had beautiful taste and perfect poise. Everybody had always said so. Elizabeth hoped it was something like that, that she was doing all right. If she wasn’t, if she and Piper were in trouble … then what?
You couldn’t offer money. Even she could see that. How much would that hurt Lauren’s pride, coming from her formerly awkward, shy-as-a-mouse stepdaughter? She wished she could’ve brought dinner, though. It had been tactless of her to ask about the view, too. People probably lived out here because it was cheaper, given the long commute.
Piper said, “Nearly there now.” The road had narrowed until two cars would barely be able to squeeze by, and it was all very … dark and jungly out there. She could see that, because Piper had turned at one of those driveways, and there were ground-mounted lights shining into the vegetation. It looked nice.
Do not mention your Atlanta house, or even where your Auckland apartment is,she told herself.Ask about them and their lives. In a non-patronizing way.She just hoped she could manage it.
Of course she could. If she focused, she could do anything, and she was going to focus. She was here to make amends. She’d just hold that in mind, and …
The road flattened out, and Piper slowed down, then stopped as black gates slowly opened ahead of them. Elizabeth said, “Oh. It’s gated. Is that a thing here?” Maybe it was condos. Lauren was doing well, if she had a gated place. That was a relief.
“For some people,” Piper said. Elizabeth barely heard her, because she was staring.
Well, yes. Lauren seemed to be doing all right. Also, she probably didn’t have a “not bad” view.
The house was made of concrete and glass, the asymmetrical design looking like an extremely elegant stack of shoeboxes. Most of the windows of the three stories were glowing gold, and there were a whole, whole lot of them. Also, the house seemed to be at the very top of this hill. They were approaching from the back, because the front would obviously face the sea.
Piper drove into a sort of forecourt, then a garage, and said, “This is it,” unnecessarily.
“Oh,” Elizabeth said blankly. “It’s really nice.”
“It is,” Piper said, climbing out of the car. “Not mine, of course, but we’ll enjoy it for now.” She seemed to have her equilibrium back, and her smooth sunniness along with it. That was good. That would help. Unless it was because she was enjoying seeing Elizabeth at a loss, which was entirely possible. Hey, everybody was allowed to enjoy some karmic justice.
Through the door into the house, then, and through a modern, sleek, stone-tiled foyer, where Piper called out, “We’re home!” the same way she’d done when she and Elizabeth had come home from school, when she’d go running into her mother’s arms and they’d hug like they’d been apart for years, and Elizabeth would make sardonic comments in her head about overenthusiastic girly girls, and how tired peppy people made her. Possibly because she didn’t have anybody’s arms to run enthusiastically into, to be fair.
It wasn’t Lauren who came running to meet them this time. It was a little girl, about hip high on Piper, with Piper’s long, wavy hair in an even paler blonde, Piper’s huge blue eyes and slightly snub nose, and Piper’s general adorableness. The kid was laughing, and so was Piper, scooping her daughter into her arms and kissing her while the little girl kissed her back and smiled with Piper’s dimples.
“Mummy!” the little girl said. “I missed you very, very much today. And do you know what happened? We got a guinea pig at my school!”
“That’s so exciting!” Piper said, all her happy enthusiasm back. “I want to hear all about that, but first—this is your Auntie Elizabeth. She’s my stepsister, and she came all the way from America to see us. Birdie, this is my little girl, Maddy.”
“Hello,” Maddy said, and stuck out her hand. “I’m happy to meet you.” She did look happy. Happy and sweet and beautiful.
Even beautiful people have problems,Elizabeth told herself, feeling the ugly black shape of her teenage demon rising, hearing the rustle of its leathery wings unfolding.She told you about some of them. You don’t have to surrender to the demons anymore. Nobody else can diminish you. You are enough.She might not be able to do “beautiful” and “worthy,” not to mention “lovable,” but surely she could manage “enough,”if it helped kill the poisonous envy. She shook Maddy’s hand and said, “Hello, Madeleine. I did come a long way. You look old enough to be in school. Is that right?”
Ask thoughtful questions about the person.Another Jordan lesson. That had been all she’d been able to come up with. What did you ask a little kid about? Her favorite color? What kind of toys she had? Whether she liked cookies?
“Yes,” Maddy said. “I’m in kindy, because I am four years old.” She held up her hand and showed Elizabeth four fingers, and Piper put her down, shrugged off her jacket, and said, “Hand me your things, Birdie, and I’ll hang them up.”
That was why, when Lauren came around the corner, as slim and polished and beautiful as ever, Elizabeth was tangled in her jacket, and also suddenly, horrifyingly aware that she’d been standing out in the wind on that ferry for half an hour, that her tidy French braids were probably surrounded by a nimbus of unruly frizz, and that her eyeliner had to be either smeared or gone.
Why hadn’t she put off calling Luka on the ferry, and gone to fix her hair and makeup in the toilets instead? That was whatanybodywould have done! How had she not eventhoughtof it?
Lauren was smiling and helping with her jacket, which resulted in a sort of tugging frenzy as the sleeves turned inside-out off Elizabeth’s arms, all while saying, “Birdie. How lovely to see you.” She gave her a quick hug, once the jacket-wrangling was over, then stood back and said, “You look well. Professional. Striking. Beautiful.”
“She came all the way from ’Merica, Nana!” Maddy said, grabbing her grandmother’s hand and pulling her through the enormous foyer and into a huge, rectangular, high-ceilinged room that stretched on forever, dominated by glass walls and a honey-colored wood floor. It was as modern a place as any Elizabeth had ever seen, and as tastefully warm, including the kitchen, which was enormous and done in pale green and cream and stainless steel. Also, the entire opposite wall, which would face the sea, was made of glass. The “not bad” view? She had a feeling it was more like “spectacular.” She also had a feeling it was “extremely expensive.”
Lauren said, “She did, Maddy. That’s a very long way. Birdie, this is my husband, Angus MacDonald.”
Elizabeth shook the hand of a tall, broad man with snow-white hair that swept back from his forehead, and a face ruddy and lined like decades out of doors. She said, “I go by Elizabeth now, actually.” There. She’d said it. Nonchalantly. Jordan would be proud.
