Page 20 of The Night the Lights Went Out
There were so many ways Merilee could choose to answer that question that it was hard to find one that would be appropriate for young ears. “You’ll just have to tell her that they’re delicious and she’ll have to wait until she can have one.”
Colin slumped in the backseat next to his sister. “What if the dog comes to the yard looking for me and I’m not there?”
“If a tree falls in the woods, and there’s no one there to hear, does it make a sound?” She hadn’t meant to be snarky, but she was feeling tense at the prospect of seeing all those people at the party and having them know more about her than she knew about them. Like how her ex-husband was living with his pregnant girlfriend.
“Huh?” Colin asked.
“Sorry,” Merilee apologized. “I was just answering your hypothetical question with one of my own. And it’s ‘excuse me,’ not ‘huh.’ I don’t need people thinking you were raised in a barn.”
“What’s wrong with being raised in a barn? I think that would be cool. And I could have a dog and as many animals as I wanted, because it’s a barn.”
If the road up to Heather’s house on Lake Lanier hadn’t been so narrow and curvy, Merilee would have closed her eyes in frustration.
“Hypothetical means it’s not based on fact, but on what someonethinksmight be true,” offered Lily. Merilee’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter.
Merilee had been up to this area, known as “Atlanta’s water playground,” a few times to take the children to the water park at Lake Lanier but had never been invited to one of the private homes. When Heather had told her that they should have enough room for Colin, Merilee was left thinking of a smallish cabin in the woods, with a distant lake view through the trees. Which was why when her GPS told her to take a left at a large gated entrance, she was surprised to be stopped by a man in uniform carrying a clipboard, and even more surprised when she gave him her name and it was on the list.
The road narrowed as it climbed past heavily wooded lots, quick slices of water views teasing them as they meandered their way until they couldn’t go any farther because of all the parked cars. Merilee put the minivan in park as a young man wearing khaki shorts and a white button-down shirt ran toward her.
Merilee rolled down her window. “I’m looking for number eight thirty-six.”
“The Blackfords?” He was already tearing off a ticket stub and handing it to her. “Just jump in one of those golf carts and one of us will be happy to drive you to the house.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary. We can walk,” Merilee said, eyeing the heavy tray of cookies.
“Well, it’s about three-quarters of a mile, mostly at a slope, so I’d suggest you take advantage of the carts. That’s what they’re there for.” He smiled and opened her door.
“All right, then. Hang on, Lily, and I’ll take the tray.”
Lily looked more relieved than was warranted.
After settling themselves into a golf cart driven by another young man wearing a uniform of khaki shorts and white shirt, they were driven past two large stone pillars, each with an upright and angry-looking lion perched on the top. She looked down at her shorts and wondered if she should have worn a dress instead.
The driveway opened up, giving them an expansive view of the lake and the large dock and boathouse and impressive array of motorized water toys parked around it. Several adults and children were making their way down to the dock, but Merilee didn’t have time to try to identify anyone because she was too busy staring at the house. Except it wasn’t a house. Even calling it a mansion wouldn’t have been accurate. It was more like something from a Disney movie—sprawling and turreted, with mullioned windows and lots of wrought iron. It couldn’t be described by any single architectural term. It was more like someone had thrown a bunch of styles into a pot and stirred so that instead of highlighting a single thing, the style muted all the elements, creating something that was more surprising than beautiful.
The golf cart swooped around to the front of the house, blocking their view of the lake, and stopped in front of wide stone steps leading up to double wooden doors, the arched frame above them high enough to belong to a castle with a moat. There was no moat here—only a perfectly manicured lawn and garden that was so crisp and colorful Merilee wondered if it could be fake.
“Merilee!”
She turned at the sound of her name, relieved more than she’d have liked to admit to see Lindi Matthews. They hadn’t had a chance to have their coffee yet, but they’d had several phone conversations, during which Lindi had essentially pulled Merilee back from the proverbial ledge on the desperate matters of what to pack in the children’s lunches and whether she needed to reciprocate with gifts to the entire class (whatever the kids wanted and no, respectively). Lindi’s ability to listen and consider all sides of a problem before offering solid advice probably made her a very good lawyer. Merilee needed to talk to another adult about the blog and thought she’d ask Lindi out for lunch on a day they could both manage it, because that conversation would last for more than just a cup of coffee.
Lindi smiled, a small dab of pale pink lipstick on her front tooth. “You’ve got a bit here,” Merilee said, touching her own tooth with her finger.
Lindi closed her mouth and swiped her tongue over her teeth. “That will teach me not to try putting on lipstick while I’m driving. I don’t usually wear makeup, but one of the moms is a former Miss Georgia so I always feel as if I have to be on my A game when I’m with this crowd.”
“Which one?” Merilee asked, turning for the first time to study the crowd of people. She hardly recognized any of them out of their tennis gear.
“The tall redhead with the legs up to here. It’s one of the reasons why you see a lot of dads at drop-off. For the sightseeing.” She winked. “Come on. Let me show you where to put the cookies. It’s called the dining room, but Jenna calls it the banquet hall.”
They walked inside the house, and Merilee tried not to gape at the wall of windows that faced them, framing the view of the lake, or at the plush furniture and art that decorated the foyer and living spaces. She looked down at the girl standing next to Lindi, a miniature version of her mother. “Hello, Jenna. I’m Mrs. Dunlap, Lily’s mother. She tells me that you’re very good in math; isn’t that right, Lily?”
She turned to find that both of her children had left her side, seeing that they’d deposited their bags with their bathing suits and change of clothes on the floor next to her feet. Feeling a moment of panic that all mothers seem to acquire at childbirth, she didn’t relax until her gaze settled on both children. Lily was already huddled in a group with Bailey Blackford, and after a moment, she spotted Colin sitting cross-legged in front of a large black Lab, reaching up to scratch it behind its ears. Assuming it was the family dog, Merilee made a mental note to ask Heather if they might ever need someone to dog-sit when they went on vacation.
“I like Lily,” Jenna said, her voice so quiet that Merilee had to lean very close to hear. “She’s nice to me.”
Merilee’s eyes met Jenna’s for a brief moment of understanding at the implication of Jenna’s words.
“Sweetie, why don’t you go say hi to Lily and she can introduce you to her friends?” Lindi offered.
