Page 44 of The Night the Lights Went Out
Merilee was ashamed to admit that the thought had crossed her mind. “We should go. Maybe Sugar knows what’s in there.”
“Hang on,” he said, handing her the flashlight. “I doubt she knows or would remember, and we can answer that question right now.” He popped open the two latches on the front, then paused, a locked padlock barring access.
“Well, this dog won’t hunt.” He gave a strong tug on the lock, then leaned over the lid. “Shine the flashlight on top. This looks like an army trunk, which might give us an idea who it belonged to. Maybe jar Sugar’s memory.”
She moved the flashlight, the yellow circle of light catching on what remained of the tips of white stenciled letters that had at some point been scratched out with a sharp object. “They’re unreadable,” she said, her need to state the obvious something she’d acquired since becoming the mother of two young children.
“Sugar might know where the key is. If not, I can break the lock. Aside from curiosity, I’d like to make sure there’s nothing dangerous in there—like ammo or rifles or anything curious kids shouldn’t be messing with.”
Merilee nodded, looking around her and suddenly recalling where she was. “Can we just go now? I think I’ve seen all I need to.” The flashlight flickered, then dimmed. She grabbed his arm.
He put his hand over hers. “I’ll make sure there’s a good stock of batteries and some camping lights down here in case of emergencies.” He looked down at her for a long moment, giving her the chance to explain.
“Thank you,” she managed, quickly turning and heading for the steps.
Once they’d emerged into the warm sunshine, Merilee felt her equilibrium return and led the way back into the house. She poured them both glasses of sweet tea and handed him one, which he accepted gratefully.
“So, were you really engaged to Heather?” She hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but she was trying to clear her head of the damp, still air from the cellar and it was the first thing that crossed her mind. It had been plaguing her more and more since she’d found out and was one of those things that her mind rested on when she woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep.
The light in his eyes seemed to dim. “Yeah. We were. But a long time ago. Back when she wasn’t even a blonde.”
“Hard to imagine Heather without blond hair.”
“True. Not that she will ever admit that it’s not natural. She used to look a lot different. Personality kind of changed, too. It’s like she was happy just being herself until she found out she could be someone else, someone she considered better, and she jumped at it. Kind of left me in the dust. Or at the altar, as Sugar likes to say, although it wasn’t that bad. Only the invitations had been sent out.”
“I’m sorry,” Merilee said, meaning it. “At least she saved you the trauma of a divorce. And being stuck with a whole bunch of monogrammed towels you can’t use.”
“I guess you’d know.” He spoke softly, and he was so close that without having to lean very far she could stand on her tippy-toes and press her lips against his. And when she looked in his eyes, she could see that his thoughts were probably running in tandem with hers.
But she held back. He wasn’t Michael. He didn’t look like Michael or smell like Michael. He wasn’t the father of her children. He also hadn’t broken her heart. Maybe because he’d admitted to suffering from the same affliction, she imagined there was something between them. Some unspoken agreement that their scar patterns might fit together like pieces to a puzzle. But he still wasn’t Michael. She stepped back and imagined she heard them both exhale a sigh of regret.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll just finish that last cabinet in the kitchen, then help you with the books, and I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she said, like she really did want him to leave. One thing she did know for sure was that she didn’t want him there when Heather returned with the children. She remembered the questioning looks she’d received from Heather and the other committee members the night of the gala meeting, and she wasn’t interested in repeating the ordeal of unasked questions and innuendos.
“I’ll get started with the books,” she said before leaving the room, hanging on to her empty glass so she wouldn’t have to brush by him to put it in the sink.
• • •
Merilee sat in the back of Dan’s Mercedes next to Heather, a mimosa in her hand, while Claire sat in the driver’s seat, acting as their chauffeur for the day.
“I told you this would be fun,” Heather almost squealed as they headed toward Buckhead, with its high-end boutiques and the luxury shopping meccas of Phipps Plaza and Lenox Square.
Merilee smiled and took a sip from her glass, self-consciously tucking her feet out of sight. When Heather had mentioned going shopping, Merilee hadn’t thought it was something one would need to dress up for. She hadn’t realized her error until she’d seen Heather in head-to-toe couture, right down to the red soles of her Louboutins. She had pointedly ignored Merilee’s khaki shorts, Jack Rogers sandals, and oversized Ann Taylor blouse, which was a lot roomier on her now than it had been when she’d bought it four years before.
“There’s a designer consignment shop I found online,” Merilee said. “I really don’t have a lot of money in the budget for a ball gown, so I was thinking that would be a great place to start...”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” Heather said, opening up a thermos and topping off Merilee’s glass. “You can’t wear something somebody else has already worn! It could be from someone else at the gala, and as your friend I couldn’t bear to see you embarrassed like that if someone recognized the dress.” She looked very serious, and for a moment, Merilee tried to picture her as the “before,” the brunette with hidden ambitions Sugar had spoken of. But with Heather’s expertly highlighted and colored hair, bronzed and glowing skin, and perfect makeup, Merilee couldn’t imagine her being anything other than the beautiful and wealthy pampered suburban wife and mother she was. Still, she wondered if the before or the after was the “real” Heather, and if Heather ever missed the girl she’d been when she was engaged to Wade.
The champagne was beginning to muddle her brain a bit, but she knew she needed to have this conversation before she did something she’d regret, like squander her children’s college educations for the perfect ball gown she’d only ever wear once.
“That’s just a chance I’ll have to take,” Merilee continued. “I really don’t have any room for anything extravagant in the budget—remember, I’m a single mom, and even though my ex is very generous with child support, I still have to provide food and shelter for myself from what I can earn. I don’t want to be in debt.”
Heather waved her hand in dismissal. “I know, and I so respect you for all that. Which is why I want to reward your hard work and sacrifice by, shall we say, subsidizing a dress. The mothers on my committee have to look the part. If we want people at the auction to bid big money, we need to be front and center looking like big money.” She pressed her hand to her heart and shook her head. “I know it sounds contradictory, but it’s true. Money begets money. If we look like we don’t need the money, the bids will come in higher than if we were wearing khakis and old blouses.”
She looked Merilee directly in the eye, and it was all Merilee could do to not hold her hands across her chest as if she’d just been discovered buck naked in public.
Heather continued. “I like you a lot. I think we have so much in common, and I just know we will be great friends. Which is why I have chosen you as my ‘project.’ Not that you need more than a spit and shine, but I think it’s been a while since you’ve really taken care of yourself—and you deserve to be pampered. I mean, look how hard you work, and without help! It would be my absolute joy to do whatever it takes to get you up to speed. That includes a trip to my hair salon, the Saks cosmetics counter, and my favorite boutique to find you a suitable gown. My treat. If you’d like to pay what you think you can afford, then that’s fine. But what is having money if I can’t use it for good and to spoil my friends?”
