Page 6 of The Night the Lights Went Out
“You’re renting from Sugar Prescott?” Heather approached, her smile still wide and pleasant but her voice strident.
“For the next six months, at least. It’s a beautiful little cottage, and so peaceful with the small lake and the woods. It’s like a place out of time. The children and I really like it.”
Heather’s expression turned to one of concern. “I hope you don’t have to deal too much with Sugar. She’s two years older than dirt and just as mean. I had a little run-in with her at the drugstore—remember, Liz?” She turned to a petite brunette whose face was barely visible beneath her tennis visor as she nodded vigorously. “It was when Brooke was having those horrible spring allergies and I needed to get her medicine—and we were so late for her tennis lesson. Sugar was very unpleasant about giving up her spot in line; I’ll tell you that much.”
“How horrible for you,” Lindi said, her face serious. “Well, I’ve got to go,” she said to Merilee. “I’ll think about potential carpool partners and let you know.”
“Thanks,” Merilee said, waving the business card. “I’ll text you so you have my number.”
“Bye, ladies,” Lindi said with a quick wave. “I’ll see you at the lake party on Saturday.”
Merilee watched as Lindi slid into a white Prius, then looked down at the business card.LINDI F. MATTHEWS. MATTHEWS AND MATTHEWS, FAMILY LAW.
Heather touched Merilee’s arm. “We were just about to head out to the new coffee shop, Cups, to get better acquainted. I hope you can join us.”
Merilee glanced at her watch, horrified to see how late it already was. “I would love to, but I have to work.”
Heather smiled sweetly, but there was a note of disapproval in her voice. “We all work, honey. But it’s important for our children that we moms take time out for ourselves.”
“I know—and you’re right. Maybe next time. It’s just that it’s going to be a busy day and I don’t like to drop last-minute surprises on the nice people I work for.”
“Where do you work?” asked the petite Liz.
“I work for Stevens & Sons in Roswell. I’m their marketing manager.”
There was a short silence before another woman, indistinguishable from the others in her tennis whites, asked, “The jewelry store? The one where Usher is always in the TV ads?”
“Yes, he’s shot a few ads for us, since he’s local. Very nice man.”
“He’s so hot,” one of the women said, and then slapped her hand over her mouth as if it had spoken without her permission.
Merilee jiggled the sign-up sheet. “I’ll fill this out tonight and send it in with Lily tomorrow. And I’ll bring dessert to the party on Saturday.”
Everyone smiled and waved, and Merilee started for her car before she remembered something else. “Is there room for me to bring my son to the party? I’m not sure if I can find someone to watch him.”
Heather smiled widely. “Of course—siblings are always welcome at my parties. We should have enough room for one more.”
“Great—thanks again.”
She said good-bye, then climbed into her minivan, pausing to hit her parents’ phone number. She missed her Bluetooth from her old car, feeling like a dinosaur as she drove past the other mothers, smiling because she didn’t have a free hand to wave.
It rang nine times before her mother picked up. Her parents had only a landline, believing for ten years now that smartphones were only a fad.
“Hello, Mama. It’s Merilee.”
“I know. You’re the only person I know who would ever think to call this early.”
Merilee took a deep breath, eyeing the pink gift bag on her passenger seat and wishing she’d stopped to look inside it before she headed out of the parking lot.
“Did I wake you?”
“Of course not. I’m up early every morning. I just don’t enjoy having to have a conversation this early.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll make this quick. Do you remember when I was little and you used to make those amazing peanut butter fudge brownies to take down to the beach house at Tybee? I’d like to make those for a party for Lily’s class—”
“No. And you know why. I’m surprised and not a little disappointed that you would even think to ask.”
Merilee thought back to her Lamaze classes, focusing on her breathing so she’d stop feeling so light-headed. “Mama, they’re only brownies, for goodness’ sake. And they’re so good. It’s been such a long time—”
