Page 64 of The Night the Lights Went Out
The car stopped and the window rolled down. “Good to see you again, Wade.” Turning toward Merilee, Dan said, “You said you were free Monday morning, so I thought I’d stop by and pick up that package you’ve been holding for me. But if you’re busy... ,” he said, indicating Wade and the patrol car pulled up in front of Sugar’s house.
“Not at all—this is perfect timing,” she said as she walked toward the car. “If you give me a lift to my place, I’ll get it for you.”
She waved good-bye to Wade, ignoring the question in his eyes, then slid into the passenger side of Dan’s car. It smelled faintly of leather and a light scent of cologne that she thought was quite pleasant. Michael hadn’t worn cologne, maybe because he didn’t think he could carry it off. But Dan could. He was the kind of man who could get away with wearing a pink shirt or carrying his wife’s handbag without dinging his masculinity.
“You look pretty,” he said, and Merilee smiled, noticing the lack of a zing, for which she was grateful.
“Thank you. And don’t mind the police. We found an old trunk in the cellar complete with an army shirt and bullet hole. Sugar doesn’t know anything about it, so we’re not worried. It’s been there awhile.”
“So’s Sugar,” Dan said with a half smile, making Merilee laugh.
Dan continued. “Sorry to hear that Heather’s making all her committee heads work over the weekend. I hope you didn’t have any plans.”
Merilee was startled for a moment before she remembered that Heather had told Dan that she was staying home to work on the gala over the long holiday weekend. It was a white lie, Heather had confessed to Merilee, told only because Heather knew that Dan had been itching to spend time at his fishing cabin drinking beer and not shaving for four whole days, and if Heather hadn’t said she’d made plans to stay home and work, he wouldn’t have gone for a much-needed break.
Merilee found it sweet, the way Heather worked so hard to make sure her husband had a break. So completely different from Merilee’s now-defunct marriage, in which Michael called all the shots and everybody did what Michael wanted to do. Maybe if they’d seen Dan and Heather’s exemplary marriage, they might have been able to save their own.
Merilee smiled. “Yes, well, I love her dedication. It’s going to be an amazing event and I’m glad to be a part of it. And I’m thankful she’s not making us wear hoop skirts and corsets to go along with the theme.”
“Oh, I’m not so sure. I think you’d look lovely in a hoop skirt and corset.”
Merilee grinned. “Well, thank you, suh. But what about the curtain rods?” she asked, recalling the famous Carol Burnett skit. “Should I leave them behind?”
He laughed, and Merilee felt relieved that he’d recognized the reference. But she figured anybody who lovedHogan’s Heroesas much as he did probably would have. She was glad to have found another friend, especially one she respected. She remembered what he’d said about Heather, and why he’d selected the ring for her. It had touched Merilee, to see that kind of devotion from a husband toward his wife.
He stopped the car in front of her house. “Stay here, and I’ll run in and get it.” Without waiting for a response, she went into the house and pulled out the beautifully wrapped box, glowing in its iridescent gold and silver paper with coordinating ribbon. As she closed the drawer, she looked up through the side window by the fireplace in the front room and saw a small white dog in the yard.
It was just standing there, looking toward the drive, where Dan’s car sat idling, its tail wagging slowly, its little pink tongue hanging crookedly out of its mouth, as if it had just run a long distance and was catching its breath.
Merilee slammed the drawer shut and raced out the front door and down the steps, looking out toward the side yard. But it was empty, with no sign of the little dog.
Dan opened his door. “Anything wrong?”
“Did you see the dog?”
He raised his eyebrows. “A dog? What did it look like?”
“It was small and white, and he was right there in the middle of the side lawn, but now he’s gone.” She shook her head. “Colin’s been seeing a little white dog and I’d begun to think he was imagining it. And now I think I am. Maybe it’s a mirage.”
“Maybe,” he said, his face thoughtful. “It’s not always easy to recognize what’s real and what’s not.”
His expression had changed, almost as if he were closing something off from her. She focused on the package as she handed it to him. “I wish somebody had told me that years ago. Might have saved me some heartache.”
“Nah. You still would have made the same mistakes. But how are we going to learn if we don’t make a few mistakes along the way?”
She studied the package for a moment before lifting her gaze to meet his. “True. Thanks for stopping by—and I hope Heather loves the ring as much as we do.”
“Me, too.” They said good-bye before he closed the car door and drove away.
Merilee walked back to the side yard and around the house, looking for the little dog, thinking about what Dan had said, and wondering if she’d ever learned anything from the mistakes she’d been making her whole life.
• • •
The gate guard at Prescott Estates waved her in, the barrier going up as soon as her car rounded the corner into the entrance. She was there so often these days that she was now on a first-name basis with all the guards.
She parked in front of the multicolumned clubhouse, then headed inside, her purse and water bottle tucked securely under her arm. It was Thursday evening and they were supposed to be having their weekly committee-head meeting, which was why she’d been confused when Heather told her to wear her workout gear and bring water and then had refused to answer any more questions.
The guard on duty in the reception area stopped her and rerouted her from the dining room, where they usually met, to the workout room on the lower level. Merilee opened the door and stopped, her eyes blinking under the bright fluorescents, ten or so vibrantly colored rubber mats covering part of the floor like a patchwork. Two eager-looking women stood in front of the mats, smiling toothy grins.
