She then talks about the town and the people living here and her friends.
I still have your baby with me. That gets my attention.She’s parked in the garage, waiting for your return. Like me, she’s hoping that will be one day very soon.
The letter ends with anI love youand aPlease stay safe.
I’m reading another letter when my phone announces that my stepmother wants to Skype with me.
“Hi, Lucinda,” I say, smiling. “Is that a new dress? It’s gorgeous.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I saw it at Chanel and knew I had to have it. It will be perfect for the upcoming tea party that I’m hosting.” It’s the annual event that leaves the society pages in quite a buzz every time. It’s usually a lot of fun, and I always look forward to it.
She glances around her, as if to make sure no one is within hearing range, then leans closer to the screen. “I can’t tell you who, because it’s a big secret, but there’s going to be an engagement announcement at the event.”
My insides squish like an accordion with a hole in it. When I was dating Mathew, Lucinda kept telling me that she hoped to one day announce our engagement at the tea party. Now it looks like that honor will go to someone else.
Especially since I’m as close to falling in love as I am flying to the moon. But after Mathew cheated on me, he stole a large chunk of my ability to trust—and I haven’t yet found where he hid it.
Add the scars and the limp, and I’m wondering if it’s too early to apply for spinsterhood.
Maybe the membership comes with a nice welcome pack from Saks Fifth Avenue. A consolation prize, if you will.
“Are you not getting enough sleep?” Lucinda asks. “You look tired. Let me talk to Rosalita.” Her favorite esthetician. “She’ll know exactly what you’ll need. Then I can send everything to you in a care package.”
This is why my stepmother is the best. She’s always looking out for me.
“I’ll also need something for my hands,” I say. “They’re kind of a mess, and there are no beauty spas out here.” Other than the one in Golden Falls, which closed for renovations.
“Oh, heavens. Let me book you an appointment for your return. And in the meantime, I’ll find out from Rosalita what she recommends for your hands while you’re in that little hick town.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re a beautiful woman, Kate. I just want to make sure things stay that way. Looks are everything.”
Unfortunately, in the world I live in, that is so true. That’s probably why there are so many plastic surgeons per capita there. Beauty is everything, especially if you’re a female. That doesn’t mean I like it, but it’s just the way it is—like ice cream in the summer and leaf colors changing in the fall.
“Did you hear the big news about Wilfred Vandenberg?” Lucinda asks, shifting to her gossip tone. It’s the one she uses whenever she’s got some exciting news she wants to share. “He’s getting married.”
Married? He’s about two hundred years old, give or take a decade.
The last I heard, he was looking for trophy wife number five. Ex-wife number four recently turned thirty—which will make me over-the-hill by those standards in less than two years.
“Who is he marrying?” Thank God, not me.
“Victoria Gluttenstein.”
I blink. “As in my friend, Victoria?” I must have misheard her. That’s the only explanation.
“Yes, that’s the one.”
Holy cow. “Does she know that she’s engaged to him?”
I can see her with Wilfred (Will) Vandenberg the third. The two of them had a fling five years ago.
But Wilfred Vandenberg the first? There’s no way she would marry him.
“She’s the one who told me the news when I saw her in Neiman Marcus two days ago,” Lucinda says. “She was positively glowing.”
Lucinda continues to gush about the news, but I don’t hear a single word. Victoria is one of my closest friends, and yet she never told me that she’s engaged.
