No one appeared to be panicking although Pete sent her a quizzical look. Although she’d mentioned rearranging the book club when her usual summer trip with her friends had been canceled back in the summer, he’d obviously forgotten that Christmas had been mentioned as a possible date. Or maybe he hadn’t thought she’d actually choose to go away at Christmas.
The kids didn’t react at all, and for a wild moment she wondered what would happen if she didn’t come back for Christmas. If she didn’t arrange all the food, and string lights and winter wreaths and garlands around the house, and help everyone hang stockings above the fireplace for Santa. Would they even bother doing it themselves, or would they just treat it like another day of the week?
She gritted her teeth. “Are you hearing me? I’m going to be away for a week.”
Meg helped herself to garlic bread. “Sounds great, Mom. I think it’s great that people of your age still have friends.”
People of her age?
“Friendship isn’t just for the young, Meg.” If anything, you needed your friends more as the years passed; at least she did.
“I know. That’s what I tell Dana and Maya. Don’t sweat the small things because we’re in this for the long haul and we’re still going to support each other when we have wrinkles and no teeth. Although I don’t intend to ever have wrinkles, which is why I asked Santa for high-factor sunscreen. Have fun, Mom. And say hi to Erica. Lucky you spending a week with her. She is so cool.”
Erica was cool, it seemed, whereas Anna was boring old Mom whose mere presence at a school concert was an embarrassment.
Hurt gnawed behind her ribs.
“What has Erica done to earn the title of cool?”
Meg shrugged. “She’s the boss, isn’t she? I mean, she flies all over the world first class, and people pay her a fortune to give them advice on stuff. She stands up and gives presentations to thousands of people. That talk she did has had like sixty million views on YouTube. She has focused her life on her career and doesn’t ever apologize for it.”
Anna considered Erica’s lifestyle to be bordering on the unhealthy but maybe that was because she knew much more about Erica than her children did.
She knew that one of the reasons Erica had focused on her career was because her mother, disillusioned and struggling after Erica’s father had vanished from the scene when she was born, had drummed into her that she should never, ever rely on anyone except herself for anything. She knew that although Erica would never admit it, her childhood had left her so focused—she wouldn’t use the phrase screwed up exactly, or maybe she would—on the importance of independence that she wasn’t capable of sustaining a romantic relationship. Erica never leaned on anyone, or relied on anyone, although she was more than generous with her own time. When one of her friends was in trouble, she was there to provide whatever support they needed.
Anna glanced at Pete and felt a rush of love. If she stumbled, she trusted him to catch her and she knew he felt the same way about her. She didn’t ever doubt that he’d be there for her. Some people might have thought she was naive, but she knew she wasn’t. She trusted him completely.
She’d felt this way right from the day she’d met him. She’d been working in the college library and seen a gorgeous man with ridiculously long eyelashes so absorbed in a book that he hadn’t noticed the girls hovering close, sending him longing glances. She’d just finished the same book, so she’d handed him the next in the series and he’d invited her back to his room to share a bottle of wine and discuss it.
Twenty-two years and two kids later, they were still drinking wine together, laughing and talking about books. Right through college they’d been “Anna and Pete,” and they were still Anna and Pete.
Erica, who had flitted from partner to partner even at college, had never understood how the two of them could be so content, but Anna thought that was probably because Erica had never been willing to fully trust someone. She’d never had a truly intimate relationship.
Erica had never put herself in a position where a man could walk out and ruin her life, the way her father had.
Anna thought about it sometimes. She thought about Erica’s father and wondered what sort of man would walk away from his wife and newborn baby. She tried to imagine Pete doing the same, but it was impossible to imagine it because Pete would no more walk away from his children than he would walk away from Anna.
Over the years she’d entertained hopes that Erica would meet someone and fall in love—Claudia blamed Anna’s addiction to romances—but it had never happened. And now Erica was forty.
Forty.
They’d been close friends for more than two decades, since they’d shared a room in college.
Anna thought about her earlier phone call with Claudia. After they’d finished speaking, she’d taken another look at the Maple Sugar Inn and couldn’t see a single reason why Erica would be choosing it. She had a sneaking suspicion that Claudia was right. Something was wrong with Erica, but she knew from experience that Erica would tell them when she was ready and not before.
Meg finished her pasta and put her fork down. “Also Erica has great clothes and is always in great shape. You would never know she was forty. She doesn’t look that old.”
Pete winced. “Oh, the cruelty of youth. Forty isn’t old. Forty is the new twenty.”
Meg stared at him as if he needed humoring. “Er—okay, Dad. If you say so.”
I’m the same age as Erica, Anna thought. Would people guess she was almost forty? Yes, probably. She wasn’t thin, and she didn’t stride around exuding confidence the way Erica did. She was suddenly aware of the fact that her jeans were biting into her tummy. Maybe the kids leaving home would be the nudge she needed to take better care of herself. Get fit.
“Erica stays in hotels a lot, so she always uses the gym and the pool.” She ignored the little voice in her head that reminded her that exercise was a choice, that you didn’t need a five-star hotel or a gym membership to stay in shape. Claudia was proof of that. She ran most mornings, and worked out several times a week. There was no doubt that of the three of them, Anna was the sloth.
“Exactly,” Meg said. “Erica puts herself first and doesn’t apologize for it. That feature about her last week—what was the headline?” Meg tapped her finger on the table and then smiled. “‘What Glass Ceiling?’ That’s it. About how she’d let nothing get in the way of her ambition. I showed everyone at school. I said That’s my godmother and they were all like, Whoa, you’re kidding. And then the teacher asked if I could invite her in to talk to the school. I said I would, but she’d probably be in Tokyo, or London or somewhere glamorous. She’s an incredible role model for women.”
Anna put her fork down.
She’d spent the past eighteen years trying to be the best mother possible, and now she was discovering that if she’d gone back to work and focused on climbing the career ladder, she might have earned more respect.