The Friends We Keep

“I want you more.” His mouth turned down at the corners and sadness filled his eyes. “You’re still planning on going to Switzerland for treatment.”


He wasn’t asking a question, but she answered anyway. “Yes. As soon as I can raise the money.” She reached for his hand. “I want you to be a part of that. I want—”

He pulled free and rose. “Goodbye, Hayley.”

With that, he turned and walked away. She was left with her cooling coffee and a book she knew she could never, ever read.

*

“You look beautiful, Mommy,” Kenzie said.

Gabby turned back and forth, letting the full skirt flow around her. “I am a princess,” she said dramatically. “You servant girls, do my bidding. You there.” She pointed at Boomer. “Fetch my carriage.”

The long-suffering dog, dressed in a ridiculous yellow-and-purple-striped jacket, wagged his tail. The twins collapsed onto the floor in a fit of giggles. Jasmine, sensing trouble, had fled long before the dress-up party had gotten started. Gabby would guess the feline had safely hidden under the king-size bed in the master, where she would stay until things quieted down.

It was late afternoon on Friday. Andrew was taking Makayla to her mother’s for the weekend. Candace knew he had something to discuss but didn’t know the topic. Gabby tried not to imagine how the conversation was going. Andrew would share all when he got home.

She secured the “tiara of power” more firmly on her head and pointed at Kennedy. “You will quack like a duck,” she said imperiously.

Kennedy sat up and made the appropriate noise. Kenzie joined in and Boomer bayed. Her bidding completed, Gabby took off the tiara and passed it to Kennedy.

“I yield my princessness to you.”

And so it went. Everyone got a turn being the princess and bossing the other two around. A little before five, Gabby ushered the girls out of the playroom and into their bathroom.

“Hands washed,” she said briskly. “Hair brushed and then we’re off.”

A very brave Ellie Davidson from the summer camp was having four girls over for dinner. Gabby had no idea why. Lunch, sure. An afternoon birthday party, yes. But dinner? Late in the day meant tired kids. There was more potential for disaster. But she hadn’t been consulted. When the invitation had come, the girls had been excited to get it.

Twenty minutes later they were walking the three blocks to their friend’s house. Kenzie and Kennedy each had a small gift bag in their hands.

“It’s nice to take something to the hostess,” Gabby explained. “To thank her for the invitation. Adults bring flowers or wine. Sometimes a dessert. We could have chosen hair ribbons or a book.”

“Mrs. Davidson will like the cookies,” Kennedy said. “They were delicious.”

Gabby only had their word to go on. Despite the ongoing Makayla crisis, she’d been faithful to her diet. According to her scale, she was down nearly eight pounds. A fantastic victory. She’d been attending classes at Nicole’s studio twice a week and eating way more vegetables than a biped should. She was a little less crabby than she had been at the beginning, but just as hungry. Still, she was seeing results and that was what mattered.

She was waiting to go clothes shopping until the week before she started work. Hopefully she would be in a smaller size by then.

They arrived at their friend’s house. Gabby had the girls ring the bell, then they waited to be invited in. She greeted Mrs. Davidson, confirmed the pickup time and that she had Gabby’s cell number, then left the twins to play.

The late afternoon was still sunny and warm. She could smell food grilling, which made her stomach growl. She and Andrew had a couple of steaks ready for their own dinner and she’d prepared a big salad earlier. Since it was Friday, she was going to allow herself a glass of wine. Just one. And no dessert. Talk about grim.

But thoughts of hunger and dieting faded when she rounded the corner and saw Andrew’s car in the driveway. She hurried the last few yards home.

“I’m back,” she called.

“In the kitchen.”

She found Andrew by the island, pouring himself a glass of scotch. He looked tired.

“How did it go?” she asked.

“Candace doesn’t disappoint,” he told her as he held up the bottle of red wine she’d left on the counter.

She nodded. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“It’s Candace.”

“So bad.”

“She swore. She blamed us. She swore some more. She talked about how disappointed she was, how she didn’t have time for this. Pretty much what we expected.”

Andrew didn’t look at her as he spoke. Gabby knew that his attention on opening the bottle of wine was a lot more about what he didn’t want to say.