The Friends We Keep

Her mother tsked. “Help? It’s her baby. She should do more than help.”


“That’s what I said, but Andrew wants her to be a teenager. She needs to go to school and I don’t want the baby to be a punishment, but what about taking responsibility? What about consequences?”

“So the two of you are fighting.”

Gabby hung her head. “Some.”

Her mother leaned close and held her by her upper arms. “Gabby, listen to me. I know what I’m talking about. The children come and go but your marriage should be forever. Andrew can be difficult, but he’s a good man. Talk to him. When he doesn’t get it, try again. Don’t give up. You love him. I know you do.”

“We haven’t been talking very much,” Gabby admitted, thinking about how she’d mostly been avoiding him lately. With school starting tomorrow, she’d been crazy busy, so keeping her distance had been easy.

“Talk to him,” her mother repeated. “Work this out. Your marriage is worth saving.”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to tell your father until after the party. You know him. He’ll say something and no one wants that.”

Marie rose and pulled Gabby to her feet, then hugged her tight. “My baby girl. Let me know what I can do to help.”

“I will, Mom. I promise.”

“That’s my girl.”

*

“Pam never invites me to her parties,” Morgan whined. “Why is that?”

“Because she doesn’t know you.” Hayley smiled at her sister. “I work for her son and I used to work for her husband. You have nothing to do with her.”

“But you always say she throws really great parties.”

“She does.”

“Then I should get to go.”

Morgan had simply shown up fifteen minutes ago, with no explanation, no anything. Just a knock on the front door. Rob was at the grocery store, picking up the wine they would take to the party. Hayley had thought briefly about not letting her sister inside, but then had decided she wasn’t going to be afraid or back down. Not anymore.

They were standing in the kitchen. Hayley had to fight against customary politeness to keep from inviting her sister to sit down. She and Rob were leaving as soon as he got back—this was going to be a short visit.

“You’re not coming back to Supper’s in the Bag, are you?” Morgan asked.

“No. That’s why I sent you a letter resigning.”

“But I need you. The business sucks. I hate it. You did all the crap work. Now I have to. Or hire someone to do it. It’s not fair.”

Hayley realized that with great sorrow had come freedom. She no longer needed the job, so she didn’t have to put up with anything she didn’t want to. The word victim played in her head, but she’d never been her sister’s victim. She’d been a willing participant.

There were nights when she woke up crying—not from any physical pain, but from loss. Deep, bone-chilling loss. But more and more there were times when she felt powerful. Because the choices were all hers now.

“You could sell the company,” she suggested calmly. “Get a job working for someone else.”

“Why on earth would I do that?”

Morgan’s dark hair hung in thick curls. She was beautiful, as always, if one ignored her petulant expression. The permanent sulk was starting to give her lines around her mouth. Wasn’t that just so very sad?

Hayley knew she was being bitchy, but was willing to go with it. She remembered their mother saying that it was okay to be a little mean now and then, as long as you felt bad afterward and didn’t make a habit of the behavior.

“I miss Mom,” Hayley said, thinking their mother would have had a lot of sage advice to give about so many things. “Do you still have the scrapbooks she made for us?”

“What? No. I have three kids and a husband. I barely have room for a pair of socks in my house. And who has time to look at stuff like that?” She used both hands to fluff her thick curls, then let them fall back onto her shoulders. “I can’t do this anymore. There’s too much stress. I need to get away. Can you take the kids for a long weekend?”

“Sure.”

“Just like that?”

“I enjoy my niece and nephews and I haven’t spent enough time with them lately. Of course they can stay with Rob and me while you get away.”

“Good.”

“Are you taking Brent?”

“God, no. He’s part of what I need to get away from. Jeez.”

Hayley found escape in humor. “You’re not the nicest person on the planet, are you?”

“I don’t have time to be. My best employee just quit. I’ll text you the details.”

“I look forward to hearing from you.”

Morgan stared at her. “What’s gotten into you? You’re different. I thought you’d be all mopey and sad, but you’re not. Don’t you care that you can’t have kids anymore? Was that all just a game?”