Page 42 of After We Fall (After We Fall 2)
I cringed. My mother was the last person I wanted to talk to right now, but I dutifully took the call.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Margot. This is your mother.”
No matter how many times I told her she didn’t have to announce herself, she never failed to do it. “Hi, Mom. How are you?”
“Fine. I played tennis this morning and I’m about to meet Aunt Dodie for lunch.”
“Sounds nice.” Nothing ever changes in her world.
“So I have to run,” she breezed on, as if she hadn’t been the one to call me, “but I wanted to let you know you can come home whenever. Tripp was caught in flagrante delicto with a waitress at the country club. In the men’s locker room, of all places! Why any woman would want to go in there is beyond me.”
My jaw was hanging open. “Really?”
“Yes, it’s all anyone can talk about. Mimi Jewett’s beside herself, but if you ask me, she had it coming, the way she gossiped about you and The Incident.”
“Right.”
“So I don’t know what your plans are, but do be back for the Historical Society fundraiser at the end of the month. We’re hosting, and it’s important for Daddy’s campaign.”
“What’s the theme?”
“Gatsby.”
“Again?”
“People like tradition, dear.”
I sighed. It was useless to argue with Muffy on the subject of tradition. Her life was ruled by it. Mine was too, for the most part. “I’ll be there. Bye, Mom.”
I put my phone down and looked out the window at the lake. So thanks to Tripp (what an idiot), I could show my face again at home. And even though I was paid up here for nine more days, I knew hanging around any longer than necessary was probably a bad idea.
Because the more I thought about Jack Valentini, the more I wanted to see him again, get to know him better. Kiss him again. Touch him. Feel him inside me. Hear him whisper to me in the dark. Figure out why the chemistry between us was so good. Was it simply a case of opposites attract? Or was there more to it?
Sighing, I gave up trying to solve the riddle and admitted the truth.
There’s no way this can work. I should just leave.
I tidied up the cottage, packed my bags, and called Georgia, explaining that due to a family emergency I was leaving earlier than planned, but I’d be available by phone or FaceTime or Skype or whatever she wanted to use to keep in touch moving forward. She thanked me for my time and said she’d contact me as soon as they’d had a chance to discuss everything.
I also contacted Ann, the property manager for the cottage, and told her I was leaving sooner than expected, but I understood I wouldn’t get my money back.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll mail you a check for the security deposit.”
“Thank you. I’m about to get on the road, so I’ll leave the key on the counter.”
“You’re not leaving tonight, are you?” she said. “At least wait until morning. There’s a huge line of storms coming through.”
Frowning, I looked out the window but saw no evidence of impending doom. Maybe Ann was like my mother, who thought every drizzle was a monsoon. But I did drive an old car, whose windshield wipers weren’t the best. I could wait until morning. “I suppose I could wait until tomorrow.”
“I think you’d better, dear. If you shoot me a text when you leave, I’d appreciate it.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.”
Faced with an evening alone and no food in the fridge, I decided to walk into town and grab a bite to eat and a glass of wine. On my way out the door, I thought about grabbing an umbrella, but a quick hunt for one in the cottage turned up nothing. Oh, well. At this point, the skies looked relatively clear, the water was calm, and only a slight breeze ruffled the curtains. I wouldn’t be out long, anyway.
I walked into town, proud of myself for remembering the way, and purposely chose a restaurant other than the one I’d seen Jack at two nights ago. It was right on the water, busy with a summer dinner crowd, and the hostess seemed a bit put out having to seat a table of only one. “I can sit at the bar,” I told her. “It’s not a problem.”
