The game, p.16
The Game, page 16
“I love you too. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow. I’m not sure when, but I will call you.” She was about to say that she might come back a few days early but he had already hung up.
She’d just put her phone down on the bedside table and scrunched herself back down in the bed when she heard her door open.
“Bree?” Collie hissed. “Are you still awake?”
“Yes.” She sat up and squinted at Collie’s thin, shadowy form in the doorway. She was holding something in her arms. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m freezing. Shove over.” Collie wrenched back the sheets and climbed in beside her. She dropped the bedcover from her bed on top of them and spread it out, fastidiously smoothing away the wrinkles. “I just can’t get warm. Do you mind?” The ‘do you mind?’ was clearly an afterthought.
“No, I don’t mind but don’t wriggle around too much.” Bree lay down again and rolled over, facing away from Collie, and Collie did the same. “Night.”
“Night.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Collie had decided she was too hot sometime during the night and she’d departed for her own room in the early hours of the morning, but Bree had barely woken up enough to hear her leave. She woke up in the morning feeling rested and calm. Even better, a weak sun was shining through her curtains. The storm was over.
She dressed and went downstairs, where Imogen was again making a large breakfast. “Morning. That smells good.”
“Good morning. The rain has stopped.”
“I know. Isn’t it great?” Bree walked into the family room, where Lily was sitting on a cushion on the hearth next to the newly lit fire. “Hey, Lily.”
“Hey. We might finally be able to do something outside today if those clouds stay away.”
“Maybe.” She went back to see Imogen. “Can I help?”
“You can set out the plates and glasses on the table. I won’t be long here.” She flipped over several rashers of bacon and the smell curled seductively around Bree’s nostrils.
Lily walked in from the family room. “Should we set the table? I’m starving.”
Collie slouched into the kitchen wearing a pair of denim cutoffs and a t-shirt with Show Me Your Kitties printed alongside a picture of a cartoon cat. “The sun is finally out.”
“Collie, that t-shirt!” Lily delivered her words on the end of a giggle.
“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.” Collie slumped against the counter. “I don’t know if I want a piece of toast or if I want to be sick.”
“Morning sickness. Happens to the best of us.” Bree felt as if she was skipping through a field of daisies this morning. Her conversation with Harry last night was everything she’d needed it to be.
Stella and Macy arrived for breakfast together but once again, Stella opted for a black coffee and nothing more. She stared moodily out the window and she didn’t join in with the conversation around the table.
“If Andy and I ever get married, we’re going to do it like the men do it in a heterosexual marriage,” Imogen said, seemingly out of the blue. “We talked about it on the phone this morning. Andy is an early riser like me.”
“You’re lesbians,” Stella said flatly, finally turning away from the window. “Don’t you all hate men?”
“I’m still married, Stella. Sam is an awesome guy and that hasn’t changed. Of course we all don’t hate men. What I mean is, we want to approach our wedding ceremony just like men do. Think back to every wedding that you’ve ever attended. Isn’t the bride always trying to over-organize all the details and doesn’t she generally lose a few pounds before the wedding day because of the stress? And what do the men do? They turn up on the day and have fun. That’s what Andy and I are going to do.” She took a gulp from her glass of orange juice and smacked her lips. “We’re going to turn up on the day and we’re going to have fun.”
“Do you need a bridesmaid?” asked Lily. “I’ve never been a bridesmaid.”
“Doesn’t orange juice have carbs and sugar in it?” asked Stella, looking pointedly at the glass in Imogen’s hand.
“I need the vitamin C,” Imogen said curtly. “And Lily, we haven’t decided about bridesmaids yet and we’re not sure if we want to have a wedding that follows normal societal expectations. But I will let you know.” She smiled benignly and folded her hands neatly on the table in front of her. Bree thought she looked fierce and beautiful and she envied her for her poise and confidence.
“Aren’t you rushing into it by talking about getting married so soon?” Like Stella, Macy hadn’t had much to say this morning. “You haven’t officially left Sam yet.”
Imogen lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “We’re not planning it. We’re just talking about it. We talk about everything together.”
Collie scraped a thin layer of spread across her toast. “I don’t know if I want this. I can’t remember feeling this sick with the girls. Don’t they say that the morning sickness is worse if you’re expecting a boy?”
“I don’t think that’s right,” said Lily. “I wasn’t sick at all with the twins.”
Macy pushed her uneaten eggs around her plate with her fork. “I miss Jerry’s eggs. He makes the best breakfast eggs.”
“Jack’s here,” Imogen said without emotion, gazing out the window to where Jack had just parked a low-slung sports car on the other side of the fallen branches. “Nice car, although it’s clearly a replacement for what he’s lacking in other areas.”
Stella sucked in a quick breath. “He’s super early. Earlier than he said he would be here.” She stood up and smoothed her knitted sweater, a pale pink one this morning, over her hips. She was wearing a fine gold chain instead of her pearls today, and delicate golden earrings. “I should go out and see him.”
“I’ll come too.” Imogen picked up her empty plate and glass.
Stella gave her a sharp look. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“He’ll need some help dragging those branches out of the way and stacking the cut wood once he’s sawed through it. I’ll show him where to put it.”
“I don’t want to help outside,” Lily said flatly. “I’ll do the dishes instead.”
Bree watched as Jack climbed out of the shiny red car. He was wearing camouflage pants and a grey sweatshirt with a small logo on the left breast. He was a good-looking man and that had never been in doubt, but he wore his arrogance like a halo and no one should ever do that. He also had a mean droop to his mouth. Why hadn’t she ever noticed it before? The front door banged shut. Jack squinted his eyes in the morning sun as Stella and Imogen walked across the wet grass toward him.
“I suppose I should go and say hello to my brother,” Macy said without any enthusiasm.
Collie’s face was uncharacteristically pale. “I don’t know if I want to see him,” she said quietly. “You know I’ve never had a high opinion of him and when I’m feeling like this I’ll probably vomit all over his shoes.” She flipped an apologetic glance at Macy. “Sorry, Macy. I know he’s your brother but he’s just not my type of person.”
Out in the kitchen, Lily dropped the plates noisily into the sink.
Macy picked up her fork and drew lazy circles on the tablecloth with the handle. “He has his faults but he’s still family.”
The sound of a chainsaw suddenly filled the air and Collie clapped her hand over her mouth. “Gotta go.” She fled from the room, her long limbs flying.
“He’s smart,” Macy continued, as if Collie hadn’t interrupted her. “He’s a man with ambition. A marriage failure will damage his ego.”
“Perhaps he should have thought about that before treating Stella so badly and sending Imogen those texts,” Bree said mildly. “I don’t mean to play the devil’s advocate but those are the facts.”
“What about the note that claimed he raped someone?” Macy’s eyes were very dark. “Do you believe it?”
“I don’t know.” Bree watched a spray of sawdust rise in the air above the chainsaw as Jack toiled over the largest branch. “I can’t work out who wrote it but the fact that the author hasn’t admitted it does make me think it might just be a nasty prank. A very nasty prank.” She didn’t want to suggest to Macy that Stella might have written it to get a domestic assault off her chest.
Imogen turned toward the window and gestured wildly at them, waving and pointing at something in the trees.
“What’s she doing?” Macy pressed her face up close to the window. “Oh, look. An entire tree has fallen over. I can see the roots. It was lucky it didn’t fall this way and smash into the cabin.” She gave Imogen a thumbs-up signal through the glass.
Bree looked back at Stella, who was standing beside Jack’s car with her thumbs hooked in the belt loops of her jeans. She looked miserable. Bree hoped Imogen would come inside soon and give the couple a chance to talk in private. Stella clearly had a lot to say to her husband and she probably didn’t need an audience.
“I think I’ll go home this afternoon once the driveway is clear,” Macy was saying now. “I don’t want to stay until Tuesday.”
Bree made a sad face. “It’s all because of that stupid game, isn’t it? I wish I’d never suggested it.”
Macy patted Bree’s hand and stood up. She tugged her lips into an apologetic smile before turning away and walking into the kitchen. “Lily, you don’t have to dry them all as well as wash them. Put that dishcloth down.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
It was uncomfortable having Jack here. Bree felt as if she knew far too much about him now – certainly more than she’d ever wanted to know. She couldn’t even meet his eye when she went out and handed him a mug of coffee after he took a break from sawing the branches into neat rounds. She was friendly enough but she didn’t encourage conversation and she didn’t linger, mumbling about needing to go back inside to do something.
“Have you enjoyed your girls’ weekend away?” Jack grinned at her over the top of his coffee mug as she turned away, glinting his eyes in that devilish way of his that now annoyed her immensely.
Bree met his eye for the briefest of seconds and then hurriedly looked away again. “The storm was unexpected. I’ll let you and Stella have a chat.” Stella was sitting in the passenger seat of Jack’s car with the door open and Bree had just passed her a cup of black coffee. The sun was remarkably warm already and steam was rising in lazy curls from the sodden grass. Jack had taken off his sweatshirt and tossed it carelessly onto the roof of his car. The t-shirt he wore underneath was tight and revealed his tanned biceps and toned abs. Bree gave Stella a reassuring smile and hurried back inside the cabin.
***
“They’re shouting now.” Collie tipped her head to one side. “Can you hear them?” Some of the color had returned to Collie’s face and she’d managed to eat an apple and drink some soda since coming back from upstairs.
Imogen stood up and peered over at the window without moving any nearer, making sure to stay out of sight if anyone should glance in from outside. “They’re fighting. Jack’s face is red but it looks like Stella isn’t backing down.”
Macy stood up on the seat of her armchair in an effort to see. “She must have told him that she’s leaving him. I knew he wouldn’t take it well.”
“Hopefully he’ll leave now,” Lily said. “He’s cleared enough of the branches out of the way for us to be able to get our vehicles out. We don’t need him to stay.”
Bree stood on tiptoes beside the coffee table, craning her neck to see what she could. “He’s getting back in his car.”
“And Stella’s coming inside,” said Imogen, narrating the rest of the episode. “Looks like he’s leaving.”
The front door banged and everyone rushed into the living room, although Lily managed to step on the back of Bree’s heel in the process.
Stella leaned against the door, breathing heavily as she bent to remove her boots. “That’s that done,” she said.
“He took it badly, didn’t he?” Macy said darkly. “I knew he would.”
“He’s angry. He’s mad that I know about the explicit texts.” She ran her hands down the back of her jeans and took a deep breath. “I confronted him about the rape accusation.”
“What did he say?” breathed Lily.
“He denied it, but I knew he would deny it. That’s what Jack does best. He wanted to know who it was that had accused him but I couldn’t tell him.”
Bree was pleased to hear that Stella hadn’t written the note after all.
“I certainly didn’t accuse my brother of something so terrible,” Macy said quickly. “I was the one who wrote the confession about lying on my insurance claim. I lied when I put in my claim for the broken garage window. I said a stone had flown up from the lawn mower when really Charlie accidently threw a ball at it during a backyard game of cricket. I didn’t know if I’d be covered if I said the damage was done by a ball.”
The women all spun around to stare at her.
“Why did you take so long to admit it when it wasn’t even such a big deal?” Bree asked, fighting against a surge of anger. “Did you write two notes?”
“No. I only wrote one but when I heard all the other confessions, I thought mine sounded lame in comparison. I was glad it wasn’t drawn out of the bowl. I decided not to say anything so you would all think that one of the more interesting confessions belonged to me.” Macy twisted her mouth into a regretful grimace. “Sorry. I know it was stupid and I didn’t mean for the whole thing to blow up into a bigger issue than it should have been.”
“That leaves two confessions that are unaccounted for,” Imogen said. “Can we just get this over and done with? I’m so, so done with it all. Lily – what did you write?”
Lily flattened her lips and scowled, patently annoyed that Imogen had put her on the spot like this. “Ok, ok. I wrote the note about trying to kill myself. Are you all happy now?”
“Oh, Lily! How can any of us be happy to hear you say that? I feel dreadful that I didn’t know that you’d ever gotten so low. Was this during your post-partum depression after the twins’ birth?” Bree remembered Lily being in a bad way but not this bad.
“Yes. I honestly thought I had nothing to live for.” Lily grabbed her hair as if she was about to pull it into a ponytail. She wrapped the thick hank twice around her hand.
“You said you nearly succeeded. How close was it?” Collie asked with morbid curiosity.
Lily dropped the handful of hair and allowed it to fall loose against her shoulders. “Close. Matt found me. I took too many pills.” She shrugged. “He called an ambulance and they took me to the hospital to get my stomach pumped. It wasn’t my finest moment.”
“I wish you’d told us,” said Bree. “Why didn’t you admit it was you after the confession was read out?”
“Matt’s the only one who knows. Or he was. I’ve never admitted it to anyone before and I wasn’t sure until the moment it was read out whether I would say it belonged to me. I heard you read the words and I was too embarrassed to step up and own them.” She straightened her shoulders. “I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past few days. I shouldn’t be embarrassed. It happened to me and it’s part of my own tapestry now. I lived it and I own it.”
“Good for you, Lily.” Stella seemed to have grown an inch or two since her altercation with her husband. “I’m taking a leaf out of your book from now on. I lived it and I own it – I like that.”
“Are you ok now?” asked Collie. “That’s a horrible thing to have lived through.”
“I’m ok now. Collie! Stop looking at me like that. I’m fine.”
“So who does the confession about the rape belong to?” Bree slowly moved her eyes across each woman’s face in turn. “I love all of you but knowing that someone wrote it and she isn’t willing to come forward doesn’t make me feel good – especially if it’s untrue and it was written just to be nasty.”
“And we still don’t know for sure that it was untrue.” Collie followed the sweep of Bree’s gaze with a sweep of her hand. “Stella said Jack denied it but we’re all here to support our friend if the support is needed. We’ll believe you. We all know that Jack is a liar.” She grimaced at Macy. “Sorry, Macy. I know he’s your brother but it is what it is.”
Imogen frowned. “Did anyone hear that? I swear I just heard a car engine.”
“Maybe your uncle has decided to come out and check on us now that the weather has cleared,” Collie suggested, taking a step toward the window.
Heavy footsteps ran across the deck and the front door banged open, crashing back hard enough for the framed picture of Dante’s Inferno to rattle against the wall.
“Uh-oh,” said Lily.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jack stood in the doorway with a hunting knife gripped in his hand. His face contorted into a snarl as he waved it erratically in the air. “Stella, you’re coming with me.” He took a few steps into the room and stood with his back to the door. When Stella didn’t move, he angrily waved the knife again. “I said come here. I won’t take no for an answer. You’re my wife.” His voice was low and menacing and he didn’t sound at all like Jack.
Bree felt as if she’d walked onto the set of a movie. Who did stuff like this?
Collie giggled nervously. “Is he serious?”
“No. No way. You’re not doing this. You’ve managed to ruin the entire weekend and now you’re trying to make it even worse. Forget it, Jack.” With a surprising burst of speed, Imogen lunged across the room and wrenched the knife out of Jack’s hand. She pointed the sharp tip at his crotch. “Someone call the police.”
Jack looked past Imogen and glared at Stella. He clenched his hands into fists at his side and his biceps bulged alarmingly. “Stella! Call your guard dog off and come with me.”
Stella calmly shook her head. “No. You obviously didn’t think she was such a dog when you made a pass at her and sent her your pathetic little photos.”
