Leaves Page 13

  “Sounds great,” Annie said, pulling back a bit, “but I have some old acquaintances I want to make jealous.”

  “You sure?”

  “We can’t skip out on this, hon.”

  “Next Saturday, then. Duffy seems great. I think we should book her every Saturday night until Joey goes to college.”

  Annie kissed him on the cheek and then pushed him away gently. “I like it when you’re horny.”

  A half-hour later, they were inside a massive tent on the grounds of the botanical gardens. The band was playing U2, Nirvana, and Red Hot Chili Peppers, though Maxwell knew that fluffier songs from the nineties would be arriving soon, especially when the band was trying to coax people out onto the dance floor.

  Dancing was going to have to wait for Maxwell and Annie, though. Nearly as soon as they entered the tent, they peeled off in separate directions, Maxwell to catch up with Beck, a lacrosse buddy he hadn’t seen in at least a decade, and Annie to show off in front of a couple of former cheerleaders.

  **^^^**

  Annie knew she was going to have a good time tonight. It all started with the dress. She’d been apprehensive about putting it on ever since she brought it home. Yes, it looked good in the store, but she’d been fooled by that sort of thing before. This time, though, the dress looked better than she remembered, and she just knew the evening was going to go right.

  It didn’t hurt that Cynthia Robinson and Georgeanna Tillman fawned over her for ten minutes after she showed up. They made her feel so good that Annie could put Georgeanna’s pending judgeship in perspective.

  She’d just left them to get another drink when she felt a light touch on her bare forearm. She turned, expecting to find Maxwell. What she found instead was decidedly not her husband.

  “Oh, God, your hair still does that amazing floaty thing when you turn around.”

  It took her a second to register Marty. Not that she’d ever forgotten what he looked like, but she’d never seen him in a suit – a very expensive suit, from what she could tell – and while he still had longish blond hair and a full beard, the hair was professionally styled now, and the beard was cropped very close to his face. Based on a quick glance, this wasn’t the original Marty, but a very impressive upgrade.

  Annie squealed – a sound she rarely made – and threw herself into her old boyfriend’s arms.

  “I had no idea you were coming tonight,” she said as she stepped back.

  “I didn’t know myself until a couple of days ago. I didn’t even know this was happening until a couple of days ago.”

  “You mean you didn’t get any of the dozens of reminders the committee sent out?”

  Marty smiled in the lopsided way Annie remembered well. “I think they might have lost track of me. But now that I’ve seen you, I’m very glad I found out about this little party.”

  Marty made no effort to hide the way he was ogling her. A long-buried memory surfaced of the way he used to drink her in with his eyes when they were in bed together.

  “Annie, you look remarkable.”

  Suddenly, the praise from Cynthia and Georgeanna seemed paltry. “Thank you. You’ve cleaned up pretty nicely yourself.”

  Marty swept his eyes quickly over his suit. “Yeah, I have a few of these now.”

  “I’m guessing you decided to do something other than classic car renovation.”

  He chuckled, causing his bangs to sweep in front of his face. “Yeah, you might say that. Let’s put it this way: I had a very good idea about five years ago and things sorta took off from there.”

  Annie leaned toward him, feeling his heat even from a distance of a few feet. “Your good idea wouldn’t be illegal, would it?”

  “Not even a little bit. In fact, the government and I have become very good friends.”

  Annie couldn’t imagine the Marty she knew ever saying something like that. This was the new and improved model for sure.

  “So, have you moved back to the area?”

  “I’m scouting locations. Right now I’m set up about an hour outside of Vegas.”

  “How long are you around?”

  “Not sure yet. I might be convinced to ‘scout’ a little longer in the vicinity. I’m swinging back in this direction toward the end of the week. Any chance you’re free Thursday afternoon?”

  Annie nearly said she needed to make sure she could get a babysitter. This wasn’t the time to mention Joey, though. She’d work it out.

  “I can be free.”

  Marty grinned at her. “Then I will definitely be in Oldham on Thursday.”

  A few minutes later, someone Annie didn’t recognize whisked Marty away. She didn’t catch sight of him the rest of the night, but they’d already made arrangements for Thursday.

  She just knew she was going to have a good time tonight.

  Ten

  Sunday, October 17

  Fourteen days before the party

  Doug rolled over onto his back with a satisfied laugh. “Making love to you is a pleasure any time, babe, but making love to you first thing on a Sunday morning has always been a special treat.”

  When they’d first fallen in love, Maria and Doug would often make love when they woke on the weekends and then spend most of the rest of the morning in bed. After Olivia, that became impractical and for the most part impossible, and it became one of the many pleasures they exchanged for the different pleasures of parenthood. She wasn’t sure what brought it back to Doug’s mind this morning, but she remembered now that it was an awfully good way to bring on a new day.

  Maria snuggled up next to Doug, resting her head on his chest. Back in the pre-Olivia days, she often dozed off at this point, but she didn’t feel sleepy at all now. At the same time, she didn’t have any interest in getting out of bed.

  “We don’t have anything going on today, right?” Doug said, kissing her hair.

  “Not a single thing.”

  He drew her closer. “The day just keeps getting better.”

  Neither of them said anything for the next several minutes. Doug lightly stroked her arm with his fingernails while she played with the hair on his chest.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you that I’ve started playing guitar again.”

  “Hey, that’s good.”

  Maria wasn’t sure why she hadn’t mentioned this to Doug before now. She’d gotten into the habit of talking about the mundane parts of her day, but somehow avoid speaking about this exciting part.

  “It is good. I can still play, which was a relief. I even went for a lesson at McGarrigle’s the other day.”

  “That was a nice idea.”

  “You think?”

  Doug kissed the top of her head again. “Definitely. It’s good for you to have a hobby.”

  Was that what this was? Music hadn’t ever seemed like a hobby to Maria, and she wasn’t looking at it that way now. If she’d decided to take up scrapbooking, that would be a hobby. Blogging about being an empty nester – that would have been a hobby.

  Not this, though. To Maria, the word “hobby” connoted casualness. One engaged in a hobby as a way to pass the time. She’d never felt that way about music.

  She was about to mention this to Doug, but she decided to let it go instead.

  **^^^**

  Tyler had been feeling uneasy since yesterday morning. It felt like he was coming down with something, though he was fairly sure his physical health wasn’t an issue. The pleasures of Friday night had given way to the uncertainty of Saturday morning. Patrice hadn’t responded to his proposal in any way, and when he hinted at it, she’d been evasive. Pushing it seemed like the wrong thing to do, but their drive home to Oldham had felt awkward. Compounding this, Patrice had cancelled their date last night, saying that the nonstop rush at the store had left her exhausted and needing a quiet evening and an early bedtime.
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br />   Feeling antsy, Tyler had awakened early this morning, gotten in his car, and pointed it east, winding up an hour and a half later in Narragansett, RI, wandering along by the water, and grabbing lunch before turning toward home. He avoided the highway on the way back, so the return drive took much longer, especially since he stopped twice to take photos. By the time he got back to town, the fall sun was lowering.

  Tyler didn’t know what to make of Patrice’s reticence. He couldn’t possibly have read what was happening between them the wrong way. And this wasn’t the first time the subject of marriage had come up, though admittedly it hadn’t come up often and both of them had been noncommittal. Was she just so shocked by the proposal that she didn’t know how to respond? Did she think maybe they should spend more than a few days back together before making wedding plans? He couldn’t fault her if that were the case, but he still wished she would say something.

  As he pulled up to his home, Tyler resolved to get his mind on something else. He’d make himself some pasta, have a couple of beers, maybe stream a movie or two. He needed to do something to shake this mood. The weirdness with Patrice would go away in due time; they’d reignited, and that wasn’t going to die down again. As long as that was true, the rest was just detail.

  He heard the thud as he opened the front door. The sound was coming from his bedroom. Had someone broken in, knowing he had valuable computer equipment in his studio?

  He had no idea how to deal with this. Did he pull out his phone and call the police? Did he run out the door, back out of the driveway, and let whatever was happening happen? He had insurance; there was no reason to go vigilante here.

  He heard whispers. Two voices, one male, one female, both sounding young. He was either being robbed by kids or something much stranger was going on.

  He stepped cautiously down the hallway toward his bedroom. When he got there, he found Ryan and a girl he’d never seen before, though there was plenty of her to see now. They were struggling into their clothes, and the girl had one leg in her jeans and nothing on top.

  Ryan, obviously a faster dresser, was buttoning his shirt when Tyler stepped in the doorway. Their eyes locked, and Ryan scowled.

  “You think maybe you could give us some privacy?” he said sharply.

  Tyler glared back at him. “You’re in my bedroom.”

  “So that gives you the right to see my girlfriend naked?”

  Ryan’s attitude was so outrageously disarming that Tyler found himself momentarily speechless. By the time he thought of a response, Ryan’s girlfriend – and he didn’t even know Ryan had a girlfriend – was no longer naked in any way, and they were striding past him.

  “Just don’t,” Ryan said, pointing a finger at Tyler as he exited.

  Five seconds later, Tyler heard the front door slam.

  Feeling utterly disoriented, Tyler sat on his disheveled bed.

  Well, at least now he had something else to think about.

  **^^^**

  Maxwell had desperately wanted to make love to Annie when they got home from the reunion, but Joey had other plans for them. Whether he was feeling a little under the weather or he was off his game because they’d left him with a babysitter – something they rarely did – Joey was out of his bed and into their room before they’d even brushed their teeth. Maxwell tried to settle his son down and then take the boy back to his room, but Joey protested and Annie suggested that they let him sleep in the room with them. They’d done this sort of thing before, laying Joey’s old crib mattress on the floor next to their bed, but they’d never done it when Maxwell was feeling this much desire for his wife. Romance was definitely out of the question with their notoriously light-sleeping child a few feet away. Annie and Joey dozed off quickly while Maxwell stared at the ceiling and wished the evening had had a sweeter ending.

  Annie had seemed distracted most of the morning. He tried to debrief her about the reunion since it seemed they’d spent so much of their time talking to others in different parts of the room, but Annie didn’t seem particularly interested. She even got up from the breakfast table to clear the dishes when they both still had half of their coffee left and then focused on chores she usually did when he wasn’t around. Joey was being his usual pinball self, so Maxwell just shrugged it off and played with his son.

  At around one o’clock, he finally got his wife and child out of the house. The air was crisp but the sun was strong, and it wasn’t the kind of day for spending indoors. They decided to have lunch at Proof, a recently opened bakery. Several people at the Chamber had told Maxwell that the breads there were outstanding and the sandwiches were inventive. Not willing to push the envelope too far, he ordered a turkey on a baguette with melted cheese and orange marmalade and got Joey peanut butter and jelly on potato wheat, even though the kid really wanted an Oreo cupcake. Annie said she only wanted a croissant. She hadn’t eaten much for breakfast, either.

  For the first time, Maxwell considered the possibility that his wife was hung over. He hadn’t seen her drink terribly much, but they’d spent a good portion of the party apart. Maybe she had been drinking more heavily when she was catching up with old girlfriends, though she never seemed drunk to him at any point during the night.

  While they waited for their food, Maxwell talked with the owner, asking her about her first month’s business, offering support, and inviting her to come to the next Chamber meeting. Once they sat down to eat, first Roye Albrighton of Progressive Lighting and then Isabella Summers of Valley Appliances stopped at their table before Maxwell could take a single bite. The conversation with Isabella went on for a bit, as she was exercised over street repairs going on in front of her store. She seemed to calm when Maxwell said he would see what he could do with Town Hall about authorizing another work crew to speed the repairs along.

  When Isabella left, Maxwell smiled at his wife and then finally tried the sandwich, which was as delicious as advertised.

  “Yum,” he said, pointing the sandwich in Annie’s direction. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks. It probably tastes better now that you’ve built up an appetite working the room. You’re the man everybody wants to talk to today.”

  Maxwell rolled his eyes. He hadn’t actually noticed, because these exchanges seemed to happen wherever he went around town. That, presumably, was one of the reasons Mike and Will were trying to get him to run for office.

  “Yeah, well, about that, there’s a chance even more people are going to want to talk to me. A bunch of people are trying to get me to challenge Mayor Bruce next fall.”

  Annie’s eyes opened wider than Maxwell had seen them all day. “You’re not seriously considering that, are you?”

  “I know, I thought it was ridiculous, too, when I first heard it. I have to admit it’s growing on me, though.”

  Annie looked away from him and out the bakery’s window. When she didn’t say anything for a full minute, Maxwell said, “I thought you’d think this was pretty cool. If I won, you’d be Oldham’s First Lady.”

  Annie snickered at that and then looked at Joey, who’d stuffed a good quarter of his sandwich in his mouth. She shook her head slowly and then made eye contact with Maxwell.

  “That’s a big job.”

  “Well, it’s not like I’m running for mayor of New York or even Hartford. It’s hardly the first step toward the presidency.”

  “But you’d be working long hours.”

  “I work long hours now.”

  “No kidding. Longer hours.”

  Maxwell had expected Annie to enjoy this. He imagined her delighting in the public appearances and the great clothes she would get to buy to make them.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it from a workload perspective.”

  “Yeah, well, maybe you should.”

  Maxwell wished he hadn’t brought up this subject today. His instincts were usually better than th
is.

  “Annie, are you okay? You seem a little off.”

  Annie took a sip of coffee and looked over at Joey again. “I’m fine.”

  “You sure? Did you have a little more wine than you planned last night?”

  Annie tilted her head to the side and gazed at him. “Really, I’m fine.”

  “You just don’t seem fine. Did something happen at the reunion last night?”

  Annie dropped her eyes to the table. “This mayor thing just caught me by surprise.”

  That might have been true, but Maxwell knew it was only a partial explanation. Annie’s body language made it clear, though, that if there were more to discuss, she didn’t have any interest in discussing it.

  Eleven

  Monday, October 18

  Thirteen days before the party

  Corrina had spent most of the morning following links. Yes, she’d charged Maxwell with doing the PR for the party, but she’d had enough conversations with him about it at this point to realize that, at the very least, he needed backup. While he might be working the usual angles, Corrina knew there were all kinds of online publicity opportunities – everything from leaf-peeping sites to travel sites in other parts of the country – that might mention the party or even do a feature piece if they just knew about it. She’d already gotten two bites by following this strategy.

  She’d just clicked on a mom blog from western Rhode Island when a popup ad took over a significant portion of her monitor. Didn’t her computer block these things automatically? Did anyone think this kind of advertising was effective anymore?

  She was about to roll her mouse over to click off the ad when she took a look at it. The ad was from a telephone florist, and it featured the exact corsage Maxwell had given her when he took her to her first formal when she was eleven. The corsage looked horribly old fashioned, but maybe it was coming back into style. Not that she’d been keeping up with corsage fashions, though she supposed she’d know a little more about them if Ryan decided to go to his junior prom in the spring.