Page 8 of Suddenly Single

When I reached our cottage, my phone buzzed. After switching off the car, I picked it up and saw a message from Carter.

Running late

Emergency appointment with Belinda Therapista

“Shit.” Carter must be super-stressed out if he went to see his shrink. The woman’s real name was Belinda Johnson, but since she had a definite resemblance to the supermodel Linda Evangelista, Carter insisted on calling her that nickname. I hoped I wasn’t the reason for his emergency therapy session, but most likely I was.

“How am I supposed to keep this news about our marriage from him?” I slammed my car door shut and went into the cottage.

A stack of mail was on the kitchen counter, and as usual, it was all bills. I left them for Carter since they were his and dropped my briefcase in the small home office. Carter decorated the cottage, in what he called the first families of Virginia style. Antiques, mingled with contemporary art he’d found at various art galleries up and down the east coast. Since restraint was an unknown word for Carter, our living space was crowded. A few weeks ago he’d mentioned adding a few rooms to the cottage, designed by him, of course. At first I’d put my foot down, saying it was too expensive. But on second thought, a project might be just the answer to my problem. Keeping Carter busy would make it easier to avoid the topic of our non-marriage.

“Asher! Where are you?” Florida’s voice came from the kitchen, where she’d let herself in.

“Be right there.” I shouted, then ran to the bedroom and took my suit and tie off. Normally, I’d put on a simple pair of jeans and a polo shirt. But I decided to wear this fancy outfit Carter bought for me a few weeks ago. Who knows? It might make him happy. According to the label, somebody named Marc Jacobs designed it, and to my dismay, it was snug around the waist. Maybe Carter was right, and I’d put on a few pounds?

Florida was washing dishes when I strolled into the kitchen. “You don’t have to do that.” I took the dish towel from her hands. “Corinne is coming tomorrow. She’ll take care of the dishes.”

“I don’t trust her.” Florida shook her head.

“She’s your niece.” I grinned. “So, what do I owe this honor?”

“The ladies need you up at the big house.” Florida grabbed hand cream off the windowsill over the sink and squeezed some into her hands. “Your Momma is running late, and they need a fourth for bridge.”

“Okay.” I forced a smile. I’d hoped Carter and I could have a few moments of peace together, but that wasn’t happening if Lila Brooke and Mary Jane were here. “Oh, how did your doctor’s appointment go? Are you alright?”

“Oh yes, Dr. Spencer says I’ll live to be a hundred. But they found a suspicious mole on my back and had to do a biopsy," She said. “Now don’t worry about me. Let’s get to the big house before the ladies are too drunk to play cards.”

“Where’s Mom?” I asked, sitting across from Lila Brooke. She had a pad of paper next to her and wrote my name down. Apparently, we were to be on the same team. A martini was in front of her, and she was wearing her usual uniform. Green and pink kilt, with a white blouse and a pink cardigan hanging over her shoulders. Her white hair was in a loose bun on top of her head, held in place by shiny black chopsticks.

“Marjorie had a last-minute thing come up, something to do with a board of directors?” Mary Jane, Lila Brooke’s longtime companion, shrugged her shoulders. Everyone knew they were lovers, but for the last forty-odd years, they’d kept up the charade that they were nothing more than roommates. Mom once told me it had something to do with Lila Brooke’s inheritance. She couldn’t come out and keep her money because of a bigoted father. “Want a brownie?” Mary Jane held a plate up, but I shook my head no. She was the only non-alcoholic in the room, preferring pot brownies and other edibles she cooked up regularly. At least she lived up to her name.

“Let’s stop the chatter and play bridge.” Granny began dealing the cards. Lila Brooke and Mary Jane were her besties, and the three of them had gone to Vassar together. According to Mom, the three of them had been wild at school, notorious even for the swinging sixties. Whenever I asked Granny about her college days, she’d waggle her eyebrows and say nothing.

“Darlings, sorry I’m late.” Mom swept into the room and kissed the top of my head. “Have you started yet?” Mom asked, referring to the card game.

“No. Why don’t you take my place, Mother.” I got up, and Mom slid into my chair. Lila Brooke’s smile split her face. She hated losing, and thought Mom was a card shark. What they didn’t know was that Mom and Florida had a system for cheating. Mom told me about it once after a few too many cocktails, and swore me to secrecy.

“Here, sugar.” Florida handed me a tumbler filled with clear liquid. “Carter said you can only drink vodka or gin. Something to do with carbs or calories.” Then she made her way around the table while the ladies examined their cards. No one realized Florida was examining their cards too. Granny made the opening bid, and Florida went to the bar and started making drinks. Though I didn’t know the particulars about their cheating system, I knew that if she handed Mom a whiskey, that meant her opponents held a certain card. If it was a clear liquor, that meant they were holding something else entirely. Ice cubes also had something to do with it.

“I’m going to win this time, I swear it.” Mary Jane eyed my mother. They had to know something was sketchy, since they almost never beat Mother’s team. I wondered what would happen when they all found out that Mom and Florida were in cahoots.

“Good luck, Mary Jane.” Mom drawled. “May the best woman win.”

“Ladies.” Carter entered the room, and I noticed his shoulders were slumped. When he saw me, he flinched, then strolled over and pecked my cheek.

“Carter!” Florida grinned, then raced to the bar to make him a cocktail. When she returned, she gave him his usual gin and tonic, then she strolled over and placed a whiskey on the rocks next to Mother. The game was officially on.

“How come you’re late, Carter dear?” Lila Brooke asked. “Long day at work?”

Carter glanced over at me and sighed dramatically. “No, I had to check in with Belinda Therapista. Stress, you know, the usual.” Carter sat on the loveseat opposite the card table, and I sat next to him and patted his knee.

“Is everything okay?” I whispered, and he turned and looked at me like I was a specimen under a microscope. He opened his mouth and nothing came out. “I love you, no matter what it is.”

“Do you?” Carter whispered back. When his gaze met mine, I saw his eyes were wet. Whatever he was going through couldn’t be worse than how I was feeling. Learning about the legal mixup surrounding our wedding was eating me alive. Mom told me to stick to my guns and not say a word to Carter until she’d examined my options. Since she was the best lawyer in Virginia, I was reluctantly following her advice.

“Of course I do.” I sighed, then glanced up and saw Mom staring at us. She returned her gaze to the cards in her hands, and Florida removed her empty tumbler of whiskey and replaced it with what appeared to be a vodka on the rocks. Since it was ill-advised to mix clear liquors with brown, I wondered how none of the other women had figured out Mom and Florida’s system.

“You know Marjorie cheats, don’t you?” Carter whispered, and when I looked at his face, he almost looked like his old mischievous self.

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