Of course, a wave of déjà vu washes over me seeing the pool, with the same type of mosaic tile as the pool where Sunny died. But that’s fine, I can handle it. It’s not the same pool, and I’m glad Roxy shoved Brett and me out here in the doghouse. It’s for the best, of course; our wild lovemaking would have disturbed these vanilla types.
“Fun time last night,” I say as we step inside the main house. I must admit I did appreciate his physical agility last night. By the end, my husband had let himself go. Likely what did him in.
“Oh yeah, it was,” Brett says with a big grin on his face. “More fun tonight?”
“Count on it,” I say.
We walk into the kitchen to find a buffet set up on the island, reminiscent of what you’d find in a fine hotel: scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, bagels, cream cheese, smoked salmon, capers, avocado toast, and a green salad. A feast.
Jamie and Greer are seated at the kitchen table, already enjoying it.
“Morning, you two,” I say as Brett and I grab plates.
“Good morning,” Greer says.
I notice Jamie isn’t smiling and seems enraptured by building her bagel and cream cheese. I guess she’s mad at me too. Whatever. It’s been a minute since Jamie and I have caught up, and we certainly drifted apart after college. I’ve watched her, though, through social media and her annual Christmas cards. She’s always been so busy with her perfect family, her career as a cardiologist, and the countless charity boards she sits on. Besides, it’s not like we were ever all that close. She was a whole year younger than all of us, and mostly we tolerated her in our inner circle because Roxy had chosen her as her little sister.
I’m still not sure why. There were certainly better choices, more connected and wealthy choices, for sure. Jamie was always so uptight; even during rush you could see it. The notion of party-girl Roxy mentoring and taking under her wing the no-fun Jamie, well, I’d tried to talk her out of it. But when Roxy makes her mind up, you can’t ever change it.
“Stop trying to change my mind,” Roxy had said when I’d suggested other alternatives. “I’m what Jamie needs. She needsto lighten up. Have some fun, and who better to teach her than yours truly. Am I right? Besides, I don’t want any competition from my little sis. And she’s, well, wholesome enough to not steal my thunder, if you know what I mean. These young girls are a threat.” She tossed her blond hair over her shoulder.
“No, they are not, not for you. You’re untouchable. And you should pick someone else,” I’d said. But it turns out, they did have a solid bond. I wouldn’t say Roxy made Jamie into a party girl, she was much too busy studying for that, but the two of them have stayed friendly over the years, and that’s more than I can say about my little sister. I don’t even remember her name now. Ha.
Beside me, Brett says, “They even made fresh-squeezed orange juice. I feel like I’m at a five-star resort.”
I smile. I wouldn’t expect anything less from Roxy. “You are. Hotel Roxy.”
We carry our plates over to the table and join Jamie and Greer.
“So, Jamie—is it OK if I call you Jamie, or would you prefer Dr. Vale? I hear you’re the top cardiologist in Orange County,” Brett says, taking a big bite of eggs.
Greer looks up and tilts his head. The wrinkles next to his eyes make him look his age, unlike the rest of us who get rid of those the minute they appear, including Brett. “How did you know Jamie is a cardiologist?”
“Oh, I’m a pharmacist,” Brett says. “In my job you get to know a lot of doctors’ names, since you’re filling prescriptions for their patients. But it’s always nice to put a face to the name.”
“Makes sense,” Greer says. “My wife is a star, that’s for sure. Her practice is full; she’s even thinking about going concierge. People will pay thousands of dollars to be one of her patients.”
Jamie smiles without looking up, continuing to be very busy with her bagel. It’s almost like she isn’t here at the table with us. She’s acting so shy and modest after her husband’s bragging about how kick-ass she is. If anybody ever bragged about me that way, I’d be jumping for joy.
Brett says, “You know, Jamie, after breakfast, I’d love to pick your brain if you have a minute. I need to figure out this drug interaction one of my customers keeps having. It could be deadly, and I didn’t spot it.”
“Now, now. I didn’t bring you here to talk about drug interactions; I brought you here for fun,” I say. I am sick of him paying attention to Jamie. “You should focus on making your date happy.”
“Oh, I did that last night, remember?” he says.
Don’t flatter yourself, I want to say, but I’m distracted. These eggs are melting in my mouth—how did they make them so perfect?—and the avocado toast is the best I’ve ever had. Roxy must have had a team in the kitchen putting all this together.
“You know, come to think of it, I remember you from chemistry class, Jamie,” Brett says.
“Wow, that was a long time ago,” I say. “I thought you only remembered me.”
“Mostly you, Amelia, of course,” he says. “But, Jamie, I think I was your TA one semester. Organic Chemistry? You probablywould’ve been a junior. I think that’s when most students took that class.”
Jamie shakes her head. “I’m afraid I don’t remember that class at all. That whole year was a blur, actually.” I watch as she pushes her plate away, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.
I wonder why?
18
