Within two weeks of the sentencing, Megan called Savannah to say that Will had sold the business, that they were putting the house on the market and leaving Providence.
It was the first time they had talked since the sentencing. Savannah was having trouble reconciling the fact that, very probably, Megan had used her. The closeness they had once shared seemed tainted by truths unspoken and trust betrayed. It was the sad ending of a dear friendship, and Savannah, who was feeling more susceptible to her emotions than usual, wasn’t sure how to say goodbye.
That was why, on the Sunday after Megan’s call, when Sam, Susan, and Courtney were spending the afternoon with Savannah and Jared on the boat, Savannah suggested that Susan and she take a few minutes out for a quick visit with Megan. Since the men weren’t about to be left behind, and Courtney certainly couldn’t be left alone, the five of them piled into the Pathfinder.
The house that had been in the Vandermeer family for years looked old and tired, since Will no longer made even token attempts at upkeep. Left without hope of a facelift, it seemed to sag more than ever.
Inside, the rooms were strewn with packed cartons. What furniture hadn’t been sold was covered with padding. The walls were a checkerboard of squares where pictures that had hung for years hung no more.
Will was on the phone. Diplomatically, Jared and Sam took Courtney out to explore the backyard, leaving Savannah and Susan inside, on the carpeted steps with Megan.
Wearing jeans and shirts, the three of them looked as they might have looked, sitting together, chatting, ten years before. Their faces were more mature and somber, though, and the chatter was more a quiet, sad talk.
“Where will you go?” Savannah asked.
Megan gave an awkward shrug. “We’ll be leaving for Saint Croix tomorrow. The Websters have loaned us their villa for as long as we want it. Will has been in touch with some people about buying into a textile business in North Carolina. If it pans out, we’ll be moving to Winston-Salem.”
“Winston-Salem, North Carolina,” Susan drawled. “Sounds good enough.”
Megan looked down at her hands, which were sandwiched between her thighs. “I can’t stay here. Rhode Island is too small. I’d never escape—” she lifted a shoulder, “—everything.” Her shoulder returned to normal, but she didn’t take her eyes from her hands. “Between the sale of the house and the business, we’ll have a nice kitty. We can start over somewhere where they won’t look at us and stare.”
Savannah couldn’t help but think that if what she suspected were true, an odd kind of justice had been served. Megan was being punished. She’d suffered through the rape, through the ordeal of the trial, through endless days and nights of private agony. She and Will had a long road ahead of them, particularly given Will’s track record as an entrepreneur. If he’d failed once, he could fail again. Savannah prayed he’d either go into something with partners who knew what they were doing, or hire a business manager.
“Will you be working?” she asked.
Megan nodded. “With Will. We’re in this together.” She paused. “I love him. I don’t care where we live or what we do.” A flicker of pain crossed her features. “Unfortunately, he cares. He has more pride than I do. Selling the business has been one of the hardest things he’s had to do.” She manufactured a small smile. “But he’s trying. He’s looking forward to doing something different, and if he can find something that makes him happy, I will be, too. That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” she said in an even softer voice, but there was an intensity to the look she gave Savannah. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be a helpmate to Will.”
The words, the look, and the tone spoke simultaneously of justification and apology. Then Megan forced a small laugh. “Pretty old-fashioned, huh? I must be a gross disappointment to you two.”
“Disappointment?” Susan asked. “Because you care about pleasing the man you love?”
“Because that’s aboutallI care about. You both have other interests. You always have. You’ve always lived the kind of lives I wanted to live, only I never made it. I’ve been obsessed with the basics. When I was a kid, it was survival. As an adult, it still is, only survival now means salvaging my marriage. It’s taken a battering. There’s been so much pressure.…” Her words trailed off in a moment of pain.
“None of us escapes those basics,” Savannah mused, realizing it as she spoke. “It may seem like we do. It may seem like our lives are fuller or more exciting than yours, but the bottom line is always the same.”
“Men,” Susan said.
Savannah shot her a look. “I’m serious.”
“So am I. We thought we were hot shots, didn’t we? We thought we were the cat’s meow, modern women taking the world by storm. You were the lawyer. I was the femme fatale.” She forced a dry smile. “It’s pretty empty, isn’t it?”
“Oh yes,” Savannah said.
“But you have Jared,” Megan told her, then turned to Susan, “and you have Sam.”
“For now. Having Courtney has thrown in a new twist.”
“But you adore her.”
“So does Sam. She’s finally warmed up to him, which means that my role as a buffer is over. Now there are dozens of decisions to be made concerning her future. Some we agree on, some we don’t. But that’s not the twist. The twist is that Sam has to want me independently of Courtney.”
“He does,” Savannah said. She’d had enough frank discussions with Sam to know it was true. She also knew that though her sister still drank on occasion, she hadn’t been drunk in months, which wasn’t to say the problem was solved, simply that it was temporarily eased. Knowing that Sam cared, and how much he cared, was a comfort to Savannah. “Sam loves you.”
“He says it.”
“It’s true.”
“There are times when I wonder. But I’m trying to make a go of this. I’m working real hard at it. It’s not easy.”
