“His name? Ste … fon.”
“Well, you deserve it. And … if I’m being completely honest, it makes a little easier to tell you that I am seeing someone new.”
New?She’d just ended things with Dan. But Frances seized on the opportunity to turn this conversation around from an interrogation. “Oh? Tell me everything. Here? What’s his name? How did you meet?”
“His name is Ken,” Marjorie said, and settled back to tell her story of meeting the next man who would give her a “forever ring.” If he didn’t die first, that was.
Nineteen
Irene had set up an encrypted group chat for the four of them. This was not something any of them were used to. “What do you mean the messages just disappear?” Edie kept asking. “Why?”
Joan had explained it as best she could, but Frances and Edie had loads of questions. Where did the messages go? Was there any way to get them back? What if you didn’t see it before twenty-four hours was up?
It had been a few days, and Edie didn’t like it—information was coming fast and hard, and everything of importance disappeared after twenty-four hours. She was accustomed to running charity drives and garden parties, the planning of which was done over long, wordy email chains. It made it difficult to find any details, but at least there was a record of everything. But this? She had to keep a notepad at the kitchen table to jot down important points while she had a sandwich before they disappeared.
The instructions from Joan she’d jotted down thus far:
–the time they were to arrive in Dallas
–the location they were to meet in Dallas
–the list of things Joan said they needed to bring (Wigs? Really?)
–medications. Never forget your meds
–Joan’s phone number in case she lost this list
Notes from Irene included:
–cardigans, hoodies, ball caps, and walking shoes
–Fran, stop texting how much fun this is
And from Frances:
–the location of the house rental Frances had found in Las Vegas. In case they were separated. It wouldn’t be hard to remember—it was on the same street as the last place they’d rented there (as if any of them could remember that).
–this is so much fun!
Edie dutifully wrote it all down and kept the notepad in her purse.
Today was the day. She was leaving in an hour or so, on her way to Dallas to meet up with the girls. She was at the kitchen table, having coffee and some eggs, reviewing her list to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. It was only the second morning she’d had to herself—it had taken two days to convince Marcy to go back to Nashville.
“You treat me like a child, Nana,” Marcy had complained.
“In some ways, you still act like one. Don’t give me that sour puss. You know what I’m saying is true.”
Marcy’s gaze had turned hard. “Well, what do you suggest I do about it?”
“I suggest you pick yourself up and make your own way.”
“That’s what youalwayssay,” Marcy had shot back and then had left in a huff.
There was no one home this morning but Edie and Bernie. Simon hadn’t come home last night. He was more brazen with his affair, almost daring her to say or do something about it. He was going to get his wish.
When she was satisfied she had everything she needed, theonly thing left to do was to let her douche of a husband know she’d be gone a couple of weeks. After all, they’d built this estate together and it needed to be tended. She got up from the table and took her plate to the sink. That man had some nerve staying at Linda’s where the whole town could see him. He’d said he was going downstate for a couple of days to take care of some business. But she’d driven by Linda’s house yesterday and seen his car parked out front, and Linda’s in the drive. She could hardly avoid knowing—Linda’s house was on the road to the bank.
This was part of the twisted game they played in their marriage. He knew she’d see his car. He also knew she would make it hard for him. Sometimes she thought Simon liked having his balls busted. And he liked knocking her down a peg.
