The Best of Us (24 page)

“Wow,” Allie said. “Gary’s getting off easy.”

Allie seemed back to herself now, Tina noticed. Her brief episode of anger toward Gio had passed. Gio was lounging on a chair a few feet away from the hot tub, sneaking occasional glances at the women. Clearly he had been shocked by Allie’s outburst, and he was acting chastised. It was strange that Allie was ignoring him. She knew Gio well, and understood that he had a great heart beneath his tough exterior.

Funny, Tina mused as she took another sip of the cold, sweet mudslide, but Allie—the most even-keeled woman in the universe—had gotten seriously angry twice on this trip, and both times it had revolved around Dwight.

“Don’t you wish we could stay here forever?” Allie was asking, tilting her head back and letting the tips of her hair dip into the hot tub’s water as she looked up at the sky. The sun was braiding crimson into the blue as it set.

“Stay forever with two other chicks in a hot tub? Not that I don’t love you guys, but I’d only do it if one of you morphed into a lightly oiled Ryan Gosling,” Savannah said. “Wasn’t Pauline working on arranging that, by the way?”

Allie splashed her. “You know what I mean, silly. We’re all together, and this trip is so amazing. I don’t want it to end.”

“Amen to that, sister,” Tina said.

“So let’s do it every year,” Savannah said. “I mean, not like
this,
of course. But we could get together for a long weekend in South Carolina or something. Maybe rent a house in Hilton Head.”

“I’d love it,” Tina said. Maybe in another year, when the kids were older, it would be easier to get away. She could try to figure out a way to save money, maybe put aside a little bit every week.

“No, let’s promise to do it,” Allie said. She reached out and gripped Tina’s and Savannah’s hands. “It’s too easy to let good intentions slip by . . . look at how many years have already passed since college! Before we know it, it’ll be too late . . . We have to vow that we’re going to make it happen.”

“Okay,” Savannah said. “I’m in.”

“Tina?” Allie turned to look at her. “Please?”

“Of course,” Tina said. She frowned. “Allie? You’re kind of hurting my hand. Is everything okay?”

But before Allie could answer, Ryan came up the steps from the beach. His shirt was torn and he was breathing hard.

He stared at them, his eyes wide. “I just got mugged,” he said.

AFTER PAULINE HAD RUN
out of Therese’s hospital room, she’d found her Mercedes and pulled out of the parking lot, tossing a twenty-dollar bill at the attendant and speeding off without her change.

There was a big store with a silly name that she’d passed dozens of times on Rockville Pike, and she needed to get there now . . . it wasn’t far from Sibley Hospital.

It wasn’t quite ten a.m., late enough that rush hour had passed and the streets were relatively quiet. Pauline pulled up at a red light, looked around for incoming traffic and cops, then ran it.

She made it to the store moments before it opened and stood by the big glass doors while a sleepy-looking employee, a young guy with long dreadlocks, unlocked them. She stepped inside and looked around, blinking in the fluorescent lights, then grabbed a cart and began to load it, piling in tiny washcloths shaped like ducks and lavender-scented lotion. A CD player and a few CDs. Soft blankets in pink and yellow patterns. A mobile with brightly painted wooden animals dangling from its wires.

Everything was so clean and bright in here. The store seemed to promise that if you just bought this gadget or that outfit, you’d be guaranteed a perfect child. Pauline wondered if her mother had shopped at a place like this before Therese was born, dreaming about playing peekaboo with the child she was carrying. Maybe she’d bought one of those baby books with pages to document each accomplishment: the first time Baby crawled, the first words, the first steps . . . If so, all the pages must have remained blank.

More customers were in the store now—obviously pregnant women along with a few husbands—and Pauline veered past them as she raced through more aisles, filling her cart, then hurried to the blessedly empty checkout line and began unloading everything onto the counter.

“Sorry, but do you mind if I ask . . . ?”

Pauline turned to look at a woman standing in line behind her. The woman was dark-haired, probably in her midforties, and very slim. She wore jeans and a white oxford shirt and a tentative smile.

“Are you adopting, too?”

“Adopting?” Pauline repeated, as if she’d never heard the word.

The woman took a step back. “I’m sorry. I’m adopting a little girl from China. We’re going there next month. I just thought . . . Every other time I’ve been in here, all the other women seem to be pregnant and you’re buying everything . . .” Her cheeks were turning pink.

Pauline turned back around without a word and continued unloading her cart. She knew the woman meant no harm, but she didn’t have time to talk. She swiped her Visa card and accepted two bags from the cashier, then ran to her car and threw the bags into the backseat.

As she sped toward the hospital, she glanced at her watch: She’d been gone for only twenty minutes.

Wait a little longer, Therese,
she thought.
Please wait for me.

*   *   *

“There were two of them,” Ryan said. He took a long sip of Red Stripe beer and settled back in his chair.

“There wasn’t anyone else around, which is why I decided to walk down the beach in the first place,” he continued. “Just kinda spur of the moment, because it was so nice out. I’d gotten about a half mile away, to that little bend in the coastline, you know? As I come around it, I see these guys leaning over and looking at something in the sand. They’re kind of far off, but they keep gesturing and acting all excited, and I decide to go see what’s so interesting.”

Ryan paused while the waiter removed his dinner plate.

“So I get closer, and one of the guys calls out to me, ‘Come look at this!’ And I walk up to them.”

“Guess you found out what was so interesting to them,” Gio said. “A rich tourist.”

“One of them had a knife,” Ryan said. “I didn’t even see it until the other one grabbed me from behind.”

“Jesus.” Allie closed her eyes, as if to shut out the image.

“They wanted my wallet, but I wasn’t carrying it. So I took off my watch to distract them, because they looked really pissed off. But instead of handing it to the guy with the knife, I tossed it a few feet to his left, like it was a bad throw.”

“That was so smart! What made you think to do that?” Tina asked. Her eyes were fixed on Ryan, even though it was the third time she’d heard the story. Ryan had recounted it by the hot tub, but he’d rushed through the telling. He’d called the police, too, and had answered their questions over the phone. They were
coming by to take a report later, but Ryan said they didn’t seem in any hurry once they’d ascertained that no one had been hurt. Now that his shock had passed, he seemed to be relishing drawing out the story.

“My natural superhero instincts,” he said. “Okay, so I saw someone do it on TV once. This cop show. Anyway, both guys went to reach down for the watch, and that was when I jerked away. One of them grabbed hold of my shirt, but it tore and I got away. Man, did I fly down that beach. Usain Bolt couldn’t have caught me.”

“Did they chase you?” Tina asked.

“Nah,” Ryan said. “I turned back to look, but they were already gone.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re safe,” Tina said. “It’s so scary to think something like that could happen!”

The waiter had finished circling the table, refilling everyone’s glasses, and now he brought out a pie for dessert.

“Lemon-raspberry,” he said as he set down the generous slices. “Served warm, with homemade vanilla bean ice cream.”

“Pouf! And there goes the hour I spent on the StairMaster in the gym this morning,” Savannah said.

“Oh, my God . . .” Tina moaned around a mouthful. “I could write a poem about this crust!”

“Really?” Savannah said. “The only poem I know by heart is about the guy from Nantucket. Is yours along the same lines?”

Ryan snorted. “Come on, Tina! Now you’ve gotta tell us your poem,” he said.

But it was Savannah who spoke up: “There once was a pie from Nantucket.” She grinned and held up her fork. “It was so good on my fork I could suck it . . .”

Dwight’s voice cut into everyone’s laughter. “How did those guys know you’d be coming down the beach alone right at that precise time?” he asked. “You said they were already looking at
something when you came around the bend into view, right?”

Everyone turned to look at him.

“I never thought of that,” Allie said. “It’s almost like they were . . . waiting for you.”

“Oh, my God,” Tina breathed. Her fork clattered onto her plate. “You don’t think they were watching the house, do you?”

“No,” Dwight said, shaking his head. “That part of the beach is public. Anyone could be walking on it. More likely, they had a lookout hiding behind a palm tree who signaled them . . . or maybe they saw you walking that way and they ran ahead.”

“Maybe,” Ryan said. He frowned. “I didn’t think of it until just now, but there was something on the sand near them. A pair of binoculars. Funny the things you notice at times like that.”

“Ah,” Dwight said. “That explains it. They could see you long before you saw them.”

Savannah savored one final forkful of dessert, then forced herself to push away her plate. She could’ve eaten the entire pie, but she’d hate herself in the morning. For dinner, the chef had served seared sea diver scallops so tender her fork cut through them like butter, along with a sweet potato soufflé garnished with caramelized onions. But the bread was what was killing her—tonight’s was a crusty, fragrant rosemary spiked with sea salt. Served still warm from the oven, it was irresistible.

At least she’d work off some of the calories with the young crewman, she thought, glancing at her watch. She was surprised to note that it was later than she’d expected—a few minutes before nine. They’d settled into a European rhythm on this vacation; a slow start to the morning, siesta in the early afternoon, a late dinner . . .

Savannah drained her wineglass.

“That was fabulous,” she said. “I need to go freshen up, but I can’t bring myself to move.”

“This should help energize you,” Tina said, laughing as she refilled Savannah’s wineglass.

“Women sure do a lot of freshening up,” Ryan observed.

“It must be because they’re more naturally stinky than men,” Gio said, and Tina swatted him with her napkin.

Savannah was a little nervous about walking alone after what had happened to Ryan, but she’d be safe, she told herself. Mr. Red Bathing Suit would be waiting for her. Still, maybe she should let Allie and Tina know where she was going, just in case. And she’d bring her cell phone. Her Match.com date’s psycho eyes floated into her mind, and she shuddered.

Unless . . . Savannah frowned. What if the crewman blew her off? He was young and gorgeous and probably had women fighting over him. Maybe he’d met some teenage nymph in the last couple days and had decided to spend tonight with her instead.

Savannah dismissed the notion. Gary must’ve done a bigger number on her than she’d thought if she was doubting herself this way. Mr. Red Bathing Suit
was
interested—it couldn’t have been more obvious on the boat.

“You know what? I wonder if your watch is still there,” Gio was saying.

“You think?” Ryan asked.

“They wanted a wallet stuffed with cash; they wouldn’t carry around a watch you could identify in case the cops stopped them. And they had to have known you would’ve phoned in a description of them within minutes of getting away,” Gio said. “They were pros.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Ryan said. “So you think they just tossed it?”

“It was that waterproof watch you’ve been wearing all week, right?” Gio said. “Those things are a dime a dozen, especially
on an island. Now if it had been a”—he gestured to Dwight—“Rolex, they would’ve kept it. Worth the risk.”

Savannah looked back and forth at Dwight and Gio, comparing them, just as she had on that drunken night when they’d all gone swimming in their underwear. Their minds worked so differently, she thought. Dwight was drawn to the almost academic problem of how the crime had been executed, while Gio was interested in the practical aftermath of how to minimize the damage.

“We should go check,” Gio said.

“No,” Tina said. “It’s not safe.”

“Three of us guys, two of them,” Gio said. “Besides, they’re long gone.”

“So you and Dwight and Ryan think you’re going to take on knife-wielding thugs to get back a cheap watch?” Allie said. “Forget it.”

“You probably wouldn’t be able to find the watch in the dark, even if it was there,” Tina said.

“And no one else is going to find it tonight, either,” Allie said. “Going would be foolish.”

“Do you think maybe the wives don’t want us to go?” Ryan asked. “Just a hunch.”

“Call me a psychic, but I’m kind of getting that vague sense,” Gio said.

Tina rolled her eyes. “What’s the plan for tonight? Savannah?”

“Why are you looking at me?” Savannah asked. “I’m just sitting here not talking about going after the watch.”

“Because you’re the one who’s usually after us to party at night,” Tina said. “And you’re the one who may or may not have a surprise visitor.”

“If Gary shows up, do you want some time alone with him?” Allie asked. “Or should we all sit around and glare at him?”

“Come on, he’s not going to show up,” Savannah said. “Even if he’s not working tonight, it’d be really hard to get a flight on such short notice.”

“I bet he comes,” Tina said.

“Nah, he’s too chicken to face all of us after what he did,” Gio said.

“Oh, he’ll be here,” Ryan said. “Tail between his legs.”

Savannah flinched—did Allie and Tina have to tell their husbands
all
the details behind her separation?—but she recovered quickly.

“So two yeses and one no,” she said.