Four Friends (43 page)

“She’s right about that,” Connie said. “Kids. They won’t listen to a word you say, but they’ll end up acting like you acted while they were growing up. As a result I have two sons who are buying dilapidated real estate and working themselves to death to fix everything up. You’d think they’d have looked at our years of labor on this house, our bitter fights over what to do and how to do it, and choose another path.”

“Well, BJ is adamant,” Gerri said. “She doesn’t want any more charity. She has a decent job with her brother, who’s an electrician with a small company in Mill Valley, but there’s no way she can afford to rent here. I’ve been looking for another town somewhere around here where she can afford the rent and get a job.”

“Do you need a donation?” Connie asked.

There was silence for a moment. Gerri knew there was no point dragging things out. “No, Connie—it’s something much more personal. We wondered if you’d consider offering her a position as your property caretaker, with perhaps a break on the rental price of your guesthouse.” She shrugged. “Andy’s got her talons in Bob—she’s going to snatch him away from you. I understand that wouldn’t leave you without help, and I guess you’ve got lots of other family who could step in if you needed someone to look after the place—but that little house could take on BJ and her two kids for a good, long time. She could do it and keep her job with her brother—she could make sure your big house is tip-top, do whatever your caretaker routinely does. Any number of chores could be accomplished in the mornings, after work and school, on weekends. She could probably handle some housekeeping or errands or outside work, whatever is necessary. She’s young—thirty-five—energetic and tenderhearted. A real find. She’s doing a good job of turning her life around.”

There was a long silence. “My,” Connie said, clearly surprised, probably overwhelmed.

Gerri reached into her briefcase and withdrew a large envelope. “Don’t look at this until we leave, please. I printed out some newspaper articles and miscellaneous information about her that you’ll have to take into consideration. Her history is so shocking, we’ve all taken an oath not to share it—for the kids, of course. The kids should be free to have a normal life if they can. One thing that’s not in there that I’d like to point out—she has no ties to dangerous or felonious persons from her past. She comes from a solid, stable family, the only girl with three older brothers, all decent, law-abiding, hardworking and very supportive of her.”

“Her parents can’t help her?”

Gerri shook her head. “She can’t live in the same area as her abuser’s family and friends. I think you’ll understand when you graze through this stuff. One brother is here, the one with the business that employs her. The other two are still back in Fresno, but they come here often, whenever she needs a hand. It’s very important to her to earn her own way. She even has a fantasy that one day, when the kids are older, she’ll finish her education. Go to college.”

“How old are the kids?”

“A nine-year-old daughter, an eleven-year-old son.”

“But this is crazy. I shouldn’t consider something this bold without talking to Bob. Bob does know this woman, right?” Connie asked.

“He’s met BJ,” Andy said. “But he doesn’t know anything about her history. I honored the promise to keep it all quiet. But, Connie, Bob’s the last person I’d hesitate to tell. I’ve never known anyone like him when it comes to understanding and acceptance.”

“We shouldn’t say anything more, except that there are also references in this packet, people you can call to discuss her. And we vouch for her. We’d be willing to help if she’d take our help and we realize this is a real long shot. I mean, that guesthouse isn’t even empty yet!”

“Well, it is most nights,” Connie said with a sly smile, peering at Andy. “That makes me very happy, by the way. But are you two really ready to live together so soon?”

“Didn’t he tell you? He didn’t say it was a secret, so I guess it’s okay. He and Wendy have divorced now. He’s so thoughtful—he didn’t want me to feel he had any unfinished business. I swear, I didn’t ask him to do that.”

Connie’s mouth hung open slightly. She filled it with a bite of muffin. After she chewed and swallowed she spoke again. “I’ve been asking him for ten years if he was ever going to take care of that!”

“I guess he didn’t think it mattered. It was a complete surprise to me. But, he promised her they’d always be good friends. Isn’t that just so
Bob?
”

Connie nodded. “It’s so nice to have someone appreciate him as much as I do.”

“Well,” Gerri said, “I have to get to work. Listen, if you’d like a chance to meet BJ before you seriously consider this proposition, we’re having a neighborhood party next weekend and she promised to come back for it. She doesn’t know anything about this idea. We didn’t run it by her.” Gerri stood.

“Wait a minute? What about all these muffins?” Connie said.

“They freeze,” Gerri said with a smile. “And hopefully, you’ll have us back for coffee when we don’t have such an alarming agenda.” She put her hand out. “It was a real pleasure to meet you, Connie. Thanks for letting us knock you off your feet. No matter what comes of this, you’re a very good sport to even listen to us.”

A little reluctantly, Andy and Sonja also stood. Sonja reached across the table and tapped the envelope. “There’s something that isn’t in all those reports and articles. She saved my life twice. And she jogs with me every morning because it’s good for me. She doesn’t need me to go for a run—she’s been doing it for years. She drags me along because it’s good for
me.
She’s one of the best people in the world.”

“I’ll remember that,” Connie said, smiling.

“Listen, we understand it’s just not possible to ask you to consider anything more personal,” Andy said. “No matter what you decide, I’m going to try to take Bob off your hands, and I can’t wait to meet the rest of the family. I just hope you understand when it comes to a good friend, we have to step outside boundaries sometimes, take a risk, ask the unaskable.” She shrugged. “It’s just what you have to do if you believe in someone.”

Connie smiled gently. “I understand. Even if I can’t invite your friend to my home, I might think of something.”

“We’re up a creek,” Andy said. “She’s so proud. But—I guess that’s what got her through the worst of it.”

“Aren’t we all so lucky?” Connie said. “When you think about it? I mean, everyone has problems, but really we’ve all ended up being so lucky.”

“Well,” Sonja said, “square-footage-wise, I think you win.”

* * *

The block party came together nicely, even though it had depended almost entirely on Gerri and Andy making phone calls. The neighbors did all the work, but at least it was their usual work, divided equitably. There was an enormous amount of food, activities were planned out, prizes for winners were displayed and the neighborhood children were kept busy and happy.

There was one new feature this year. A booth under a huge banner—Phil Gilbert for San Francisco County District Attorney. Although it was another county, many residents of Mill Valley commuted to San Francisco to work and word about him could spread. Plus, it was one of their own moving up in the world. Phil spent much of the day accepting congratulations and taking campaign donations from people he’d known for years.

BJ and her kids showed up, ate, played, ran a few races, hung out with Sonja, Andy and Bob most of the time. George—who really didn’t enjoy gatherings with a lot of people—came around and stayed much longer than anyone expected. Sonja didn’t seem in any way uncomfortable with him there. In fact, he had his arm casually draped over her shoulders or around her waist quite often. Noel attended, though he hadn’t brought his good friends, apparently not quite ready for that. But he was very chummy with Bob. They ran an egg relay together and although they did miserably, they seemed to find it hilarious.

It was getting a little late in the afternoon, close to five, when Phil found Gerri and pulled her against him. “Sneaky,” he said. “You found a way to keep me from drinking too much at the block party. Turn it into a campaign rally.”

“I had nothing to do with that,” she insisted. “It was them. God, I already hate them, your committee. They’re so damned
bossy.
”

“I know.” He laughed. “But I don’t have anyone better in mind and I guess they get the job done. After all, they got Clay elected and re-elected I don’t know how many times. And we both know...what we know,” he said.

“Are you going to put on the Velcro suit and let them throw you against the dartboard?” she asked, grinning. “You know that’s my favorite part of the whole party.”

“I was hoping to skip that this year. Since I’m not half-tanked and stupid.”

“Aww. Would you do it for me? Because I really love that.”

“You have a mean streak.”

“I know, but I’ve tempered it a lot lately and now it’s just for fun.”

“We’ll see,” he said, because in point of fact, he’d let them hurl him off the Golden Gate Bridge if it made her laugh, tease and take her clothes off. He squeezed her and kissed her neck.

“I’m not sure this is normal,” she said to him. “We’re having sex like teenagers. I honestly don’t remember anything like this when we were much, much younger. When we were much less flabby and creaky.”

He laughed. “It may not look as pretty as it used to, but it sure works for me.”

“Look,” she said, stiffening enough to pull away slightly.

Across the park, a big gold SUV had pulled up and double-parked. Connie and a man Gerri assumed was her husband walked into the park. Andy and Bob spied them and greeted them.

Phil and Gerri watched while they seemed to chat awhile. Andy ran off and returned with BJ and again there was chatting. Then Connie reached for BJ’s hand. She held it while she talked to her.

“It’s happening,” Gerri whispered. “What I told you about. Connie’s guesthouse.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Phil cautioned, pulling her against his side.

But then BJ put two fingers in her mouth and let out a powerful whistle that brought her two children instantly to her side. BJ made introductions. Connie bent slightly to smile into their faces and say hello. Then they all went to the double-parked SUV—BJ and her kids, Andy and Bob.

“Oh, God,” Gerri said. “It’s really happening.”

“Stay calm,” Phil said. “Nothing has happened yet.”

“But Connie is taking them to her house, to see it, to talk about it. If she’d decided against it, she wouldn’t come to meet her, chat with her and then leave to think about it some more.”

“There will still be negotiating,” Phil reminded her. “It might not be right for them. I mean, it could be, but...”

“No! Andy and Bob will help make this happen. Oh, by the way, I said I’d give any help that BJ would accept. If that means subsidizing rent, I’m committed.” She turned to look into his eyes. “I feel strongly about that.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “If we can beat this dickhead Carter, there will be a raise involved.”

She laughed. “And I already spent it. That must make you very happy with me.”

“You spent it on keeping our guesthouse. I don’t know how long I can live with the idea of that little old lady who owns the place—who probably has a nanny cam or something in there—figuring out we have it just for sex. It’s kind of kinky, don’t you think? We could get a sailboat and hardly ever sail.”

“I’d be willing to talk about that. After the election.”

“The election is two years away!”

Gerri laughed wickedly.

“Listen, I have to come clean about something.”

“Oh, Jesus!” she gasped. “What have you done
now?
”

“I called Elizabeth,” he said. “I wanted to get to her before those political mongrels feasted on her. And she told me. How’d you find her?”

Gerri smiled and said nothing.

“You took her to lunch. You interviewed her?” he asked.

She nodded and smiled.

“You’re scary,” he said. “Whatever that was about, the affair, I’m cured.”

“Good, because I’m on the alert now. And I’m watching. By the way, how did
you
find her?”

“I have detectives.” He shrugged. “I have to find old employees all the time—to ask about cold-case files we’re pursuing. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“So,” Gerri said, “she told you everything?”

“I don’t know. How long was your lunch?”

“Two hours.”

“Then she didn’t tell me everything—our conversation was ten minutes, tops. All she said was she was glad to know we’d worked out whatever kinks had us messed up and to tell you hello.”

“I liked her,” Gerri said. “You’re not allowed to talk to her anymore...but I liked her. At least you have good taste. I thought I was going to meet some stupid bimbo in a nice package with no brains, no substance. That woman—she was pretty high quality.” She gave him a kiss. “I was actually impressed.”

“I love you, Geraldine. You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re a damn sexy pain in the ass. It turned out I couldn’t settle for less. It turned out I couldn’t settle at all. It has to be you.”

“Lucky for you, it’s going to be me. Only me. From now on.”

“I can live with that,” he said. “You’re all I ever wanted.”

“Phil,” she said, her voice husky and serious, “you’re the only man I’ve ever loved. I’m not about to give you up.”

* * * * *

Acknowledgments

THIS NOVEL WAS
a great joy and enormous fun to write. I wanted to look closely at extraordinary women facing ordinary problems, the kind that, if we haven’t faced them ourselves, our sisters or neighbors or best friends have. I’m never really sure how things are going to work out until I’ve written about them. To that end, I had a lot of early readers. I asked them all, how can I make this story richer? More real? Closer to the heart?

And my early readers, my friends and experts and advisors, gave me wealth. My deepest gratitude for help in shaping this story goes to:

Kate Bandy, PhD, Sharon Lampert, WHMP, Beki Keene, Jamie Prosser, Denise Nicholl, Lori Sokovan and Dee Mazzanti. Thanks also to Nancy Berland and Sarah Burningham for your valuable insights.