“Pretty empty,” Jennifer commented when they entered Chase-
Pitkin. “I suppose it’ll pick up in a couple weeks, once school’s out
and summer officially hits, huh?”
Alex felt a sharp pang of loss when she thought of her teacher
friends. She missed her old job more than she cared to admit. She
thought about what the atmosphere would be like then, thick with
excitement and anticipation. Students and teachers alike would be
counting down the days. The kids would be entertaining visions of
lounging like blobs, sleeping until noon, and vegging in front of the
television, computer, or PlayStation. The teachers would be day-
dreaming of their first getaway since Easter break, nearly salivating
with expectation. Jackie often asked her if she missed teaching and
Alex always waved her off with a dismissive flick of her hand and a
Thy Neighbor’s Wife 67
look that said, Are you kidding me? Don’t be silly!
It was a big lie.
She sighed silently as they walked through the aisles, rational-
izing in her head. We all make our own beds and then we must lie
in them. Besides, I’m writing a novel! How many of my teacher
friends can say that?
“Here we go.”
Jennifer’s voice snapped her back to the present and Alex
blinked at her. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Something like this is what I was talking about. Think these
will work?” She held up some semi-circular brackets that seemed
like just the thing they needed.
“I think they’ll be perfect.” She grabbed a couple packages off
the peg. “Do you need anything while we’re in here?”
“Well…” Jennifer’s eyes wandered toward the giant paint dis-
play. “I’m in the process of redoing the master bedroom, at least in
my mind.” She smiled disarmingly and Alex felt she had no choice
but to smile back. “Would you mind terribly—?” Her voice trailed
off as she gestured hopefully in the same direction.
“Not at all.” Alex grinned. “Any ideas so far?”
Jennifer launched into the story about that morning and how
she’d stared at the room, then gone through stacks and stacks of
magazines trying to come up with the perfect room. Alex decided
then and there that she loved listening to Jennifer talk about her
design visions. She was so structured and certain of what she
wanted, how she expected something to look. It was very similar to
the way Alex herself developed a story in her head or in outline
form on paper before she actually started writing it. Jennifer
explained how she hadn’t been able to bring herself to throw away
any of the design magazines and Alex remembered seeing a few
scattered about the house during her visit. She had research books
and materials, and articles on writing that meant the same thing to
her.
Jennifer’s green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as they walked,
telling Alex of the eggplant accent pillows, the area rug she’d seen
in the Pottery Barn catalog that had just the right combination of
various shades of purple, and her desire to paint one wall in the
room a deep, rich plum, though she was leery of making that first
brushstroke.
“So what?” Alex teased her about her reluctance. “What’s the
worst that could happen?”
“The worst that could happen? It could look like complete and
total shit.”
“Again, so what? It’s paint. You can paint over it.”
“I know, but…”
68 Georgia Beers
“But what?”
“I don’t want people to think I don’t know what I’m doing,
even if I don’t.”
Alex squinted, noting the genuine concern in her eyes. “Jenni-
fer. Sweetheart. You’ve got a serious hang-up with the What Will
People Think thing, you know that?”
“Yes, I do.”
Then she took Alex’s arm and pulled her to the color display,
cleanly avoiding the subject.
Together, they collected what seemed to Alex to be an enor-
mous stack of paint squares in innumerable shades of purple. She
laughed at the thought of Jennifer spreading them all out on the
floor or the bed, which was exactly what she intended to do with
them.
She looked at a paint square and snorted. “Monster Mash? Are
you kidding me? I want to know how much somebody gets paid to
come up with these ridiculous names.” She picked up another one.
“Okay, guess what Introspection is.”
Jennifer furrowed her brow. “Um…green?”
“Purple.”
“Damn. Okay, how about Red Riding Hood?”
“If that’s not red, there’s something seriously wrong with the
people at Glidden.”
“It’s red.”
“My turn. Maestro.”
“Maestro? As in orchestra conductor?”
“That’s what I said.”
“Blue?”
“Nope. Purple.”
“Damn. Okay, here’s one. Malabar.”
“That’s a candy bar, isn’t it? Got to be brown.”
“Nope. Teal. And you’re thinking of a Mallomar.”
“Huh. Okay, here we go. Flair.”
“Orange.”
“Purple.”
“Damn.”
Alex watched Jennifer out of the corner of her eye, smirking
and waiting…waiting…
“Hey!”
And we have liftoff, Alex thought with a smile.
“Yours were all purple.”
“Why, yes. Yes, they were.” Alex laughed as Jennifer swatted
her with the sample swatch cards she had in her hand.
“Brat,” she said, joining in the laughter.
They continued in their mirth, rolling their eyes over the barely
Thy Neighbor’s Wife 69
discernible difference between Subtle Heather and Summer Orchid,
when a female voice interrupted them.
“Jennifer? Jennifer Remington? Is that you?”
Alex was facing Jennifer, but the woman’s voice came from
behind her. It was a pleasant enough sound, full of cheerful sur-
prise, and Alex was shocked to see Jennifer’s face drain of color.
She’d read such a description more than once in books, but she’d
never actually seen it happen until that moment. Jennifer looked as
pale as a ghost. Alex actually thought Jennifer might be sick right
there in the aisle.
Alex turned to the source of the voice and was met by an
attractive, smiling brunette who looked vaguely familiar, though
she couldn’t place her. She was roughly the same height as Alex,
with beautifully clear, olive skin and dazzling hazel eyes accented
by very dark lashes and brows. She was dressed casually in jeans
and a white T-shirt, her keys dangling from long, tapered fingers.
“Sarah.” Jennifer’s barely audible voice cracked. She cleared
her throat. “Sarah. Hi.”
“Wow. You look…” Sarah gave Jennifer a visual appraisal and
Alex raised an eyebrow, surprised to feel a tiny ping of jealousy.
“You look fantastic.”
“Thanks.” Jennifer nodded, still looking vaguely nauseous.
“You, too.”
“God, what are the chances of us running into each other? You
live around here now?”
“We have a summer home on the lake,” Jennifer replied quietly.
“That’s great. It’s beautiful there, huh?”
“Yeah.”
The conversation faltered, with Sarah gazing apprehensively at
Jennifer and Jennifer’s eyes darting from somewhere around
Sarah’s midsection to her shoes and back again. Alex stepped in
quickly.
“Hi. Alex Foster.” She stuck her hand out and Sarah took it,
smiling gratefully.
“Sarah Evans.”
“Nice to meet you, Sarah. How do you know Jennifer?”
Sarah’s eyes drifted back to Jennifer. “Oh. Um. We went to col-
lege together for a while. Seems like ages ago.” She chuckled ner-
vously. Then her expression seemed to change slightly and she
turned her focus fully onto Alex for the first time.
“And how do you know her?” Sarah tried hard, but unsuccess-
fully, to make it sound like a completely innocent question.
Well, isn’t this interesting? Alex thought, wondering exactly
what was going on and beginning to paint her own picture of the
situation. “We’re neighbors.”
70 Georgia Beers
“Oh. I see.” Sarah nodded, not really seeing anything.
Alex turned back to Jennifer, wondering if she was ever going
to speak again.
Jennifer finally looked up, but at Alex and not Sarah. “We
should go check out. I have to get back.” Looking at her hands, she
addressed Sarah. “It was great to see you again. You take care of
yourself, okay?” Without another word, she took the brackets from
Alex’s hands, turned, and headed off toward the cash registers.
Alex and Sarah stood awkwardly for several seconds, neither
sure what to do. Sarah was looking as green around the gills as Jen-
nifer as she stared off in the direction the blonde had taken and
Alex saw her swallow hard.
Before a word could be said, another woman came up from
behind Alex and touched Sarah on the arm. She was small and thin
with reddish hair and a kind face. “Did you find the paint thinner?”
Her voice seemed to jerk Sarah back to the present and she
blinked several times. She smiled at the redhead, but her eyes had a
hint of sadness in them. “Um, yeah. It’s right over here.” She
pointed to her left, then met Alex’s gaze. “It was nice to meet you,
Alex.”
“Same here,” Alex replied, watching them walk away, the red-
head’s hand on the small of Sarah’s back. Alex hurried to catch up
with Jennifer.
* * *
They were halfway home before the color started to resurface
beneath Jennifer’s skin. She was utterly silent and simply stared out
the window. Alex wasn’t the kind of person who was bothered by
silence, but when it was of the uncomfortable variety, it made her
fidgety, so she tried hard to break it.
“Jennifer? Are you okay?”
“Mm hmm.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Mm hmm.”
Well, this is working nicely, Alex thought, then decided to take
a different approach.
“Remington, huh? Is that your maiden name?”
Jennifer turned and looked at her for the first time since they’d
left the store. “What?”
“She called you Jennifer Remington.”
“Oh. Yeah. Maiden name.” She went back to gazing out the
window.
Thy Neighbor’s Wife 71
“You do realize that I will now be forced to make endless Rem-
ington Steele references, don’t you?”
“Excuse me?” This time when she looked at Alex, there was a
flicker of amusement on her face.
“You know. Remington Steele. Only one of my favorite shows
growing up. God, I had such a crush on Stephanie Zimbalist.” Alex
let her voice drift off dreamily. The corner of Jennifer’s mouth
twitched slightly and Alex grinned, seeing that she was starting to
come out of her funk. “I’m afraid there’s no way I can now know
that your last name was Remington and not make an 80’s pop refer-
ence. It’s just not possible.”
“Well, if I remind you of Remington Steele, does that mean I
get to call you Laura Holt?” Jennifer asked, playing along much to
Alex’s delight. “You’d have to be my faithful sidekick.”
“Sidekick?” Alex gasped in horror. “Ha! How dare you insult
me like that? Laura was the brains of the operation, you know that.
Steele was actually the sidekick.”
“Only in Laura’s eyes. As far as everybody else was concerned,
Steele was the boss.” She cocked her head to the side as if contem-
plating something. “Hmm. Yeah, okay. I think I can live with being
the boss and ordering you around. I’m okay with that.”
Alex grumbled and muttered to herself, which made Jennifer
laugh. The sound brought great relief for both of them and Alex let
go of her worry. As she pulled into the driveway and put the car
into park, she turned to Jennifer. “Hey, Ms. Steele?”
“Yes, Ms. Holt?”
“If you ever decide you need to talk about Sarah, I’m right
here, okay?”
Jennifer’s eyes softened, her thanks clearly written in their blue
depths. “I’ll remember that.”
Chapter
Nine
Dinner at Jackie and Rita’s house was something that Alex
looked forward to each and every time. Rita was an absolute magi-
cian in the kitchen, whipping up culinary delights that were actu-
ally healthy and delicious at the same time. That was something
Alex often classified as impossible, at least it never seemed to hap-
pen in her kitchen. Cooking was not something she was good at,
nor was she fond of it. She preferred to be fed by friends like Rita,
people who actually knew their way around a kitchen and took pity
on her because she didn’t.
Only when she had passed thirty had Alex begun to realize a
certain fact. Nobody told her when she was young that as she got
older, she’d allow important relationships to drift away because
she’d let herself get too absorbed in things like work. Her friendship
with Jackie meant way too much to her to let that happen, so when
things had started to get chaotic in their lives, the two women made
a pact to ensure that they stayed in touch, even when life got crazy.
Having dinner together on a regular basis helped to fulfill that
promise. So, once every week or two, Alex went to have dinner with
her best friend’s family.
As she drove, she thought about how spending time with Han-
nah was another benefit of their dinners. Although Alex was the