Wait for the Rain (3 page)

When they reached the airport exit, Carol turned on her blinker and carefully navigated off the freeway, then slowed to a stop in front of departures. Before Daphne even unbuckled her seat belt, Carol jumped outside and popped the back hatch of the SUV, then pulled out Daphne’s suitcase. “Sweet bejesus, you weren’t kidding about overpacking,” Carol said with an exaggerated groan. “This thing weighs a ton! Did you pack Emma in here?”

Daphne laughed. “Get back in the car. It’s
freezing
out here. And you’re wearing a nightgown!”

Carol waved a dismissive hand in front of her, batting away a few snowflakes in the process. “Nonsense. I may not be the most stylish cow in the barn, but I know a thing or two about good old-fashioned manners. Now give me a hug good-bye before I have icicles hanging off my nose. If I skedaddle, I can make it home in time to take a hot shower
and
walk the pooch before
Good Morning America
comes on. See how exciting my suburban life is?”

Daphne gave her neighbor a squeeze. “Your suburban life is wonderful. Thank you so much for the ride.”

“When you get back, I’ll take you to Jeni’s for a double scoop of salty caramel, and you can fill me in on the details. It will be your belated birthday celebration.”

Daphne winced. “Ugh, don’t remind me about my birthday.”

Carol wiggled her index finger. “Darlin’, if I were turning forty again, I’d be jumping for joy. Now scat.” She shooed Daphne away, then climbed back into the cabin of the SUV and tucked her nightgown inside before shutting the door.

Daphne waved good-bye as Carol drove away, then turned on her heel and headed into the airport, the heated air quickly enveloping her like a bear hug. She removed her wool coat and knitted hat, tucked the hat into her oversized tote bag, then rolled her suitcase toward the check-in counter. As she waited in line, she felt a stirring of gratitude for having a woman like Carol as a neighbor, especially since she and Brian had split up. Carol had been very good to her, always there to listen, never to prod or judge, unlike the chilly vibe she’d felt from several of the mothers at Emma’s school, a standoffishness that subtly suggested that being a single parent was somehow an assault on the cherished institution of the suburban nuclear family.

She thought about Carol’s question, about why so much time had passed since she and Skylar and KC had gotten together. Daphne crinkled her nose. When was the last time she’d seen them? Had it really been the Chicago weekend ten years ago? It couldn’t be, could it? Skylar had extended several invitations over the years, but Daphne had always found a reason to refuse them.

Not that she didn’t want to see her friends.

Of course she did, right?

She knew Skylar and KC were just as busy as she was, or at least she figured they were. That’s what she told herself. They were all so busy, their lives so different. She still considered them to be her best friends, but the truth was, she rarely talked to them anymore. Outside of Emma’s universe, for years now Daphne had barely talked much to anyone. With all the carpooling back and forth for all the activities, not to mention all the bake sales, fund-raisers, and PTA meetings over the years, there never seemed to be enough time to keep in touch with the outside world.

She sighed.
I’m still making excuses.

It hadn’t happened overnight, but Daphne had gradually brought that isolation upon herself, reasoning that being a good mother meant putting her own interests aside and focusing on what Emma needed, even though that chapter of her life would eventually end.

She looked up at the departures display and had an unsettling thought.

Where am I going?

Chapter Three

“Hey, hot stuff! Glad to see you made it in one piece.” Skylar set her drink down and adjusted the designer sunglasses perched on top of her head, then stood up and held her arms open wide. “Now get over here and embrace me.”

Her nerves fluttering even more than she expected them to, Daphne let go of her suitcase and hugged her friend, suddenly feeling like she might cry. She hadn’t realized until right then how much she’d missed having Skylar in her daily life, how much she missed being able to share her deepest secrets—no matter how silly or foolish—with a friend who never made her feel silly or foolish.

Please still like me,
she thought.

Not appearing to notice the conflicting emotions coursing through Daphne’s psyche, Skylar returned her hug with affection and topped it off with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s really good to see you,” Skylar said as they released each other. “I can’t believe it’s been ten years. We have so much to catch up on, I don’t know how we’re going to fit it all into just a few days.”

“I know. It’s hard to believe Chicago was that long ago already,” Daphne said. She felt her heart beating faster than it should be and willed it to slow down.
Relax. You can do this. She’s your friend.

“Can you believe we’re forty?” Skylar said, her green eyes expertly framed by black mascara. “I’d like to think we haven’t aged a day since our last trip together, but we both know I’d be lying.”

Daphne smiled, grateful to see that Skylar’s straightforwardness hadn’t diminished. For an instant she thought about mentioning the eye cream on her bathroom counter but decided not to. Skylar looked older than when Daphne had last seen her, but she wasn’t any less pretty, at least in Daphne’s opinion. She did, however, look more confident. It was clear she was a woman who knew what she wanted—and usually got it.
Why can’t I be like that? I used to be like that.

Daphne clenched her hands into fists.
Stop it. You’re here to have fun, don’t ruin this for yourself.

She looked at Skylar’s head. “I’ve never seen your hair so straight and shiny. It’s like a shampoo commercial.” Daphne knew the comment was a bit shallow for the circumstances, but she couldn’t help herself. She didn’t want Skylar to know she was mentally walking on eggshells, so she overcompensated.

Skylar smoothed a hand over her auburn locks. “That’s because I ironed it this morning. Just watch, in this humidity it’ll be a jungle in no time. I’ve decided that my new goal in life is to make enough money to have a stylist travel with me to blow out my hair every day.”

Daphne laughed. “
That’s
your life goal?”

Skylar shrugged. “Among others. I like to keep things interesting. How was your flight?”

“Uneventful, which is just the way you want a flight to be, I suppose. I slept most of the first leg. How about yours?”

Skylar rolled her eyes. “Ugh, a nightmare. I was in London last week and was supposed to fly here directly from there, but then at the last minute I had to go to Paris for a conference, then back to New York for another two days of meetings. I’m exhausted. You have no idea how much I need this vacation.”

Daphne remembered that Carol had made a similar comment on the ride to the airport, how in her eyes
Daphne’s
life was hectic. What would she think of Skylar’s schedule? Ferrying around a teenager and working a few hours a week at a flower store seemed utterly mundane in comparison to the professional canvas Skylar was painting.

Skylar resumed her seat on the barstool and patted the empty one next to her. “So enough chitchat. How are you doing? I haven’t seen you in the flesh since you and Brian split up.”

Daphne sat down too. “I’m doing great, just really busy. You know how it is, there never seems to be enough hours in the day to fit everything in.” She spoke faster than she normally did, but in spite of that she was surprised at how nonchalant she sounded. When she and Skylar had been roommates, she’d never been able to hide her true feelings like this.

Skylar sipped her drink. “I’m glad to hear it. I’m still getting used to the fact that things didn’t work out between you two. The way he approached you at that wine bar that first nigh
t . . .
I gues
s . . .
I really thought it was going to stick.”

Daphne felt a stabbing sensation in her chest at the still-vivid memory of that first encounter with Brian, at what it represented, and suddenly she felt like she might cry. She wasn’t prepared to deal with her emotions right now.

Please don’t cry. Don’t let her see what a mess you are.

She forced a smile that she hoped seemed genuine.
“I’m doing fine, really.”

“How long has it been since you called it quits?” Skylar asked.

“A little more than two years. The divorce took a while to get sorted out, but that’s final now.”

“So you jus
t . . .
grew apart?” The look in Skylar’s eyes suggested she wanted to deepen the conversation. Both Skylar and KC had reached out by phone multiple times over the years, but Daphne almost always replied by e-mail, unwilling—or unable—to open up to her friends about her crumbling marriage, about the effect it was having on her. When she’d broken the news that she and Brian were parting ways, she’d made it clear that infidelity hadn’t played a role, but she hadn’t shared much more than that, not wanting to confess that they’d been unhappy for years.

Now Skylar was knocking on the door once again, but Daphne couldn’t bring herself to open it. She was too afraid her stylish, successful friend would feel sorry for her, and she felt sorry enough for herself.

“Pretty much,” she said with a shrug. That’s all she’d really told anyone about the reason for the split. And it was tru
e . . .
in a sense. What Daphne hadn’t been able to articulate—or admit—was that the main reason she and Brian had drifted apart was because neither of them was ever going to be the person the other needed for the marriage to work.

Brian was meant to be with a woman who was perfectly content being a wife and stay-at-home mom, one who dreamed about nothing beyond the white picket fence, one who didn’t need anything else to be completely fulfilled. While Daphne loved being a mother and
did
want the white picket fence, she also wanted more than that. She needed a partner who wanted to share the caregiver role with her, one who supported her ambitious side, one who encouraged her to pursue the budding career she’d put on hold to have Emma.

It was a mismatch from the beginning, but at the time Daphne was too young, too naïve, too blind, to see it.

And now it was too late.

How had she wasted all those years, given up so much?

For what?

Her mind turned back to the cold, rainy Friday night when she and Brian had finally decided to pull the plug. Emma was sleeping over at a friend’s house, so Daphne had made a reservation for two at their favorite restaurant, hoping an evening out together might rekindle the spark between them, might help them rediscover the connection that had been gone for so long that she could no longer remember what it felt like. Not that she and Brian ever fought that much. They bickered on occasion as every couple does, but for the most part they got along fairly well. The fundamental difference between them was deeper than either of them wanted to admit, so almost without realizing what they were doing, they centered their relationship around the one thing they both cherished: their child. They continued to communicate about the day-to-day logistics of running the household, an approach that let them keep their family intact without acknowledging that something between
them
was dying.

Until that rainy night.

Midway through dinner, after yet another conversation focused nearly entirely on Emma, Brian had looked up from his pasta, a weariness in his eyes, and said, “What are we doing, Daph?”

She had no response, because she didn’t know either. She’d just stared blankly back at him, wondering how they’d gotten to this place, wondering what had happened to them, wondering how she could be
married
to this ma
n
. . .
yet feel so completely alone.

That night he’d packed a suitcase.

“Daphne?”

The sound of Skylar’s voice yanked Daphne back to the present. She blinked and looked at her friend.

“I just want you to know that I’m really sorry it didn’t work out,” Skylar said.

Daphne kept the smile on her face. “Thanks, but that’s all in the past now. I’m doing great,
really
great actually. Life goes on, right?”
Where is my life going? Please don’t cry.

“How’s Emma?”

“She’s doing wonderfully. She’s almost as tall as I am now, can you believe it?” Daphne felt a surge of emotion at the thought of her daughter, a mixture of love and heartache as she realized Emma, Brian, and Alyssa would be well on their way to Utah now. She briefly looked over Skylar’s shoulder, unable to maintain extended eye contact, but her smile remained frozen. “She’s got a lot on her plate, juggling school and friends and all her extracurricular activities; you know how teenagers are. She’s spending this week at a resort in Park City with Brian.”
And his fiancée. Why can’t you say it? Brian is getting remarried. Just say it! Just tell her!

“How old is she now?” Skylar asked.

“Who?”

Skylar looked confused. “Emma.”

Daphne swallowed. “Yes, of course, I’m sorry. She’s fifteen.”

Skylar slightly narrowed her eyes. “Daphne, are you okay?”

Daphne nodded. “Yep, I’m good, just a little tired from getting up at the crack of dawn.” Knowing she wouldn’t be able to fight off the tears much longer if she didn’t change the topic of conversation, she cleared her throat and pointed to a suitcase propped against the bar. The bright green bag had a sticker across it that said, “Running Is Cheaper Than Therapy.” “I’m guessing that’s KC’s?”

Skylar laughed. “You think it’s
mine
? My therapist would love that.”

“Where is she?”

“I’m right here, sweet cheeks.” Daphne felt a tap on her shoulder. She swung around to see her much shorter friend, smiling and freckled and looking as tan as if she’d already been on the island for a week. She was wearing a light blue baseball hat that read “USA Volleyball
,
” her sandy-blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. Like Skylar, she looked older than the last time Daphne had seen her, with noticeable crinkles around her eyes when she smiled.

Before Daphne could speak, KC practically hurled herself forward and wrapped her tiny arms around Daphne’s torso. “I’m just thrilled that we’re all together again. Thrilled! Poor Max has had to listen to me babble on and on about this trip for months. I think he’s as happy as I am that it’s finally here just so he can get some peace and quiet with the babies. He practically pushed me out of the car at the airport this morning.”

“The babies?” Daphne asked.

“Martha and Oreo, our kitties.” KC gestured to her purse. “Want to see a video? Cutest things you’ve ever seen.”

Skylar sipped her drink. “We’ll take your word for it.”

Daphne smiled at KC. “I’ve missed your random chatter. It makes me think of all those late nights we had in the dorms, talking about everything under the sun.”

“And sometimes until the sun came up.” KC pointed to the ceiling. “Think how many pizzas we must have eaten.”

The memory of those long-ago marathon conversations, which bounced effortlessly from topic to topic, from romance and religion to politics and pop culture, stirred up more internal angst for Daphne.
Why don’t I engage with people like that anymore? What happened to me?

“Where have you been?” Skylar asked KC. “Were you doing laps waiting for Daphne’s flight to get in? Or maybe some sit-ups?”

KC smiled and put her hands on her hips. “You mock me now, but we’ll see who’s laughing when I make you two do my beach workout with me.”

Daphne adjusted her tote bag over her shoulder. “Beach workout? I don’t think I like the sound of that.” She looked at Skylar. “Do you like the sound of that?”

Skylar set down her glass and put her hands behind her ears. “I’m sorry, what was that? My only form of exercise these days is exercising selective hearing.” She stood up and clapped her hands together, then gestured to the bartender for the bill. “Okay, ladies, let’s get this party started. I’m
so
excited to be the hell out of Manhattan. It’s absolutely arctic there right now.”

Daphne held up the black coat she’d been carrying in the crook of her arm. “Same goes for Columbus. What am I going to do with this thing all week?”

KC grinned. “It was eighty-two when Max chucked me out of the car on his way to go surfing.”

“Are you teaching fitness classes at the beach now?” Daphne asked.

KC nodded. “I’m still mostly at the gym, but now I also run an outdoor boot camp on Tuesday and Thursday mornings. The sand is great because it’s low impact but high resistance.”

“I’m highly resistant to this conversation,” Skylar said. “If you seriously plan to do some crazy-ass workout while we’re here, I may have to lay my towel out on the other side of the island from you. I haven’t been to the gym in ages.” She pointed to her rear end. “If you want proof, feel free to have a squeeze.”

KC’s eyes lit up, and she looked from Skylar to Daphne. “I was kidding before, but maybe I
could
lead you both in a beach class while we’re here! That would be so fun.”

“My selective hearing is acting up again,” Skylar said as she reached for her phone. “Sorry, just have to quickly check my e-mail.”

“I’m in okay shape, but I definitely couldn’t keep up with you,” Daphne said.

KC patted her on the shoulder. “Sure you could! Many of my students are divorced women in their thirties and forties, so you’re right in my demographic.”

Daphne felt another twinge deep inside.
I’m a demographic now. I’m a cliché.

“That’s not a criticism, not at all,” KC quickly added when she saw the look on Daphne’s face. Skylar, who was now typing furiously into her phone, didn’t seem to notice. KC kept her hand on Daphne’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “My divorced clients are usually in fantastic shape, or well on their way there. Most of them are back in the dating scene—or easing their way there—so they want to look and feel their best. I think that’s a positive thing. Not that you need help in any of those departments.” She removed her hand and placed it on her own cheek. “Am I talking too much? I feel like I’m talking too much. I hope I’m not putting my foot in my mouth here.”