Page 64 of House of Clouds


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He took her hand and squeezed it. “Thanks.”

Twenty-Nine

The aroma of roasting chicken and herbs filled the air, making Kate’s stomach grumble as she grasped her wine glass tightly and nervously played with the tassel on her blouse. The deep, soft sofa seemed to envelop her, and its oversized cushions and ornamental pillows that surrounded her increased the feeling. Even with her tall frame, her feet only just touched the floor. The matching loveseat didn’t seem like a better proposition, and the small hairless cat curled up on the little lap blanket on one side had confirmed it.

Soft voices from the kitchen drifted into her and she wondered what Bunny and Mark were talking about. Her probably. The unlikely invitation had been reissued the day before, just after Ethan had left, and she had no excuse now to refuse it. In the end, she thought she would just get it over with and had offered to come that night if it was convenient. Mark had pounced on her offer, as if he thought he had to pin her down as soon as possible in case she got away.

Mark came through from the kitchen, a beer in his hand. He was wearing chinos and a button-down shirt under a tan crew-neck sweater. He gave her a big smile and took a seat beside the cat, who lifted his head and gave him a disdainful look, before resuming its position. The house was a recently remodeled ranch house, the lines now smooth and sleek on every bit of trim, wall colors full of slate grays, taupes, and eggshells, with the furniture to match. Over the dining table at the other end of the open room, she’d noted the angular chrome light fitting that had just that amount of bling that she knew exactly who’d picked it out.

“I’m sorry about your dad, by the way,” he said. “We were at the funeral, but Bunny wasn’t feeling well, so we went home right after.”

She nodded and said, “Thanks,” unsure what else to say.

“I used to see your dad in the hardware store all the time, these last few years. But I always liked him. He was so cool with us, considering all we got up to.” He shook his head.

He meant what Missy got up to. What she inevitably dragged them into, her forcible personality and her love of pushing the boundaries a dangerous combination. Kate made herself smile. “He was cool, in his way.”

“Remember that time…” His words were broken off by Bunny’s entrance, a wine glass in her hand. “Everything all right, babe?” asked Mark.

Bunny’s navy pants, paired with scooped pale blue shell under a cashmere wrap, seemed to suggest she’d moved onto to her mother’s country club circle’s shopping venues.

Bunny nodded to Mark, a neutral expression on her face. “Of course, it is.”

She moved to the loveseat, picked up the cat, kissed his head and murmured a few endearments to him and sat down next to Mark, placing the cat on her lap. A cloud of Chanel No. 5 wafted over to Kate.

Bunny turned to Kate and gave her a stiff smile. “Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I only got home from work an hour ago.”

Kate nodded, feeling at a loss. What did Bunny want her to say? They were the ones who had been pressing her to have dinner with them. Though to be fair, it was probably Mark. She looked over at him, her brow arching ever so slightly. It was almost automatic, this reaction to Bunny. The three of them had always shared this understanding, this silent mockery of the drama queen of all drama queens. A mean drama queen was the actual fact, one they labeled as the queen of the “Heathers.”

“How are your parents, Mark?” asked Kate, searching for neutral territory.

“Good, thanks,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling. “Dad’s retired from the company now, busy being a bigwig in the Lions Club, and Mom is getting really active in the homeless charity project the country club is running.” He patted Bunny’s hand. “In fact, she’s working with Bunny, who’s the chairperson. Bunny’s raised loads of money for worthy causes in the last few years.”

His voice was full of pride, and Kate had to look away, studying the wine in her glass.For Christ’s sake, she thought.How can he sit there mouthing such platitudes to her, of all people?She bit her lip, took a few deep breaths and looked up. “Great,” she said, her tone flat.

“They’re important causes. It makes a difference,” said Bunny, her tone defensive, belligerent.

“I’m sure it does,” said Kate. She made herself take another deep breath, resisting the urge to check her watch.

“I know you don’t think much of the country club or anyone who goes there,” said Bunny, her voice rising what seemed like an octave, “but it does some really good things for the community. It isn’t all about pleasure.”

“And golf,” muttered Kate.

“What?” said Bunny, her eyes flashing.

“Kate,” said Mark, frowning.

“Sorry,” said Kate. “I didn’t mean that.” She shrugged. “You’re right. It was never my thing. But who am I to say anything about what it’s like now?”

Bunny pursed her lips. “It’s always been involved in supporting community concerns.” She smiled at Mark, her expression softening. “And it’s a good opportunity for Mark to network.” She glanced at Kate. “You know he works for Daddy now at his investment firm.”

Kate gave Mark a stunned look. She hadn’t known. She hadn’t thought to ask Mark where he worked, or anything else about how he’d spent the time since she’d last seen him. She swallowed back the bile in her throat at the thought of what Missy would think about what he’d chosen to do, let alone where and with whom he’d chosen to do it. In the end, Kate nodded, resolving to do or say nothing beyond the basic pleasantries.

“You’ve done wonders with this house,” said Kate. “It’s lovely.”

Bunny took a deep breath and launched into the description of the renovations she’d overseen in the year since they’d bought it, just after they’d married. Kate was grateful that Bunny’s love of design and decor had her waxing lyrical about every minute detail, so that she could just nod occasionally and tune it out while she counted down the hours until she could leave. Two, she decided. She would give it two. Surely no one could fault her for that.

* * *

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