to freshen up the look a little bit. It’s just all starting to look shabby, especially compared to the new place they’re building across the lake.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a lot to keep you busy then. If I were a good daughter, I’d help more. But now I’ve got the move to deal with, and the practice to keep track of, and the dental office to re-do . . . ”
“And the baby in the oven,” Laurel reminded her.
“Well, there’s that,” Virginia agreed.
With a shrug, Laurel went on. “It’s fine. You gotta do what you gotta do.” Besides, it’s not like I have anything better to do. She tried not to let bitterness creep into the back of her mind.
Virginia rolled over onto her back. “It’s a risk, you know, moving back here. Not a financial risk — I think the dental practice combined with the orthodontics Stuart wants to develop will be a great success, but I don’t want to get embroiled in all that Mom and Dad mess like you have.
“I don’t mean to criticize you; honest I don’t. It’s just . . . it’s just not for me. I can’t deal with them.”
Laurel shrugged. She’d like to get out of that mess too, but somebody had to help out, and somehow it had fallen to her. She supposed it was just her lot in life.
Chapter 13
The next week saw the arrival of James Marshall at the lake. Virginia and Stuart were excited about seeing their old childhood friend, and Carrie and Heather felt all the anticipation that the appearance of a rich, single guy could bring. Plans were made for a celebratory dinner at the Brownsboro Inn, the nicest restaurant in the local small town. There they would meet up with Susan and Gary, James’s sister and brother-in-law, who had recently moved to the area. Laurel dreaded that first meeting with James, but it ended up going well enough.
She waited along with Stuart’s sisters, who were already on the deck at Pendleton Place, as they were beginning to call it. Before long, they spied a black BMW snaking its way up the mountain road. The excitement from the girls was palpable, though Laurel kept her emotions hidden from view.
“I wonder if he’s as handsome as his picture in Forbes,” Carrie wondered aloud. “I don’t remember him being that attractive when we were growing up. Didn’t he used to clean tables at your father’s restaurant, Laurel?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, he did — one summer.”
“Was he good-looking then?”
“I suppose.”
“Well, you know they always stage the photos in magazines to put people to their best advantage,” Heather sniffed. “But I always say money makes men better-looking.
Carrie laughed.
Heather went on, “I’d be more interested in whether he has any personality at all or if he’s just one of those engineering geeks who can only talk about computers and Star Trek.”
“He’s not like that,” Laurel said in a quiet voice.
“Oooh, really?”
“He’s a musician, actually . . . a guitarist. The software his company developed records and mixes music tracks.”
“How interesting,” Carrie remarked. “Maybe he’ll play the guitar for us. I wouldn’t mind having a millionaire serenade me around a summer night campfire.” She giggled.
They heard the crunch of gravel down below and the slam of a car door. The sound of men’s voices and warm greetings drifted up when Stuart and James saw each other for the first time in several years. The door below opened and banged shut. Laurel felt her heart beating against her ribs, but she forced a neutral expression and followed the girls inside to face her past.
“Heather! Carrie! Laurel!” Stuart called up the stairs. “Come say ‘hi’ to James. The prodigal friend has returned!”
The girls bounded forward with welcoming embraces and exuberant hellos.
“And of course, you remember Laurel.”
James stepped around the girls, and Laurel had to stop herself from gasping. He looked good . . . really good. He’d always been tall, but he had filled out the way men do in their late twenties. His shoulders were broader than she remembered, but his hair was still that rich brown color; she had forgotten how pretty it was. He looked at her with those captivating eyes she remembered so well, but in them, she saw only intellectual interest. There was no anticipation, no emotion. Well, that was to be expected, she told herself. He had surely moved on years ago from whatever attachment he had to her.
With a brief smile, he said hello, and made a vague ‘good