No matter how good Avery is in bed, it’s just not worth it. Basil took care of me.’’
Maybe Paula had turned into this bitter, sad person after her second marriage, I thought, trying to be charitable. Otherwise, I was having a really hard time imagining either of her husbands wanting to stay married to her.
‘‘Now, dear,’’ Marylou said while carrying a tureen of soup to the table. She began ladling a fragrant tomato-basil concoction into our soup bowls. ‘‘It doesn’t do much good to look backward. You’ve made your bed, so to speak, and you need to resign yourself to that.’’
‘‘The soup smells wonderful,’’ I said, and the words were hardly out of my mouth before Paula started speaking.
‘‘But that’s where you’re wrong, Marylou,’’ Paula said. ‘‘I can go back, and I have to. If I don’t, I know I’ll go right out of my mind.’’
I caught Sophie rolling her eyes, and I could hear the words as clearly as if she had spoken them aloud. That train’s already left the station, honey.
I tried not to react and choke on the delicious soup I had just spooned into my mouth. Swallowing hastily, I reached for my napkin to wipe my lips.
Marylou came back to the table and sat down. Picking up her spoon, she regarded Paula. ‘‘Now, what on earth do you mean by that, Paula? How can you go back?’’
Paula’s self-satisfied smile lit up her face. ‘‘Because Basil wants me back, that’s how. He still loves me—I know he does—and all I have to do is get Avery to agree to a divorce.’’
‘‘Basil has actually told you this?’’ Marylou asked, while Sophie and I looked back and forth at her and Paula like spectators at Wimbledon.
Paula shrugged. ‘‘Well, not in so many words.’’ The light in her face had dimmed for a moment, but now it came blazing back. ‘‘But I know him so well, you see, and I can tell what he’s thinking, even if he won’t say the words straight out. He wants me back. I know he does.’’
It seemed not to matter what anyone else thought. Paula had evidently convinced herself, and even Marylou’s obvious skepticism didn’t deflate her.
‘‘My goodness,’’ Marylou said as she jumped up from her chair. ‘‘I forgot the tea.’’ From the nearby counter she retrieved a pitcher, the sides specked with moisture. She went around the table, filling our glasses.
I thought about trying to change the subject, but I figured it was probably a lost cause. From even the brief acquaintance I had with Paula, I decided that any conversation in which she took part would revolve mostly around her.
Marylou settled back into her place. ‘‘Now everything becomes clear.’’ She fixed Paula with a basilisk stare. ‘‘Come clean, Paula. You want me along to help you with some harebrained scheme to win Basil back, right?’’
Paula flushed. ‘‘I wish you wouldn’t put it like that. You make me sound so self-centered, and you know I’m not really like that.’’
If she were waiting for Marylou to reassure her with a denial of those words, she was evidently going to wait a long time. Marylou just kept staring at her, and Paula began to wilt.
Taking pity on her, I decided to venture a question. ‘‘Along on what, Marylou? Are you going somewhere with Paula?’’
‘‘I was,’’ Marylou said, ‘‘but now I’m not so sure.’’
‘‘Please say you’ll still come,’’ Paula said, as pale now as she was red before. ‘‘I need your moral support. I just can’t go through with it on my own.’’
‘‘Come where?’’ Sophie said, not bothering to disguise the impatience in her voice.
‘‘Paula invited me to accompany her to a bridge retreat in the Hill Country,’’ Marylou said, ‘‘and I thought you and Emma might like to join us. I thought it would be restful to be out of the city and its heat and noise for a week, and this sounded absolutely perfect. I had no idea there was another side to the plan, but I suppose I should have guessed it when Paula told me that Basil will be the guest teacher for the week.’’
‘‘You could still all come and have a wonderful time,’’ Paula said. ‘‘I just know you could. As long as you’re there, I can draw courage from your presence. Being with you gives me strength, Marylou. It always has. You know that.’’
Marylou sighed as she got up from the table and began collecting the empty soup bowls. ‘‘I don’t know, Paula. I really don’t. I want some rest