The View from Alameda Island - Robyn Carr Page 0,41

for Lauren’s plate and began to serve the food. “Darling, I know a lot of men like Brad. He’s pretty obvious...”

“Oh?” Lauren asked.

“I think Brad likes attaching himself to people he thinks are important. He practically drools when he is introduced to someone he thinks might be important. Or maybe that’s too judgmental of me. Maybe he likes being associated with men like Andy because Andy does so much for the community. But there is no hiding the fact—Brad is not an easy man.”

“How would you know that?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Sylvie handed her the plate and began to serve her own. “I’ll be honest with you, if I can trust you to keep it to yourself.”

“Oh, believe me—I’m not talking to Brad! And I’d never say anything that might betray you.”

“Well then. It’s very easy. I’ve known him for fifteen years and I knew immediately. He’s not gracious to anyone he perceives as beneath him. He’s impatient with servers, valets, groundskeepers, bartenders, laborers. Andy put himself through college working at the docks. He started his first company on government grants. I don’t think Brad would have paid him much notice then. Do you?”

“Brad’s family was wealthy,” Lauren said. “He had a lot of advantages...”

“Neither of us came from money. I worked as a waitress, then eventually a teacher. We worked hard. Our kids had jobs in high school. It’s true, we’ve been very fortunate lately, but it’s still fresh to us. Which explains Andy’s interest in the less fortunate.”

Lately? Lauren thought. She couldn’t remember a time the Emersons weren’t extremely influential in San Francisco society. But then, they were now in their seventies. They had a son nearly as old as Lauren.

“Always remember this, darling—people will be judged by how they treat the most important person in the room and the least important. That will tell you everything you need to know about a person.”

For a while as they ate, Sylvie talked about the early years of her marriage, when the children were small, and times were lean and sometimes terrifying. One of the kids would get sick and they worried about medical costs, not to mention the difficulty of working out childcare so they could both work. It was a struggle to even find family time. But eventually, when the kids were in their twenties, Andy’s company was doing well and they took it public in a big stock offering that shocked their wildest dreams. After that, Andy sold and started a new company, also a success. But the years of struggle were not only remembered clearly by Sylvie and Andy, but also by their children.

Lauren talked a little about her young years and how amazing she thought it that a successful young surgeon would want to marry her. But those early years of marriage with two babies were not easy; Brad was always busy, always on call, leaving early, coming home late. He was high-maintenance from the first day, but she hadn’t expected life with a doctor to be a paid vacation.

Their brunch lasted over two hours. Then Lauren said she’d better get out of Sylvie’s hair.

“I want us to schedule another brunch or a lunch right now,” Sylvie said. “Do you have your calendar?”

“I do,” she said, pulling out her phone.

“Two weeks? Three? And are Sundays good for you? They are for me. If the family’s coming over, they don’t pester me in the morning.”

“I would love it, but Sylvie...how are you so sure you can believe me? Trust me?”

“I’ve known Brad for a long time,” she said. “And I’ve also known you. I think I’m right about you. And when all your friends run and hide, you’ve got me. So—two weeks?”

“Perfect,” she said, smiling.

* * *

In the third week of separation, she had a couple of decorator shelves she wanted mounted onto a wall and she confidently leaned them against that wall in anticipation of Beau stopping by. He texted on Thursday afternoon and asked if he could either stop by or meet her down the street for a glass of wine. She countered by asking if he would hang her shelves, and for that she would happily treat him to the wine.

She’d met him in March. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Beth, that there was a new friend in her life and he was male. She could admit to herself that she was afraid of how it might look, as if she relished the end of her marriage so she could find a