ten or eleven even on weekends. And he didn't get hard when he hugged her. That was the problem. He had no passion, no juice. Still, he was every girl's dream. He was on partner track, had money in the bank. He was a perfectionist who personally oversaw every detail of the apartment renovations so that she didn't have to worry about a thing. Thomas wanted her totally free of worry, just a happy-go-lucky wife with nothing much to do. When he wasn't fussing with the contractors, he was working to make money all the time so she could have a perfect life. A hammer beat in Pru's head as she imagined Thomas's vision for her perfect, orderly life. She was twenty-four. He was thirty-two and certain she was the One. Everyone she knew thought he was an absolute doll. All twelve of her bridesmaids thought so. Thomas kissed her on the street, insisted on holding hands all the time, and no one knew their infrequent sex together took less than two minutes. He had no staying power. She wasn't sure how much it should matter to her.
'How about some coffee?'
'Jesus! Get out of here, Anthony!' Prudence yelped. 'It creeps me out when you do that.' She sat up, clutching her throbbing head. Why did Anthony do that! 'Jesus! Are you crazy!' she said, furious at him for yet another intrusion into her private space. He had no right to come into her room.
'Wendy is here opening your gifts. I'd worry about it if I were you,' he said, neutral as always.
'You aren't me,' she said. 'I trust Wendy completely. What is she going to do, take something?'
'You should open your own gifts,' he told her. 'If you were a happy girl, you'd be taking an interest.'
'I'm a happy
And it's not your business. Haven't you heard of the intercom?' she added.
'I'm worried about you, and you don't answer the intercom.'
'I told you I don't like your bugging me.' Prudence sighed. 'I'm not a little girl anymore.'
Anthony humphed about that. He didn't move. He stood in the doorway, looking at her. She hated that.
'Wendy wants to go over the guest list and the seating plan with you. Your mother wants you to go over to Louis's after your fitting. She'll meet you at the florist's. Hurry up. It's getting late.'
'All right, all right. I'm coming. Close the door, will you?'
'Is everything all right, Pru? You look so unhappy—'
'Close the door, Anthony.'
'I'll get your coffee.'
'Fine, but don't bring it here. I'll have it in the dining room.'
'Very good.' Anthony backed out and closed the door.
Unhappy? She didn't like him saying that. She wasn't unhappy. She just had a hangover. Prudence threw back the covers all the way She was wearing a peach slip and nothing else. Groaning, she dragged herself out of bed.
Muttering this, she stumbled to the bathroom, where she tossed down two aspirin without water, then squinted at herself in the mirror. She breathed noisily through her nose as she assessed the damage. Did she look unhappy? No, she did not. But she did look pretty wasted. Thomas wouldn't like seeing her like that. She didn't want Wendy seeing her wasted, either. Spoiled her glow.
She splashed cold water on her face.
She was back in the world, about to be Mrs. Thomas Fenton. Never mind that that her head hurt like hell, and she somedmes had a niggling worry. Life was great. It would all work out. She knew it would. She threw on jeans and a T-shirt and padded into the dining room, where Wendy sat with a mountain of opened blue Tiffany boxes.
'Okay, I'm ready,' Prudence said brightly, smiling and happy again. 'Bring it on.'
Twenty-three
W
endy's life fell apart when she was ten, after a jolt of pure terror forged together a jumble of images. War was on the news, and though science was on her mind, war was in her heart, too. That day she'd killed the gardener's pet rabbit to feed the shark.
Feeding the shark had not been her smart idea. Her brother Randy wanted to see if a shark would eat a rabbit. But Randy was with Daddy on a hunting trip in Alaska and she'd been left alone for many days, so she'd decided to do some hunting herself. She killed the big tame white rabbit that was a prize from a local magic show, then put it in a garbage bag and hid it under the dock.
Later, she saw stunned little bundles on the news— children with missing hands or legs wrapped in rags. Maybe land mines. Maybe civil war. Wendy didn't know what it was. Little faces bobbed over the shoulders of grown-ups who were walking in a long line away from the popping-corn sound of bullets. Some of the bundles were on the ground, not moving, wrapped up tightly so that nothing showed. It scared her. She thought she was next.
When it was dark, she took the spear gun and underwater light from the rack of scuba gear in the mudroom. Outside, the sky was a light show with a three-quarter moon so bright she didn't need the flashlight to make her way down to the saltwater pond. She walked across the wet grass of the broad lawn that sloped down to the water, then through the trees following the path through the sea grass down to the dock, trying to be brave without her brothers. She hated being left behind.
The ocean crept in here at high dde, rising to meet the dock at the farthest end, more than a mile from the cut that made it a suitable breeding ground for clams and mussels and scallops. That night was so quiet and windless that the water barely lapped at the wedge of rocky sand on the shoreline where the biggest clams dug in deep; the crabs scuttled along, pincers ready to grab at anything that crossed their path; and the razor clams were as sharp and lethal as their name.
From here, the mainland lights joined together as a soft glow against black land. The few pale white halos that could be seen around the pond marked the nearest summer houses, far down unconnected dirt roads. The Lotte farm was a lonely spot.
When Wendy finally turned on the light and shone it on the inky water, right away she saw the dark shape of the dog shark that came in with the tide at night. It circled in the shallows near the dock, possibly looking for lobster bait, or a place to spawn. She dumped the rabbit into the water. It hit with a splash and sank quickly into the black, then bobbed up in the shallows. The shark swam in, close to the shore, almost close enough for her to reach out and touch with the tip of her spear gun. It circled and circled but would not strike the dead rabbit. Wendy was scared.
If the tide didn't draw the rabbit out to deeper water by morning, everyone would know what she had done. She crept back to her room, certain she'd be caught and punished. She was sorry, really. When she heard the
of a bird in the sky, she thought the helicopter was war coming to her from far away. Her punishment. A strobe flashed into her room, lighting it brighter than ten flashes of lightning on a nor'easter night.
'Mummy!' She wanted to hide in the attic. Instead, she ran down the hall calling for her mother.
'Ssshh, it's just the Coast Guard. There must have been a boating accident. Go to bed, sweetheart, everything's all right.'
But Wendy didn't want to go to bed. She could see someone in there. Daddy was back; her brothers were back. They'd know it wasn't a boating accident. The strobe lit the room again, and she realized the man with her mother was not her daddy. After that night, she knew the divorce that ruined everything was all her fault.
Twenty-four
What happened to it? I don't understand.' Prudence had lost her good spirits. She was getting weepy. Her wedding gown was too tight. It wouldn't zip up, an impossible situation. She stamped her foot. 'What are we going to do?' she demanded. 'I want to talk to Tang.'
'Oh, no, that's not necessary.' Wendy was eager to prevent her from making a scene. 'Don't worry so much, dear. We can get this fixed.'
Wendy sounded cheery, but she was seething inside. This should have taken five minutes, should have been a nothing visit. Instead, Prudence was flipping out. Wendy didn't need this. She glanced at her watch, then looked up in time to see Tang herself sweep down the stairs to the second-floor showroom from her private office on the
