disgust. Although the twins were playing a game of tag around his legs, I doubted this was the reason for his dour expression.
Julian turned her way. Again, he appeared to try to look modest. Again, he failed. To be fair, it is hard to appear modest while ensconced from head to toe in expensive and deliberately wrinkled linen and smoking a preposterously tiny cigarette. “I don’t know if Bonnie mentioned to you that I am something of a whiz with investments,” he said. “I am going to make sure that your charming mother—”
“Stepmother,” interjected Reggie.
“Charming
Behind me someone gagged. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Aunt Winnie has a distinctive gag.
“Speaking of this plan for investment,” said Reggie, “there are a few things I think that we need to discuss. First and foremost, exactly what money are you investing? There’s a rather large sum from the sale of the house on St. Michaels that is due to us. Some of us are counting on that income.”
Bonnie waved aside Reggie’s words. “Darling, you don’t need to worry about that. I was going to surprise you with this later, but I suppose now is as good a time as any.”
“Surprise us with what?” Reggie asked, her voice hard.
“With your present. Julian is going to invest it all for us—everything! He promises that he can practically double it, maybe even triple it! Isn’t that too marvelous?”
From the horrified faces around me, it was clear that “marvelous” wasn’t their word of choice. But before the inevitable explosion of anger and disbelief erupted, there was another explosion of sorts—a tremendous splash.
We all looked to the pool to see Miles sputtering in the water. His glasses were askew and his blue blazer and khaki trousers were completely soaked. On the ledge in front of him, grinning evilly like twin Damiens, stood Thing One and Thing Two.
Chapter 22
We must not be so ready to fancy ourselves intentionally injured.
Of course, the first words heard were Frances’s. “Caden and Cameron!” she cried in obvious distress. Any hope that she was going to finally follow through with a much-deserved punishment on the twins was dashed with her follow-up of, “Are you all right? I told you not to run near the pool’s edge! Neither of you have passed your swim test! You might have drowned!”
Laura ran over to help Miles, who was still spitting out pool water. Ann dashed inside to grab a towel.
Scott, thankfully, saw things a little more realistically than Frances. Truth be told, Scott was better with the boys than Frances was. He just seldom exerted himself to contradict Frances. Marching over to the twins, he grabbed each by the hand and yanked them away from the pool’s edge. “Now look what you’ve done!” he admonished sternly, bending low so as to make eye contact with their sullen faces. “How many times were you warned not to run about? Now you’ve pushed Uncle Miles into the pool. Apologize immediately!”
“But Daddy!” cried Cameron/Thing One. “I didn’t push him! He just fell.”
“Cameron! Apologize!”
“But I didn’t push him!” came the screeching reply.
“Don’t blame it on me!” cried his brother Caden/Thing Two.
Frances moved to where Scott stood. “Scott, don’t yell at them!” she screamed angrily and with unintentional irony. “Yelling doesn’t solve anything!”
As she unclasped the boys’ hands from Scott’s, she said to the boys, “No one is blaming anyone. You both just need to settle down, that’s all. I suspect you’ve had too much sugar.” She glared at Scott as if this was somehow his fault. Then turning to Miles, she said, “I am sorry, Miles. I hope you’re all right.”
Shaking beads of water from his body like a wet dog, Miles nodded. “I’ll be fine.” Turning to Laura, he said, “I’m going to run home and change. I’ll just be a few minutes.” Ann returned with a towel. Taking it with a grateful smile, Miles wiped his face and then his glasses dry.
“Do you want me to come with you?” offered Laura.
“No, you stay here,” replied Miles as he headed out the door. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Sensing that the sentiment of the group was against her and the twins, Frances said, “You two need to apologize to Uncle Miles when he gets back.”
“But I didn’t do anything!” they cried in unison. Frances rolled her eyes heavenward and smiled wanly at the rest of us. “Lord,” she said, “but I can’t wait until this phase of ‘I’m Always Innocent’ is over. But you know how boys are.”
No one replied and I wondered what came after the “I’m Always Innocent” phase. Not having read Dr. Spock, I didn’t know. Was there a subsequent “I Was Framed” phase? Perhaps followed by the “Petty Crimes and Misdemeanors” phase? Was there a “Felony” phase? If there was, the twins were certainly going to excel.
The silence grew awkward. Finally, in a clear attempt to break the tension, Peter said, “Why don’t I get the steaks started?”
“Perfect idea,” agreed Ann. “I’ll go get them for you,” she added as she ducked back into the kitchen. Scott advanced on his children, for once appearing not to care what Frances thought of his disciplinary philosophy. Grabbing both of them by the hand again, he said, “Both of you are coming inside with me for a well-deserved time-out!”
Although the boys (not to mention Frances) protested against this outrage (Frances loudest of all), Scott remained firm and dragged them into the house. Frances followed, protesting that children need firm yet gentle handling and that time-outs weren’t always effective.
With their retreat, the atmosphere calmed a little but not completely. There still was the matter of Bonnie’s announcement hanging in the air.
Reggie was the first to reopen the subject. “Listen here, Bonnie. You can do what you want with
Bonnie affected a look of confusion. “Darling, why are you so upset? Julian is a whiz at investing. I’m doing this for you!”
Reggie clenched her hands at her sides. “I don’t want him to.”
Bonnie shrugged and gave a light laugh. “Oh, but then, even as a child, you never wanted to do what was best for you. If I remember correctly, you didn’t want to take swimming lessons either. My how you fussed and kicked, but aren’t you glad you took them now?”
In addition to clenching her hands, Reggie’s jaw now bunched. “That is not the same as investing! You are playing with people’s futures here!”
“Actually, I’m
Reggie’s eyes clenched shut in frustration. Soon her entire body would be one big clench. “I can’t take this anymore,” she muttered. “I’m getting a massive headache. I need an aspirin. And a martini. And not necessarily in that order. Excuse me.” She turned and stalked angrily into the house. Donny looked at us in hulkish silence for a moment before lumbering after her.
From her chair, Aunt Winnie eyed Bonnie suspiciously. “What are you doing here, Bonnie? The truth.”
Bonnie gave an innocent shrug. Offering Aunt Winnie an almost feline smile, she said, “I have no idea what you mean, Winifred. We’re here to celebrate Marty’s memory, and as a special surprise, I’ve arranged for the children to receive a lovely return on their inheritance. It’s the least I can do for them.” Picking up her martini glass, she delicately swallowed the last sip like a cat finishing its cream.
Suddenly I understood exactly what Bonnie was doing. It was revenge pure and simple. Revenge for years of being dismissed as a bubblehead. Revenge for being called “McClueless.” Revenge for an unhappy marriage to a
