“I can’t believe he brought his girlfriend to your house,” Laurie said. “Men can be so dense.”
“Not all men,” Erika said.
“Yeah, I know,” Laurie said. “Your Jonathan’s a prince.”
“Yes, he is.”
Susan, who lived a half mile away, swerved her minivan up to the corner. A moment later she hopped out—a giant stretch for her short legs. “Sorry I’m late,” she said, slogging over to us. “The phone rang just as I was running out the door.” Panting, she dropped her keys in the pocket of her baggy jeans. “How was everyone’s week?”
“Great,” Laurie said. “Marguerite and I started our drawing class.” She aimed her grin at me. “I can hardly wait until next Monday, can you? Have you been doing your drawing assignment, twenty minutes a day?”
“I haven’t had time. I’ve been swamped at work. If you’re a realtor, you have to jump whenever a client calls.” The truth was, I hadn’t been busy, nor had I given the assignment a second thought. “How about you?”
“Yes, I’ve done three drawings.”
“Good for you,” Susan said.
Charlie tugged in the direction of the lake. I loosened my hold on his leash and allowed him to lead me. Erika and Laurie fell in on either side of me, and Susan walked next to Erika.
“Our teacher is outstanding,” Laurie said. “Marguerite, you should go out with him.”
The corners of my mouth drew back. Remembering my encounter with Henry at the gallery, I felt like using the words arrogant and stuck-up, but I wanted to forget about the incident. “I don’t like his type,” I said.
“What type is that?” Erika asked.
“He’s extremely good-looking.” Laurie said.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said, although I could see how some women might find him attractive. “And who could get past his personality?”
Laurie paid no attention. “Henry’s got dreamy eyes that make you forget what you were thinking about. His hair’s graying a little, but even that looks good.” She bumped against my arm. “You should definitely go out with him.”
Laurie had a habit of talking me into things, but this was one hook I wouldn’t bite. “Let’s change the subject,” I said, whining in a way that would have made my father grumble. He never did spank me as a child, but I would have done anything to avoid his frown. I guess it took a crisis for me to get over that.
We reached the paved walkway around Green Lake, then merged into the pedestrian lane. I’d walked the almost three miles around this lake so many times, I felt like a train coasting along on a track. Ahead of us two women pushed strollers. From the other direction, a youth on rollerblades, who probably should have been in school, skirted past us. I noticed the breeze kicking up the water’s inky surface, then felt it stroke my face and lift my hair off my forehead.
“I love September,” Susan said. Her swinging arms bobbed against her wide hips. “It feels good to have the kids back in school.”
Laurie and Erika jumped into the conversation. The three of them still had kids at home; their words mingled together in my ears like a distant radio with fuzzy reception. Overhead, geese honked. I glanced up to see a V-shaped formation of black wings pounding against the sky as a dozen Canadian geese migrated south in search of warmer weather. I thought about Rob as a little boy. How happy I would be if he were still in grade school.
“Just think, in a few years, all our kids will be out of the house,” Laurie said.
I slowed my pace to watch mustard-colored leaves flutter across our path. “After eighteen years, maybe we’ve outgrown being a Mom’s Brigade,” I said. “Do we need a new name?”
“No way.” Laurie wrapped an arm around my shoulder, and I leaned into her. “We’ll keep walking this lake, even when we’re using canes.”
“Oh, no,” I gasped as I recognized Bill Sullivan sprinting our way.
“Hi, Marguerite,” Bill yelled out. He shortened his steps. “How goes it?” He started jogging in place, sweat streaming down his ruddy face.
I’d met him through a coworker at the office, and we’d dated for almost three months. We had little in common, really, other than we both sold real estate and liked Mexican food. Once, over dinner, I decided he was the most boring man I’d ever met. But I still went out with him again. I was that lonely.
I didn’t feel like revisiting the past. “Just keep walking,” I instructed under my breath with a horrified snicker that started the women laughing.
“You’re looking good,” he said, giving me the once-over. “Call me if you want to go out again.”
“I remember that guy,” Laurie said. She turned her head to appraise him from the back. “He’s kind of cute.”
“Cute ain’t everything,” I said.
“Well, if I were single—”
I lifted an eyebrow.
“It’s not against the law to look, is it?”
Twenty minutes later, we stood on the corner saying good-bye. We hugged each other, then split off into our different worlds.
“Go home and draw,” Laurie called to me.
I gave her a dismissive wave but carried her words with me.
Charlie lagged at my side as I entered the yard and closed the gate. I unsnapped his leash, and he moseyed over to his water dish by the back step. Lately, I’d noticed the dog’s hair was thinning in spots, and his eyes were clouding milky gray, probably dimming his vision. I knew he was getting old. But the thought of losing him was more than I could contemplate at the moment. I unlocked the glass-paned kitchen door. Ignoring the dirty breakfast dishes congregating on the counter, I sauntered down to the basement, a large cement-sided storage room with a washer and dryer in one corner.
In a bookcase crammed with Rob’s favorite
