“And now?”
“I’m surprised. In a good way.” She unlocked her car and brushed the snow off the windows. A group of people across the way caught her eye. She recognized Olivia, laughing as she came out of Zuzu’s Petals and—“Oh, God,” Jenny murmured.
“What is it?”
“That’s Olivia’s mother and her grandparents. Olivia warned me that they’d be coming up to help her plan the wedding. Is it too late to hide?”
“I’m pretty sure they’ve spotted you.”
Indeed, Olivia had her arm raised in greeting. Just for a moment, Jenny felt a sickening wave of resentment. There was Olivia, surrounded by her mother and grandparents, beaming as though she’d won the lottery. And she had, of course. She’d been born a Bellamy, still had both parents and both sets of grandparents, and she was planning her wedding to the man of her dreams. She was younger than Jenny. Better educated. Blonder. It was hard not to draw comparisons. Harder still not to resent her sister.
Jenny hoped none of that showed on her face as she and Rourke crossed the street toward Olivia and her family. This would be as awkward for them as it was for her. With her smile frozen in place, she greeted Olivia’s mother, Pamela Lightsey, and grandparents, Samuel and Gwen Lightsey. Pamela appeared to be the quintessential Manhattan socialite, a glossy beauty who was polished from head to toe. Diamond stud earrings winked from her earlobes under a luxurious-looking broadtail lamb hat. Despite the cold, every eyelash was in place and she wore a gracious hostess’s smile. “How do you do?” she said, but her eyes told a different story. Her eyes said, “So you’re my ex-husband’s love child.”
Gwen and Samuel were a prosperous-looking couple in their seventies, silver-haired, utterly poised—or so Jenny thought at first. There was something flinty in Gwen’s gaze, a chilly disapproval Jenny understood completely. Thirty years ago, the Lightseys had a perfect future mapped out for their daughter. Pamela was to marry the son of their best friends, and they would all be one big happy family. Except that Philip had met Mariska Majesky. The affair had lasted only one summer, and he had married Pamela after all, but clearly it wasn’t a happy union. Jenny sensed that the Lightseys blamed Mariska. If he’d never met her, perhaps he would have been content with Pamela forever.
The Lightseys greeted Rourke warmly, mentioning their acquaintance with his father, the senator. Jenny and Olivia shared a look, and Olivia mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
Jenny offered a conciliatory smile. “How are the wedding plans coming along?” she asked.
“Just fine. And I wanted to ask you something,” Olivia said. “I would love for you to be a bridesmaid.”
Pamela stiffened as though someone had shoved an icicle down her back, and Jenny realized this was the first Olivia’s mother had heard of the plan. Pamela pressed her mouth into a thin line of disapproval, and nearly shook with the effort to stay silent.
Although Jenny was tempted to accept immediately, she reminded herself that it was Olivia’s day, and she deserved better than to suffer her mother’s unhappiness. “Olivia, I’m flattered,” she said. “But—”
“No buts. I only have one sister. I’d be honored if you’d be a part of the wedding party.”
“Can I think about it?” she asked. “I’ll let you know, all right?”
Samuel Lightsey was studying her. “You look so much like your mother,” he said. “It’s uncanny.”
Gwen tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. Jenny suspected she was holding him in a vise grip. She smiled politely at Samuel. “I didn’t realize you had met my mother in person.”
Samuel cleared his throat. “I misspoke. Perhaps I saw her in passing, a long time ago.”
* * *
Rourke refused to allow Jenny to drive to Camp Kioga unless he plowed and sanded the road, and she was glad enough for his help. He also insisted that she take Rufus, the eldest of his dogs, a malamute mix he’d found in an abandoned apartment. Rufus had thick fur and oddly pale blue eyes, and he had a watchful way about him. He rode in the backseat, imbuing the car with his doggy aroma as he looked eagerly out the window. The sharp vee of the plow blades cut a swath through the pristine snow on the road, and salted gravel rained down from the bed of the truck. Jenny followed slowly, keeping back far enough to stay out of range of the pinging gravel. The tree branches on both sides of the road were weighted by snow, creating a landscape so beautiful that she didn’t mind driving along at a crawl, admiring the scenery.
“‘I misspoke,’” she murmured, talking to the dog as she drove. “Well, I think the old codger’s lying.” She tried to figure out why. The answer was probably lost in the distant past.
She was distracted by a white rabbit that leaped out from the roadside and crossed in front of her. Rufus lunged at the window, smearing it with slobber. She slowed to let the rabbit pass and watched it scamper into the woods, until the white of its fur melded with the snow and faded from sight. Rufus settled back, whining with disappointment.
She drove more carefully the rest of the way. Rourke used the plow to clear a big rectangle of space in the parking area outside the compound. Then they went to inspect the premises, and the dog bounded joyfully through the drifts.
“This is a bad idea,” he said, not for the first time.
“Enough already.” She ran through knee-deep snow as light as air, kicking up a cloud of flurries. “Don’t be a wet blanket,” she said, taking out the key Jane had given her. “Come and check it out with me.”
They stepped under the archway at the entrance, wading through the drifts of snow. The entire compound resembled a winter wonderland. The building known as the winter lodge was the oldest structure at the camp. It had been built for the camp’s founders, the Gordon family,
