“My only thoughts so far are small and low-maintenance. I think there’ll be plenty of time to look around once I choose a Realtor. Susan Mandell has been giving me the full court press. And someone in the real estate office where Nancy Flaherty works reached out.”
I plop down on the couch beside Meena.
“There’s a two-bedroom like mine coming up for sale on my floor and a couple other floor plans in other parts of the building already on the market. I’d love to have you for a neighbor again,” she says.
“That could be fun,” I say. But it’s almost impossible to imagine. Right now, all I can think about is purging and straightening and tidying. It’s sad but comforting to touch and look at all these pieces of our past. I can feel myself saying goodbye to the life I lived and the person I used to be.
“Who knows, maybe once I finish going through the house, I’ll be qualified to put out a shingle and give Marie Kondo a run for her money. Or maybe I’ll take a cruise around the world. Or hike the Appalachian Trail.
“The very idea that what comes next is entirely up to me is exhilarating and horribly frightening. From now on, everything I do, everything I choose, will be up to me. I won’t have anyone to blame if I’m not happy.”
“It’s true,” Meena nods sagely. “Growing the rest of the way up, coming into your own, can be scary no matter how old you are when you do it. So is freedom. Sometimes it comes wrapped up in loneliness.”
I meet Meena’s eyes. “How are you feeling?”
Her exhale is loud and slow. “I’m looking for closure and a chance to hit back. I slept with that man, Jude. And I fell for his bullshit. I don’t even know who that cottage on the Mayan Riviera belonged to.” She shakes her head. “I’m not gonna lie: I’m looking forward to seeing his face when he sees all three of us and realizes that he’s not as smart as he thinks.”
“Too bad we can’t do it in costume,” I say, reaching for yet another box filled with Halloweens past. “Hell, maybe I should open a costume shop. Remember this?” I pull out a single-breasted three-piece suit and a large striped tie. Then I locate the gray felt fedora that Nate wore with the suit and set it on my head at a rakish angle.
“How could I forget?” Meena says. “That’s the year the guys went to the neighborhood Halloween party as Gondorff and Hooker from The Sting and they kept flicking the bridges of their noses all night, like Newman and Redford and the rest of the con men did in the movie. Stan even wore blue contacts, which is as close to Paul Newman as I ever got. Until Frank.” She sighs in disgust. “I can’t believe his blue eyes may have been the only ‘real’ thing about him.”
“You do realize that our sting may not be as satisfying as we’re hoping. There’s only so much we can do.”
“I don’t care,” she says as I instruct Alexa to play the theme song from The Sting. “I just can’t bear letting him think he got away with it.”
Thirty-Six
Sara
“Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask Dorothy yet again as we tidy up the children’s area at Between the Covers post–story time.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” Her voice is steady, and her smile appears real. But there’s an odd sort of energy coming off her.
“Well, he did lie about pretty much everything. Even if he pretended to be different people while he was doing it. The same person who sat with you over coffees and pretended to bare his soul is the same person who spent a week in Mexico with Meena. And is coming here today to meet Annell.”
“I’m well aware of that. But perhaps Annell should have just ghosted him. I’m not sure why we’re going to all this trouble when we should just be glad to be done with him.”
I consider my mother-in-law. “He hurt you and Meena. And if we do nothing, he’ll just keep lying and attempting to mooch off other women.”
“Perhaps it’s our own fault for being so naïve. To want so badly to be loved that we open ourselves up to the wrong people.” She says this quietly, but her eyes are cloudy with pain. Caused not only by this stranger but by her own son.
“Maybe we do need to pay more attention and stand up for ourselves sooner, but it’s never right to blame the victims.” I squeeze her hand, then head up to the front desk, where we receive jangly hugs from the rest of the book club as they arrive. Soon the store reverberates with nervous chatter.
“I’m so angry at this fraudster, I’m not sure how I’m going to be polite when he gets here,” Annell says.
“Maybe we should just hit him over the head as soon as he walks in and stuff him in the potting shed,” Meena suggests.
“I wouldn’t mind laying a little whoop-ass on the man,” Carlotta agrees.
“I still like the putting green idea.” Nancy twirls, showing off the golf skort Carlotta designed for her. “My clubs are in the car.”
Jazmine and Angela laugh. “It is tempting, isn’t it?”
“Okay, everybody!” Phoebe and Wesley raise their hands for quiet. “The video camera is set up and tucked out of sight in the carriage house. It’s voice activated, but we want to be careful not to block its view from between the open shelves in the kitchenette. We’ll be using our cell phones to stream audio and video. Is everybody clear on what’s happening?”
There are nods and nervous smiles.
“What’s the signal?” Wesley asks.
“I say, ‘Right this way’!” Annell calls out.
“Then I do the nose thing.” Judith demonstrates. “And once Annell and ‘the mark’ are in the breezeway, we fall in and walk as quietly as possible into the carriage house.”
“That’s right,” Phoebe confirms. “Don’t be nervous. He may have multiple fictional personalities, but we still outnumber him.”
Chaz steps forward. “Everyone needs to stay calm and remember our objective. I do have an off-duty cop friend standing by just in case, but we will not go into Thelma and Louise territory. Everybody clear on that?”
We respond with a resounding “Clear!” but I don’t think any of us are anywhere close to calm.
At exactly four p.m., Meena glances out the front window. “There’s his car,” she stage-whispers. “He’s here.”
“All right, everybody.” Annell’s smile is tight. “Let’s take our places. It’s showtime.”
Dorothy swallows a large gulp of air and clasps hands with Meena. After a last look over their shoulders, they retreat to the carriage house, where they’ll keep out of sight until it’s time to reveal themselves. The rest of the book club scatters around the store to pose as customers, which is fortunately not a stretch of anyone’s acting abilities.