Chapter 1
How do you know when a marriage is truly over?
Jessica Coleman stared out her kitchen window as she sipped her morning coffee and half listened to her best friend, Alison Page, tell her about the amazing dinner she’d had the night before at the Impudent Oyster. She and Alison had been best friends since they were children living in Chatham, Massachusetts, and even though they’d lived a thousand miles apart for many years, they still spoke by phone at least once a week, usually early in the morning.
“We had the oysters Rockefeller, which had lobster, too, and a creamy spinach sauce. You would have loved it.”
It was their favorite restaurant in Chatham, the small Cape Cod village where they’d both grown up. Alison had never left, while Jessica had moved to Charleston, South Carolina, many years ago, after graduating from law school, and marrying Parker.
“Jess, you still there?” Alison had stopped talking and Jessica hadn’t even noticed. She felt the beginnings of a stress headache, brought on by thinking about the best time to have an uncomfortable conversation with her husband. Something they’d both been avoiding.
“Sorry, I’ve been miles away. A lot on my mind. Nothing new, just wondering what to do about Parker.”
“No gold stars lately, I take it?”
Jess laughed. “That’s an understatement.” She’d once joked to Alison that she should put a gold star on the calendar for the rare occasions that she and Parker had sex. By her calculations it was almost a year now. It just wasn’t a priority anymore, for either of them. They’d met during her junior year at Charleston College, and she’d never really been serious with anyone else. He hadn’t, either. After graduating from law school and getting married, both took jobs at Parker’s father’s firm in Charleston. They’d settled in Mount Pleasant, one of the area’s nicest neighborhoods, and three years later had one daughter, Caitlin, who recently turned thirty.
“I’m sorry. Have you talked to him about it? Do you want to try to save the marriage?”
Jess wasn’t sure there was anything left to save. She and Parker had been madly in love, many years ago. They both worked long hours and it seemed like the only thing they had in common anymore was work.
“It’s like we’re roommates. It’s been like that for a few years, we’ve really sort of drifted apart. And I feel like something has shifted in the past few months. Just a funny feeling that I have.”
“You think he might be having an affair?” Alison sounded surprised, and Jess didn’t blame her. Parker was the least likely person to have an affair. He worked long hours and they worked together. She knew his schedule and didn’t see how it was possible. But still, the feeling wouldn’t go away.
“I don’t know. Maybe not. Maybe we’ve just both come to realize this isn’t working anymore. Something just feels different.”
“You need to talk to him.”
“I know. I catch him looking at me sometimes, like he wants to have the conversation, too, but neither one of us wants to bring it up first. It’s just easier to ignore it and keep going on the way we have, I guess.”
“That doesn’t sound healthy, Jess. Time goes by too fast. If this isn’t working anymore, either try to fix it, together, or move on. It’s not so bad being single. It might be good for you.” Alison had been married for ten years and single for more than twenty. And she was best friends with her ex. It was like they got along better since they divorced. Jess had asked her a million times if they might get back together, but Alison always insisted that it wasn’t like that with them.
“You’re right. I know you’re right. I think I might finally be ready. I’ve never really been single as an adult. It’s going to be a change.”
Suddenly single as a woman in her mid-fifties in Charleston was an intimidating thought. It was a city full of beautiful, young Southern women who never left their house without full hair and makeup and always dressed impeccably. How could she compete with that?
“Why don’t you take some time off?” Alison suggested. “Come to Chatham for a month, at least. You haven’t taken more than a week or two off in years.”
The idea was very tempting. And Alison was right. Jess’s mother would be thrilled. At seventy-eight, she was an active widow, and the family house in Chatham had plenty of room.
“I’ll think about it.” She glanced at the time and took her last sip of coffee. “Allie, I have to run. I’ll keep you posted.”
* * *
Parker was already up and out. He’d developed a new habit in recent months of heading to the gym before work and then showering and dressing there. The law firm was just a few blocks away from the gym. If he had an early-morning client meeting, he brought his stuff with him and hit the gym at lunchtime or right after work instead. He’d decided recently that he needed to lose twenty pounds and, much to Jessica’s annoyance, achieved his goal a month later. He just immediately stopped overeating and skipped breakfast and lunch, eating one meal a day. Something Jess could never imagine doing; she never missed a meal. Not that she was overweight, but her weight tended to go up and down by ten or fifteen pounds, and dieting was never that easy for her.
The drive into the office wasn’t far, less than ten miles, but with rush-hour traffic it usually took almost forty-five minutes. Jess pulled her navy BMW sedan into the office building parking lot at a quarter past eight. Parker’s car, a black Range Rover, was already there.
Jess’s executive assistant, Miriam, was taking her coat off when Jess walked off the elevator. The office receptionist, a temp, hadn’t arrived yet. But the office didn’t officially open for another fifteen minutes. Miriam smiled when she saw her.
“I was just about to grab a coffee, would you like one?” Miriam asked. She was an older woman, in her early sixties, and had a motherly quality that Jess appreciated. She was also always two steps ahead of Jess, and great with clients. They’d worked together for years. She knew that Miriam was thinking about retiring soon, though, and she dreaded having to train someone new.
“That would be great, thanks so much.” Jess settled at her desk, fired up her computer, and dove into her emails. She had a busy day, a booked-solid schedule of client meetings. She saw Parker briefly, to say hello, and then didn’t see him again until the end of the day, as she was wrapping things up. He poked his head in the door before heading out. His assistant, Linda, was beside him, and as she pulled on her jacket, the front of her shirt lifted up a few inches and Jess saw something that she hadn’t noticed before.
There was a familiar swelling across Linda’s middle. Parker’s assistant was pregnant. Linda was a fairly new assistant. She’d been with the firm for just under a year and was maybe a year or so older than their daughter. She’d replaced an older woman who had retired, and Linda came highly recommended. So far, Parker had said she’d been doing a great job. Jess couldn’t remember any mention of a serious boyfriend, though. She guessed by the size of the swelling that Linda was maybe four or five months along.
She was a slim girl and usually wore dresses or long tops that covered her waist. Jess wondered if Parker knew. They’d have to start thinking about a replacement when she went on maternity leave and also consider the possibility that she might not return. About half the time, they didn’t, even when they adamantly said that they would.
“Heading home?” Jess asked with a smile.
“No, actually. We have that Lions Club thing tonight. I thought I mentioned it to you. They’re giving us their yearly check for the food pantry. Linda and I are going. I know you hate those things and thought it might be fun for her.”
Jess did hate those dinners and usually tried to get out of them. The organization was a wonderful one, but the evenings dragged on for several hours. Both she and Parker were active volunteers and committee members for their church’s food pantry, and every year the Lions Club and other organizations donated several thousand dollars to help fund pantry operations. She didn’t mind at all that Linda was going in her place. It was the last thing she felt like doing after a long day at the office.
But then Linda absentmindedly patted her stomach, and Jess caught the look on Parker’s face as he watched her. It was fleeting, but for a moment she’d seen it—pure adoration—and then she knew.
And when Parker met her gaze, he knew she knew. The telltale sudden flush of red across his cheeks confirmed it.
She just stared at him. “When you get home tonight, we need to talk.”
Chapter 2
Caitlin Coleman had beaten out hundreds of applicants for the job at Middleton’s. She knew that because Mary Middleton liked to remind her of it with the unspoken threat that if things didn’t work out, she’d be easy to replace. Middleton’s was a high-end department store, the Charleston equivalent of Harrods in London. Some compared it to Nordstrom because of the famous chain’s legendary service, but Mary Middleton scoffed at the comparison. Middleton’s was much more expensive than Nordstrom.
Caitlin had been there for two months and thought things were going reasonably well. Her role was on the floor, in sales. Many of their customers came in for the Middleton experience, which was on the store’s upper level, where the most in-demand designer clothes were found, and included complimentary champagne in the dressing rooms.
Caitlin was expected to upsell—to suggest entire outfits when a client brought a single piece into the dressing room. Caitlin had thought that seemed overly pushy at first, but was surprised by how effective it was. These women wanted to know what she thought, and she didn’t hesitate to tell them. She thought that they valued her truthful opinion.
“What do you think of this one?” Helen, a woman about Caitlin’s mother’s age, twirled in front of the three-way mirror in a sequined evening gown that cost more than Caitlin’s last car. It would be a huge sale and a big commission for Caitlin. But it didn’t look as good on Helen as a few other dresses she’d tried.
“That’s a lovely dress, but I’m not sure it’s as flattering as the other two you just tried. I’d recommend going with one of those.”
Mary Middleton happened to walk into the dressing room area a moment earlier and heard everything.
“Oh, dear,” Helen said. “I really do love this one. That’s disappointing to hear.” She bit her lower lip and stared sadly at her reflection in the mirror. “I think maybe I’ll just hold off for now. Thanks so much, dear.” She quickly disappeared into her dressing room.
“We have some other things you might love,” Mary immediately suggested. But Helen stayed silent until she emerged a few minutes later, dressed in a Lilly Pulitzer pink floral print dress.
“Maybe another day. I’m just not in the mood anymore.” She scurried off, and Mary turned her attention to Caitlin. Mary’s expression was icy, and Caitlin braced for what she suspected was coming.
“Caitlin, we’ve been through this before. There’s such a thing as being too honest. That dress might not have looked as good as the others, but it still looked fine—and more importantly, that was the dress that she loved. That she wanted. You cost us a huge sale and disappointed an important client. I’m afraid this just isn’t working out. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry. I can do better,” Caitlin began. She felt terrible. Mary had only mentioned this as being an issue once before. And Caitlin really thought that she’d been helping by steering Helen to the most flattering dress. That kind of honesty was what Caitlin would have wanted to hear, so she’d just assumed their customers would feel the same way.
But Mary Middleton was done. “This isn’t the place for you, Caitlin. I wish you all the best. Please leave your badge in the office when you leave today.”
* * *
Caitlin felt numb when she walked out of Middleton’s at a few minutes past five. She’d been so excited to get that job. And Mary had seemed so wonderful when she’d first started working there. She’d told Caitlin how much she loved her look, and that clients would be excited to work with her. And that was why she’d beaten out all the others who were desperate to work there.
Caitlin had always loved fashion. For a brief time, she’d toyed with the idea of modeling. She was certainly tall enough, at five ten, and her naturally reddish-blond long hair was her best feature. But she was too big-boned, and if she was being honest, she knew that she wasn’t pretty enough. She was Charleston pretty, with small features and big blue eyes, but there was nothing remarkable about her bone structure. She just wasn’t that photogenic.
Working in fashion seemed like a great alternative. She’d tried just about everything else over the years, including waitressing and bartending. Working as a secretary—that was a disaster. Attention to detail—other people’s schedules—was not a strength. She’d tried an entry-level job in finance as a mutual-fund accountant. Those big companies hired fresh graduates from any major and trained them. But when Caitlin sent a wire with an extra zero and accidentally sent a million dollars instead of one hundred thousand, she was let go, understandably.
She temped for a while after that and worked in customer service at a call center. She’d thought she’d finally landed the ideal job at Middleton’s, and now it looked like she would have to sign on with a temp agency again. It was depressing. All her friends had their lives figured out, building careers, and most at this point were married. Caitlin hadn’t managed to do that yet, either.
She’d come close a few times, but just didn’t feel like any of them were “the one.” Now that she’d turned thirty, though, it seemed like there was more of a sense of urgency about getting married. In Charleston and the South in general, women tended to marry early. Though Charleston wasn’t quite as bad as some areas. She remembered visiting Nicole, a college friend, in a small Louisiana town the year she turned twenty-five and feeling like an old maid for the first time.
When she went to a house party with Nicole, just about all of her friends asked, “Where’s your husband?” As if they assumed that she must have one and he was maybe outside or something. It was the most bizarre experience she’d ever had. And Nicole explained that just about everyone there got married by the time they were twenty or twenty-one at the latest. Nicole had married at nineteen and dropped out of college at the end of her sophomore year.
But Caitlin cheered up a bit as she drove to Fleet Landing, the restaurant where she was meeting Prescott, the man she’d been dating for exactly one year. It was their anniversary, and one of their mutual friends had told her that Prescott had mentioned that he had something big to tell her tonight, but he didn’t know what the news was. Caitlin didn’t want to get her hopes up, but she was pretty sure Prescott was going to propose, and she was inclined to accept. He ticked almost all of her boxes. He was tall and blond, handsome but not too good-looking. She’d dated a few guys over the years who were too hot for their own good and knew it. That never ended well.
Copyright © 2023 by Pamela Kelley
