Before she could respond, he was gone, his whistling echoing through the house as he

headed upstairs.

"Well, I see you've come to your senses."

Jill lowered her glass of wine. "How so?"

"Or is it just because it's your birthday you agreed to this party?" Arlene waltzed into the

kitchen, a huge cake in her hands. "And isn't it a bit early for wine? You don't want to have

the guests talking, do you?"

Jill blew out her breath, vowing not to let her mother-in-law get to her today. So she

smiled sweetly. "As with everything else, Arlene, it's none of your goddamn business." She

had the pleasure of seeing her mother-in-law gasp before walking out to the deck. Craig

and his father were measuring off the out-of-bounds lines for the volleyball games.

Despite her loathing for her mother-in-law, she'd always gotten along well with Carl. But

given the current situation, she wouldn't blame him if he chose to ignore her. He didn't.

"Jill, how are you?"

"Fine, Carl, thanks."

"I'm glad you both decided to have the party. It just wouldn't seem like the Fourth

without it."

Jill looked at Craig, nodding at his smile. "So I'm told." She walked out into the yard to join

them. "Your mother made a cake," she said. Then, quieter, "You don't suppose she would

resort to arsenic, do you?"

Craig laughed. "I'll eat the first piece."

Jill bypassed the lawn chairs Craig had set out on the deck, choosing instead the more

familiar swing. Craig was certainly in a good mood today. So was Angie, for that matter.

She wondered if it was only the prospect of the party, or if they thought—since she'd

agreed to it—that things were going to return to normal.

She pushed off with her foot, setting the swing in motion, watching them as they marked

the lines. Their guests would be here any minute and she still wasn't sure how she was

going to play it. Pretend everything was fine, just to avoid uncomfortable questions? In

other words, lie. Or be herself and keep her distance from Craig, letting everyone know

that the rumors they'd most likely heard were true. Or perhaps she could use her current

favorite line—none of your goddamn business.

She smiled, imagining saying that to Whitney Myers, wife of Craig's best friend. Wife,

teetotaler and Sunday school teacher. Of all of Craig's friends' wives, she got along well

enough with most of them. However, she and Whitney had never hit it off. She always came

away with the impression that Whitney was judging her. And finding Jill sorely lacking.

She stood in the shadows of the deck, watching the others as they laughed, their

conversations free and easy. With each other, at least. But with her, the conversations had

been guarded, forced. She took a deep breath and swirled the wine in her glass, wondering

if she dared to open a second bottle.

"Jill?"

She turned, surprised to find Mindy standing behind her, watching. She straightened,

moving away from the pillar she'd been leaning against.

"Hey, Mindy," she said. Then she found her manners. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Great party. As always."

"Thanks."

Mindy moved closer, blocking Jill's view of the backyard. Jill assumed she was to have her

first inquisition.

"I know we haven't been the best of friends but if you need someone to talk to, I'm here

for you."

Jill raised her eyebrows. "Why would I need someone to talk to?"

"Well... you and Craig, I mean, it's no secret you guys are having problems," she said quietly.

"We haven't seen you two out together in ages."

Jill bit her lip, just barely holding back her new favorite response. Instead, she smiled and

lightly touched Mindy's arm.

"Thanks for your concern, Mindy, but I'm fine. Really."

"So you and Craig, you're not... well, you're not separating?"

It's none of your goddamn business.

Again she smiled. "Our personal life... well, it's personal. You understand."

"Okay, then." She stepped away. "Good. Well, again, if you need to talk," she said.

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

But her easy smile vanished as soon as Mindy walked away. These people—these women—

who she had called friends, weren't really, she realized. They were just acquaintances she

saw sporadically at games and on the rare occasions they shared a meal. And Mindy's offer

as a confidant now was based more on curiosity than concern.

And with that revelation came another. She did indeed need to open the second bottle of

wine.

"The burgers were great, babe."

Jill flicked her eyes at him, cringing at the endearment she'd grown to detest. "Thanks."

"But you're not really having a good time, are you?"

She smiled. "Why? Can you tell I'm sitting here, praying I get teleported to Hawaii or

something?"

"That bad?"

"Craig, I know you want some normalcy in your life but having this party didn't change

anything," she said softly. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "Angie had a good time. I haven't seen her this happy in months."

Jill nodded. "I know. And I realize how this is wearing on her. I really do." She took a deep

breath. "Maybe it's time we made some decisions instead of continuing like we are," she

said gently.

She saw him swallow, saw his eyes close and she truly felt sorry for him.

"You mean like divorce?" he finally asked.

She nodded but he shook his head.

"I'm not ready to talk about that, Jill. Can we just not talk about that now?"

She nodded again. "Okay, Craig."

He stood. "Do you still want to go to the fireworks?"

"I think I'll bow out, if you don't mind."

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts, his eyes hinting at his inner turmoil.

"Sure. I understand. I'll take Angie and her friends then run them home afterward." He

motioned to the yard. "Don't worry about all this. I'll clean it up in the morning."

She nodded and forced herself up, forced herself to go through the motions of telling

everyone good-bye, and she graciously accepted the words of thanks that were tossed her

way as their guests left. And in a matter of minutes, quiet prevailed and she was left alone.

Even Arlene left without a parting comment. No doubt she was still smarting from their

earlier conversation.

Now alone, Jill went about the task of cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the

leftovers. And despite Craig's directive about the backyard, Jill tidied the deck enough so

that she could sit in the swing.

And think.

Her wine had been replaced by a bottle of water and she slipped off her sandals, sitting

barefoot as she put the swing in motion. Darkness had chased the light from the sky and

she knew the fireworks would soon follow. Even now, sporadic bursts could be heard in the

distance.

She relaxed for the first time all day, letting the motion of the swing soothe her. Her

earlier consumption of wine had mellowed her mood to nearly the point of contentment. So

finally, at last, she allowed her thoughts free rein, allowed visions of Carrie to form, to

grow... to consume her.

Any doubts that lingered about their relationship were dispelled today. Even though she

and Craig were able to function somewhat normally together, were able to talk and tease

even, didn't change the fact that she was in love with someone else.

And how it came to be that she could find herself so totally in love with another woman,

she didn't have clue. She only knew her heart belonged to Carrie. Not Craig.

With that, she accepted the inevitable.

She would file for divorce.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

After the long three-day weekend, Jill was in more of a hurry than usual to get to the

cottage. She closed the gate behind her as she drove down the driveway, glad she'd worn a

sleeveless blouse with her slacks today. It was sunny and hot but even then, she'd prefer

to have lunch in the shade of the garden rather than inside.

But Carrie was nowhere to be found when she got out. She looked down to the pier but it

was empty. So was the tiny table they'd placed under the trees by the flower garden.

She knocked once on the sun porch door then went inside. The interior door to the cottage

was closed and she assumed Carrie had the air conditioning on today.

"Carrie?" she called as she stuck her head inside.

"Here."

Carrie was sitting in the dark, her head leaned back on the loveseat.

"What's wrong?" Jill asked, walking closer and rubbing her shoulder.

"I'm all right."

But when she looked at Jill, her eyes were filled with pain.

"Are you feeling ill?"

Carrie closed her eyes. "I've had this damn migraine all weekend. Nothing I take seems to

help."

Jill sat down beside her, touching her face. "You feel warm. Do you think you have a

fever?"

Carrie took her hand and squeezed and pulled it to her. "I'll be fine now that you're here."

"Well, I don't have a lot of experience with migraines but I do know you're supposed to be