“Anything new with you and Reed?” Avery turned her attention to Lori.
Lori slowly smiled, as if the mere mention of her boyfriend warmed a part of her soul. “He’s a good man. He cooked stir-fry for us last Tuesday.”
“Reed can cook?” Shannon asked.
“No. It was awful. Took three days for the soy sauce to leave the back of my throat.”
Trina chuckled. “So what was good about it?”
“He wore an apron.”
They all stared at her.
“And nothing else.”
“Ahh, so, sex in the kitchen,” Avery said.
“Any wedding bells yet?” Trina asked.
Seemed like every time they all got together, they asked if Reed had hinted at the next step.
“He is taking me out of town for our anniversary. I think maybe . . .”
“Let us know as soon as he pops the question.”
Shannon lifted her glass. “I’ll be your wedding photographer.”
“I’ll help plan the wedding. I love that stuff,” Trina said.
“Hold up, guys. He hasn’t asked me yet.”
“It’s only a matter of time. That man adores you.” Avery unfolded from the couch to refill her glass. “So now that we have the obligatory ‘Is Shannon dating’ questions out of the way, and ‘Where is Reed on the commitment meter’ conversation behind us, I think maybe it’s time to dig into what is eating at Trina that made her ditch us.”
Three sets of eyes turned on her.
“Is this an intervention?”
Lori shook her head. “Give it up, Trina, what’s going on in your head?”
After sucking in a long breath and blowing it out slowly, Trina tried to form her emotions into words. “I don’t know what to do. I thought I could find a place at Everson Oil, and maybe I still can, but it feels like everyone there is placating me. My financial goals when I married Fedor are completely obsolete now. I have all the money in the world and nothing to do. I have no cause, no reason to get out of bed in the morning and face the day.”
All the stares in the room turned to worry.
Trina went on. “I started having dreams about Fedor about a month ago.”
Lori set her glass down. “What kind of dreams?”
“Memories. His body . . .” She closed her eyes and tried to erase the image that would forever live with her. The housekeeper had found him after he shot himself, and started screaming. By the time Trina made her way to his detached office at their home in the Hamptons, the entire household staff was there. She rushed into the room to see Fedor at his desk, lifeless, blood everywhere. She only had one look before two people pushed her out of the room and called the police. Once the coroner removed him, and the authorities cleared the room for her to go into, she didn’t. They’d hired an outside company to clean the space, paint the walls, and replace the rug. Trina knew the work had been done, but she never went into the room again. Within a month of his death, Lori had pulled her, along with Avery and Shannon, onto a ship to cruise the Mediterranean to help her forget the tragedy. When she returned, she packed her personal belongings, sealed up the Hamptons house, and moved to Texas.
“Why now?” Avery asked quietly.
“I don’t know. Maybe because it’s been a year. I’ve been thinking of selling the house. Before I do that, I should probably go there and make sure anything personal of Fedor’s is found and given to his aunts.”
“You don’t have to do that. You can hire—”
Trina interrupted Lori. “No. I need to do it. I need to face that home and the memories that are there in order to move on. Do you realize I was still wearing Fedor’s ring until last week? Who does that? We weren’t even married for love and forever.”
“I noticed you put it back on when you moved to Texas,” Avery said. “I didn’t want to ask.”
“It started out of respect at the company. I was there a lot, and the ring reminded people that I had been Fedor’s wife. People expected me to be the mourning widow. Young widows wear their wedding rings.”
“Makes sense,” Shannon said.
“It’s been a year, and the ring is gone, and with it the obligation of playing the sad widow.” That was her plan, in any event.
“It sounds like you have a direction,” Lori said.
“Maybe. I wouldn’t mind a divine sign from above letting me know I’m not on a detour that’s just going to lead me back to walking in circles.”
“Like Wade Thomas?” Shannon asked.
Avery scoffed.
Lori leaned forward. “Have you received any letters from Alice yet?”
Trina shook her head. “The mystery letters from the grave have yet to show up.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they are triggered by the anniversary of her death,” Lori said.
Alice had told Trina, in her will, that letters would be sent explaining Alice’s reasons for her final wishes regarding the estate. An estate that should have been left to Fedor. Alice was already in a coma when Fedor killed himself, so it wasn’t as if she knew that Fedor wouldn’t be around to collect. The entire thing baffled Trina’s mind. For the better part of the year, she’d managed to not think about Alice’s motives. Only now, that was all Trina seemed to contemplate when she was left alone with her thoughts.
And she was alone with her thoughts a lot.
“When did she die?” Avery asked.
“Sixteen days after Fedor.” Trina looked between each of the women in silence. “His death was a year ago tomorrow.”
Silence met her words.
Then Avery added, “Sounds like a good reason to get drunk.”
“Or date a cowboy.” Shannon winked.
For a moment, Trina felt herself smile. Maybe learning the two-step was a good idea, so long as the dance was in the forward motion of moving along in her life.
Chapter Nine
Wade stood to the side of the arena and had yet to be noticed. His mother, the only woman in his life he’d ever really loved with all his heart, rode a six-year-old mare she’d named Nelly. When he was a kid and had run through their one-bedroom apartment instead of walking, his mama would shout out, “Whoa, Nelly . . . where you going to so fast?” Wade wasn’t sure where the name Nelly had come from, but he’d promised his mother that one day he’d buy her a horse named Nelly. Sure enough, Nelly was sniffing out what looked like carrots from his mama’s hand.
It was good to be home.
Wade pulled out a sugar cube he’d snagged from the kitchen before he’d headed out to the barns in hopes of reminding the few horses he had that he was the one to suck up to. He extended his hand over the fence and made a clicking noise in the back of his throat.
The noise didn’t capture his mother’s attention, but Nelly tossed her head back once before she sauntered his way. That’s when his mother looked up.
Her sandy blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her smile warmed his heart. His mother was a beautiful woman who didn’t have to do anything other than grin to achieve attention.
“Well, look who found his way home,” she said as she followed her horse to his side.
Wade ducked under the split-rail fence and lifted his palm to Nelly to give her the treat.
When his mother reached his side, he wrapped both arms around her, lifting her off her feet, and kissed her cheek.
“Put me down,” she teased.
“Not till I’m done.”
A couple of good squeezes later, he kept her upright as he set her back on the hot Texas dirt.
She placed both hands on the side of his face, her smile reaching her eyes. “You look . . .” She paused. “Not tired. You’re always tired when you come home.”
“I took a couple days to rest.”
“So that’s why you’re home late. I was expecting you earlier.”
“I told Ike to let you know I wasn’t returning right away.”
“Yeah, yeah, but I didn’t know that was days and not hours.”
“I’m sure you figured it out.” He draped his arm over her shoulders. “What did I miss around here?”
“Nothin’. Horses are healthy, Betty Ann is still trying to teach me how to make a proper pie crust, and Sal has started threatening to construct an electric fence around the property to keep your adoring fans from wandering in.”
Wade peered past the barns and horses. “That would be a very big fence.”
She laughed. “I missed you, Little Pup.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll be home for a while. Long enough for you to get sick of me and tell me to go on tour again.”
“If I get sick of you, I’ll find a nice beach in Florida to stretch out on.”
Wade couldn’t help but think of the sandy stretch of beach he and Trina had watched during the storm. What was she doing right now? Still nursing a hangover, or tipping a few back with her girlfriends? What a protective lot they were. Usually he was a hit with the girl squad when he put his focus on one of them. Not Trina’s friends. Good thing his ego was firmly in check or he would have been offended. But as one of his songs told the world, being humble in the face of fame is the only way to live. Keep it real, his mother always preached.
“Someone got quiet.”
He squeezed her shoulder and let her go. “I’m hungry,” he told her. Suggesting he had a woman on his mind would only prompt questions, and he had a few of his own tickling his head before he dealt with his mother’s. Would Trina use the number he typed into her phone? When would he use the one he jacked from hers? Maybe if he gave her a day or two . . . enough time for him to look up a bit about his competition. A dead ex was hard to navigate, not that he’d done that before.