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“Good job!” Caroline slapped Abby on the back. “Just wait until we’re in class with you. We’ll bolster up your spirits.”

  “And by January, you’ll be in the best shape ever,” Janie said optimistically.

  “You really think so?” Abby tried not to sound too negative as she picked up her heavy bag, but she could not imagine working out with her energetic, trim friends urging her to try harder. No, today had opened her eyes. It was hopeless.

  “You’ll see. Next time will be better,” Caroline said kindly.

  Abby wanted to tell them there was not going to be a next time, but she had no intention of confessing her failure in front of all these women, especially Trixie. More than that, she wondered how she would break the news to Paul. Even if he didn’t say, “I told you so,” he would be thinking it. She would see it in his eyes. He would add today’s failure to his already long list of her shortcomings. Then he’d stick it in his pocket and save it for the next time he wanted to give her a reality check.

  Chapter 2

  Janie

  After their workout, Janie and Caroline usually treated themselves to a smoothie at the juice bar. While they were waiting for their order, Janie checked her phone messages. It wasn’t as if her law practice was really taking off, but she did have a couple of pro bono clients whom she tried to be available to, and after years of the fast pace in Manhattan, she still found it difficult to disconnect completely.

  The first message was from Victor, inviting her to dinner as well as a Christmas concert on Friday. Naturally, she would accept. But it was the second message that made her look for a chair—she needed to sit down to hear this one.

  “Hi, Mom,” said a flat-sounding voice. “This is Lisa. Remember me?” Lisa’s laugh was hollow. “Well, anyway, Matthew keeps telling me to call you. So guess what? I’m calling you. But as usual, you’re not there. You never really were there, were you? Don’t bother checking your caller ID to call me back. This is a pay phone, and I’ll be gone by the time you listen to this. Same old, same old. I’m gone, and you’re not there. Bye, Mom.”

  Janie felt her heart sinking. Despite Lisa saying not to call back, she checked the caller ID. It did look like a pay phone. Also, the call had been placed more than an hour ago. Lisa probably was gone by now.

  “Are you okay?” Caroline asked as she set their smoothies on the table. “You look like you just saw a ghost or something.”

  Janie swallowed hard and then shook her head. “Just a voice mail … from my daughter.”

  Caroline blinked. “Lisa?”

  Janie nodded, surprised that Caroline could even remember Lisa’s name. She had only mentioned her daughter a few times to her friends. Lisa wasn’t exactly a happy subject in Janie’s life. “I wish I hadn’t missed her call.”

  “Call her back.” Caroline stuck her straw in her drink.

  Janie explained why that wasn’t possible.

  “Oh. You mean she doesn’t even have a cell phone?”

  Janie shrugged. “She might. But if she does, she doesn’t want me to know that number. She’s very secretive.”

  Caroline leaned forward a bit. “Do you think she’s still doing drugs?” she asked quietly.

  “It’s hard to say. She’s told Matthew that she’s not, but that might just be to get money from him. She knows that I won’t give her money anymore. I’ve promised her help and airline tickets and a place to live, but I just can’t dole out any more cash to her. It’s like handing her a loaded gun.”

  “Yeah, that’s wise on your part.”

  “It’s just so hard.” Janie felt like tears were close.

  Caroline reached over and put a hand over Janie’s. “But, hey, she called you, Janie. Think about that. I mean how long has it been, anyway?”

  Janie did think about that. “A while.”

  “So maybe she’s coming around, you know?”

  “I just wish I’d been there for her. That’s what she always used to say … that I was never there for her. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone back to work when I did.” Janie sighed. “But the kids were in their teens. They seemed so grown up. And the way I was raised—you know how my parents were so checked out and distant—I suppose it taught me to be fairly independent. I guess I thought if it worked for me, it should work for them.”

  “Seems like it’s working with Matthew. He’s doing pretty good, isn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Janie agreed. “He is.”

  “Everyone knows that when drugs come into the picture, everything changes. You can’t blame yourself for that, Janie. It’s not like you introduced Lisa to drugs.”

  “No, of course not. While Phil was sick … well, it was hard on all of us. I was so distracted with caring for him and figuring everything out. Matthew used school and friends as his escape. Lisa … well, you know what she did.”

  “But she called you,” Caroline said hopefully. “Don’t you think that means something? Maybe she wants to come visit you for Christmas.”

  “Maybe.” Or maybe, and more likely, she just wanted money.

  “Is Matthew going to come out here for Christmas?”

  “I’m not sure. I invited him, but he’s got that new girlfriend, and I’m afraid he’s going to decide to go to her place instead.”

  “For all of winter break?” Caroline frowned. “Seems like he could come out here for just a little visit. He hasn’t even seen how you fixed up your parents’ old house.”

  “Speaking of parents’ old houses, now that everything’s all settled with your mom’s estate and the insurance and everything, what do you plan to do with your house?”

  “You mean besides hire a bulldozer to flatten it?”

  “You wouldn’t do that.”

  Caroline shrugged. “I don’t know. Mostly I just want to move on—to be rid of it once and for all, and all the memories that go with it.”

  “I remember feeling like that too. Overwhelmed.” Janie took a sip of her smoothie. It was hard to believe how much she’d changed in the past four or five months. More than ever she wished that Lisa would call her back and have a real conversation. Better yet, she wished Lisa would come to visit and see how much her mother had changed. “I wanted to be rid of my folks’ place too,” she admitted. “But now I’m glad to have it.”

  “I honestly don’t think I’ll ever feel that way, Janie. Really, I should just sell it.”

  “As is?” Janie doubted that Caroline could even find a buyer for a partially burnt house. Certainly no mortgage company would finance a property like that.

  “Maybe. It’s such a wreck.”

  “But if you fixed it up, we’d be neighbors again. I loved it when you were only a couple of blocks away.”

  Caroline seemed to consider this. “It’d be so much work, so much money.”

  “You have the insurance money. And the work could be good therapy. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed fixing up my parents’ old house.”

  “Yeah, but you had Abby to help you. Now she’s got the bed-and-breakfast to keep her busy. Did you know she’s got real guests coming next weekend, staying for a whole week?”

  “Good for her.” Despite her partnership in Abby’s business venture, Janie usually tried not to think too much about Abby’s bed-and-breakfast. Mostly she wanted to remain a silent partner, but sometimes it was tricky, because she knew Abby had to get the inn up and running in order to keep up with her loan payments. “But back to you, Caroline. I really think it would be good for you to renovate your mom’s house. You know, watch something that seems worthless and hopeless come back to life, better than it’s ever been. You could think of your work as a job, because you’d be investing in your future.”

  “Except that I don’t know anything about that stuff. I’ve always lived in apartments or condos with other people to take ca
re of maintenance and things. I don’t even know how to paint.”

  “I was the same way,” Janie reminded her, “but it’s not that hard to figure things out. Maybe I could help you. I learned a lot doing my house.”

  Caroline looked slightly interested. “Do you think there’s any way my house could look as good as yours? Or even close?”

  “I don’t see why not. Don’t forget that, right now, your backyard looks a lot better than mine.”

  Caroline smiled. “Thanks to my friends.”

  “Remember when you thought that was impossible? Yet we managed to do it, and without you even knowing it.”

  “I still go out there and sit sometimes when the weather’s good. I think Chuck likes it better than the backyard at the bed-and-breakfast. More room to chase a ball. It’s a nice yard.”

  “See, already there’s something there worth saving. You should at least think it over. Because even if you decide sell it, you’d probably have to do some fixing up anyway. Why not just go for it?”

  “Maybe I will.” Caroline nodded. “Maybe so.”

  For the rest of the day and all day Tuesday, Janie kept her phone charged and on and close by. If Lisa called, she planned to be there—Johnny-on-the-spot. But Lisa didn’t call. Even when Janie went to the fitness club Wednesday morning, she planned to zip her phone into her workout-pants pocket. “Where’s Abby?” she asked Caroline as they were getting ready to go to their circuit-training class.

  “Not coming,” Caroline glumly informed her.

  “Why not?”

  “She said it’s too hard.”

  Janie reached for her phone, punched the speed dial, and as soon as Abby answered, Janie let her have it. “Abby, you need to get yourself over here right now. You made a commitment, and even if Caroline and I have to drag you through the paces, you’re going to do it.”

  “When did you become an army sergeant?” Abby asked drolly.

  “Where are you right now?” Janie barked.

  “The B and B.”

  “Good. It’ll take you two minutes to get here. Now get going or else!”

  “Or else what?”

  “Do you really want me to tell you?” Janie thought hard. “Don’t forget we are business partners, Abigail Franklin. Running a bed-and-breakfast is hard work, and your health is almost as important to me as it should be to you. Now get yourself over here immediately!” She hung up.

  “Do you think that’ll work?” Caroline looked skeptical.

  Janie shrugged as she pocketed her phone. “It was worth a try.”

  “It would’ve worked on me,” Caroline told her as they did some stretches.

  Janie laughed. “Abby thought I sounded like an army sergeant.”

  Caroline nodded with wide blue eyes. “You did. Remind me to stay on your good side.”

  “Well, Abby needs friends like us. Sometimes she does give up too easily. I know she wants to get in shape. She’s always talking about it.”

  “Except you know what they say. Talk is cheap.”

  But just as they were heading down the hall to the class, Janie saw Abby entering the building. She looked partly angry and partly scared.

  “Come on,” Janie told her as they met her at the registration desk. “Just bring your bag with you so we’re not late.” Then she and Caroline escorted Abby to class, where they corralled her between the two of them and coached and cajoled and encouraged and threatened and bribed her to complete a full hour of circuit training. Sure, she didn’t always have any weights on the machines and sometimes her feet were moving pretty slowly, but at least she made it to the end.

  “Congratulations,” Janie told her.

  “Thanks a lot,” Abby said a bit breathlessly.

  “You did it.” Caroline patted her on the back as they exited the room.

  Abby sighed as she picked up her gym bag from where they’d left it by the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have decided to do my showering at home today.”

  “Why?” Janie asked.

  Abby glared at her. “Because I want to.”

  Caroline frowned. “But we always get smoothies afterward and you—”

  “Look,” Abby shot at her, “you two may have bullied me into coming here, but I will not be bullied into parading my flabby, saggy body around a locker room filled with a bunch of fitness freaks, thank you very much!” And with that she turned from them and marched toward the front door and left.

  “Well.” Janie just shook her head. “You’d think she didn’t even appreciate us working out with her.”

  “The thanks we get!” Caroline laughed.

  They were almost to the dressing room when Janie felt the vibrating buzzer of her phone. She’d turned the sound off because she knew she wouldn’t hear it above the noise anyway. “You go ahead, I want to get this,” she told Caroline as she unzipped her pocket and pulled out her phone. “Hello?”

  There was no sound on the other end.

  “Hello?” Janie said again, moving over by the foyer in case she was having a bad connection. “This is Janie Sorenson.” She wanted to check her caller ID but didn’t want to move the phone from her ear.

  “Mom?”

  “Lisa!” Janie said happily. “Is that you, sweetheart?”

  “Mom?”

  “Yes! It’s me.”

  “Mom—” Lisa’s voice broke, and she was crying.

  “Lisa, are you okay? What’s the matter?”

  “I … I want to come home.”

  Janie felt tears filling her eyes. “Yes, sweetheart, I want you to come home too.”

  “But where is that?”

  “Where is what?”

  “Where is home?”

  “Oh.” Janie knew what Lisa meant. Her daughter was remembering where she’d grown up, thinking of their apartment in Manhattan. “Well, Lisa, they say home is where the heart is. My heart is here in Clifden, Oregon. I really hope that you’ll think of it as your home too.”

  “Oregon?” Lisa sounded disgusted. “You mean where your parents lived? You’ve really moved there for good?”

  “Yes.” Janie knew that Lisa knew this already. But she also knew that Lisa’s mind wasn’t always working the way it was meant to work. “I think you’ll like it here,” Janie said calmly. “The ocean is beautiful.”

  “The ocean?” Lisa’s tone grew slightly wistful.

  “Tell me where you are,” Janie said gently. “I’ll come and get you.”

  Lisa told her she was in Phoenix, staying with friends, but that she couldn’t stay with them much longer. “You could just send me money for a plane ticket,” Lisa suggested.

  “I’d rather come out there,” Janie told her. “I’d like to see Phoenix. Then we could fly back together.”

  “I don’t know.” Lisa was getting cold feet. “Just wire me some money, Mom. It’ll be a lot cheaper that way.”

  “I want to come get you,” Janie insisted. “I want to use my frequent-flyer miles. And that means I have to fly with you.” That was actually a lie, but after years of being lied to by Lisa, Janie thought it was an acceptable lie—anything to get her daughter back with her, to help her.

  “I don’t know, Mom. I need to think about this.”

  Then as Janie was explaining why this was the best plan, she got that sense that she was talking into the airwaves. “Lisa?” she said. No answer. “Are you there?” She looked at her phone and saw that they were no longer connected. Lisa had hung up. She checked the caller ID, and, seeing it was a pay phone, she tried it. Of course, that didn’t work. The pay phone wasn’t set up to receive calls. Janie blinked back tears as she slowly walked to the women’s locker room.

  Why did it always have to be so hard with Lisa? Couldn’t she see how badly she was hurting hers
elf? How badly she was hurting the ones who loved her? She didn’t trust her own mother—and Janie would gladly die for her daughter. Instead, Lisa would trust her so-called friends. Lisa would put her life in the hands of thugs and addicts and pushers. But she wouldn’t even let her own mother pick her up at an airport and bring her home. What would it take to get through to her?

  Chapter 3

  Marley

  Marley was incredibly fulfilled in her reinvented life. Painting to her heart’s content in her compact beach bungalow on the Oregon coast was beyond anything she’d ever dreamed of. Even the hermit factor didn’t bother her too much. Plus, having her three Linda friends nearby, not to mention Abby’s mother right next door, was more than enough to keep her social calendar full. But the icing on her happy cake was her blooming romance with gallery owner Jack Holland. She was glad neither of them felt any urgency to move things along. They had set a perfect pace at this stage of the game. Really, life was good! And having recently entered into a very real relationship with God—what more could she want?

  Yet something felt slightly amiss today. She couldn’t put her finger on it exactly—just this feeling of uneasiness. Perhaps it was how animals felt before an earthquake or a tsunami. She looked out over the ocean, but all looked normal, peaceful, soothing. She finished off the last of her coffee and told herself it was probably just midweek madness. It was an old malady that she should’ve put far behind her by now, but sometimes old habits died hard. Back in her early thirties, about the same time her marriage hit the skids, Wednesdays had always depressed her. Her son, Ashton, had been getting old enough not to need her so much, and her husband’s workweek started on Wednesdays and ran through the weekend. Marley would pack his little black wheeled bag with freshly laundered and ironed clothes, and he would happily head off, piloting commercial airplanes to some interesting-sounding connection (including some connections with a few flight attendants). She’d be stuck at home, playing the perfect housewife. Although a part of her was relieved to have John out of her hair on Wednesdays, another part of her would become depressed over her sad little life. Thus she called it her midweek madness.