Heart Song Anthology by Carolyn Faulkner (summer reads txt) 📗

Harold, and he was perfect for her. He was a sensitive, bearded, politically left-wing jazz musician and widower, and – as luck would have it – an undercover narcotics cop. (Luckily, Naomi wasn’t the kind to bear a grudge. I still get a Christmas card from her every year, from a federal prison out in Wyoming.)

“The thing with Naomi was just really bad luck,” I insisted, beginning to pout a little, for sympathy. “But this situation is entirely different. I don’t see why you’re so set against it. Charlie’s a great guy, and all Sandy and I want to do is to make him a little happier than he is.”

“Charlie’s already happy,” Neil said wearily. “Hell, Charlie’s the happiest guy I know. Charlie invested wisely and retired early. Charlie’s got no kids, a thirty-five foot Chris-Craft, and all his weekends free. Charlie lives in a high-rise condominium, and gets to sit on his balcony and watch someone else trim the shrubbery and mow the damned lawn. Charlie drives a car with less than a hundred thousand miles on it that doesn’t have a balding tire and a lag in the transmission. What else does he need?”

“He still needs someone to love,” I said stubbornly.

“He loves Emily.”

“Emily is an Irish Setter,” I pointed out.

Neil grinned. “Yeah, but she’s got long, red hair, a terrific disposition, and she never drags him out to the mall, or to PTA meetings. Besides all that, Charlie once told me that she sleeps with him every night, keeps his feet warm, and never hogs the bed. The all-round perfect female.”

“Janet is an attorney, a very intelligent and interesting person, and quite attractive,” I argued. “And she has beautiful red hair.”

“The red hair’s out of a bottle, and okay, she’s attractive, once you get past the fact that everything on her has been surgically enhanced.”

“She’s in a highly competitive field,” I countered. “She needs to look her best.”

“The only women who need breasts the size of cantaloupes are strippers, and hookers,” he shot back. “Not defense lawyers. I’m sorry, Beth. I know you admire Janet for how far she’s gotten, and I can take her in small doses, but I wouldn’t wish her on my worst enemy as a wife. She’s dead sure she’s right about everything and she never shuts up about where she’s been and who she knows that’s important. High-powered women like Janet eat nice guys like poor old Charlie for breakfast.”

I sniffed. “That’s insulting. I hate men who can’t deal with women as equals.”

“Nobody’s equal to Janet. She’d scare the pants off Leonardo Da Vinci and Albert Einstein. I’ll tell you what, though. Call Charlie and let him know what’s up. If he agrees to come up there and get ambushed by the three of you, that’s fine. If he doesn’t, you promise to call the whole thing off. Okay?”

“How much do I have to tell him?”

“Just tell him that there’s a single woman coming to this shindig that you and Sandy think he might like.”

“That’s all?” I asked, a bit suspicious.

“That’s it.”

“And you won’t say anything negative about Janet to him? Okay, you’re right about one thing. She does take some getting used to.”

“I won’t even mention it – or her,” Neil swore, raising his right hand. “Since he retired, I almost never see Charlie, anyway. I’ll refer any inquiries about this fabulous weekend back to you. How’s that?”

And so, it was agreed. I would suggest to Janet that I might be inviting an attractive, well-educated man I wanted her to meet. Someone I really didn’t know too much about, but who came highly recommended. A man of mystery. With Charlie, it was even simpler. If it became necessary, I’d just lie through my teeth and trust that an accidental mention of over-sized breasts and long, luxurious, auburn hair would do the job. By the time Neil found out about my deception, the budding romance between Charlie and Janet would be well underway, and the sore rear end I could definitely look forward to for all my hard work would be worth every yelp.

I had Sandy call Charlie that afternoon, and invite him for a skiing weekend – with she and Joe, and Neil and I. No mention of anyone else. And since Charlie accepted the invitation without inquiring about any other guests, it wasn’t a real lie, right? Not exactly, anyway. Charlie loved to ski, the weather channel was predicting clear skies and perfect snow on the mountain, and I had just purchased a new black satin nightgown that made me look ten pounds thinner – in the right light. A lovely time would be had by all. And to make my Valentine’s Day perfect, Neil’s mother had volunteered to keep our kids for the whole weekend. (She’d also vowed solemnly not to give them away to the first roving band of gypsies that wandered by, no matter what her adorable grandchildren did to her spotless home in our brief absence.)

Chapter 2

The first day of our fabulous Valentine’s Day weekend dawned slightly foggy, and a lot colder than the last few days. But the weather channel was still predicting clearing skies as Neil and I pulled out of the driveway, with Janet in the back seat, wedged between the piles of crap she was taking that wouldn’t fit in the trunk. Sandy had gone up several days earlier to get the house ready, and Joe and Charlie had driven up together the night before, bringing everybody’s skiing gear with them. Joe had assured Neil that it was only a three-hour drive to the cabin, but before we were even halfway there, it already seemed like more like eight, with Janet leaning over the seat every two minutes to suggest a better route or correct something about Neil’s driving. His turns were too slow, and he signaled too early, according to her. He drove under the speed limit, just like an old-fogey senior citizen. He allowed too much distance from the