Both of her sisters shot her a glare.
“What?” Katrina lifted her wineglass. “We’re not allowed to mention the elephant on the deck?”
Darby couldn’t help but smile. “Close your eyes,” she told them all. “Listen.”
She closed her own eyes, hearing the chirp of the birds, the rustle of the wind, the slight buzz of bumblebees and the faint gurgle of the wavelets on shore.
“Inhale deeply,” she told them. “Now open your eyes. Take a look around.”
The three women twisted their heads, taking in the meadows, the forest, the lake, the mountains and the blue sky.
“I don’t want to lose this,” Darby said softly. “I’ve stayed in hot, dusty deserts, ravaged by mortar shells and sandstorms, where the sky was blotted out by smoke in the day, or lit up by explosions and fires at night. You couldn’t sleep more than an hour without being woken by gunfire or helicopters or the cries of the wounded. The water was polluted, and the air acrid.”
She didn’t add that many of Sierra Hotel’s clients experienced exactly the same things, and far more recently than Darby. And they returned to it after their retreat. Others experienced the tension of inner-city gangs and the threat of harm or death on a daily basis.
“You were in combat?” Abigail asked.
“Mostly inside the wire,” said Darby. “But I saw what combat did to others.”
“Have you told Seth all this?” asked Mandy.
“Believe me, I’ve told Seth everything I can think of that might sway him.”
“Hello?” came a man’s voice in the distance, followed swiftly by footfalls around the corner of the house.
“That’s our brother Travis,” Abigail said.
“Girls’ party back here,” Mandy called from behind the latticework that partially concealed the deck.
The footsteps stopped. “Who’s all here?”
“Hey, Travis,” Abigail called.
“Abigail?”
“Yep. Me, Mandy and Katrina.”
“I’m looking for Darby.”
“She’s here, too.”
“I’m sorry to intrude, Darby,” Travis said. “I brought someone up to see you. His name’s Evan Parry, and his mother is a friend of mine. He wants to apologize to you for the other night.”
Darby very much doubted Evan wanted to do anything of the sort. Still, she couldn’t help but be impressed by Travis’s actions. Evan should be made to stand up and explain. And it would be good to impress upon the kid just how dangerous and misguided his actions had been.
“I’ll meet you in the great room,” she called to Travis.
The gangly, thin-faced Evan was standing in the middle of her great room, shoulders stooped, head bent, longish hair partially covering his eyes. Travis stood behind him, arms folded across his chest, a grim expression on his face.
“Hello, Evan,” Darby said.
The boy stayed silent.
Travis nudged him on the back of the shoulder.
“I’m here to say I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“Look at her,” said Travis.
Evan shot a brief glare at Travis, but then raised his chin to look at Darby.
“Again,” Travis ordered.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” said Evan.
“Sorry for what?” she asked him levelly, not willing to let him off the hook too easily.
She saw a glint of admiration in Travis’s eyes.
“I’m sorry we frightened you.”
“You put us in real danger,” Darby pointed out.
“We never—”
“Evan,” Travis warned.
Evan swallowed. “I’m sorry if we put anybody in danger. And I’m sorry we trespassed. And I’m sorry we scared you.”
“I don’t believe you,” said Darby.
Evan’s pale blue eyes hardened in anger.
“It seems like you’re saying what you think I want to hear.”
“I’m sayin’ what my mom told me I had to say.”
“I don’t want you to say you’re sorry, Evan,” said Darby. “I want you to understand what you did.”
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t. You committed a crime. You shot a weapon. Somebody could have been hurt or killed. You could have been arrested and ended up with a criminal record. Try getting into college with that hanging over your head. And I don’t know if anyone told you, but I fought in the army. If I’d had a weapon, if you’d pointed that gun at me, I could have shot you dead. You’d be dead, Evan. Dead. I want you to understand that.”
Travis was looking at her with obvious amazement.
“And I would have shot and killed a sixteen-year-old boy for no good reason. You, dead. Me living with that mistake for the rest of my life. All because you made a colossal error in judgment. I want you to understand that.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Evan muttered, looking genuinely contrite for the first time.
“And I want to know what you’re going to do differently next time. Next time you’re drinking, or you get some asinine, testosterone-fueled idea in your head, or when one of your friends does it for you, I want to know how you’re going to make a better decision.”
Evan blinked in obvious confusion.
“Here’s a hint,” said Darby. “Think it through to the end, Evan. Think through every single thing that can go wrong, and where you’ll end up when it does—in jail or in the ground. Because it will go wrong. It always goes wrong.”
“It doesn’t always—”
“Evan,” Travis growled.
“It did this time,” Darby said more softly. “And I’m willing to bet a whole lot of money you didn’t expect it to go wrong.”
“We didn’t,” Evan admitted.
“You’re too old to behave like a child,” she told him.
He was silent for a long moment, and she could see the debate going on inside his brain. His pride was battling reality.
“I’m sorry,” he finally repeated.
“This time, I believe you. Thank you.”
He nodded.
“Wait for me in the car,” said Travis.
Evan didn’t need a second invitation. He all but ran across the room and rushed outside, closing the door behind him.
“That was well-done,” Travis told her, the look of amazement still there on his face.
“I hope it helps,” she responded.
“How about you?” Travis asked. “You okay?”
“Okay how?”
If he meant had she recovered from the boys’ prank, she was perfectly fine. It took a lot more than a couple of sixteen-year-olds to rattle her.
Travis nodded toward the kitchen and the back deck. “My sisters?”
“They stopped by. I’m giving them my side of the story,” Darby said, seeing no reason to lie.
“Is it working?”
“I don’t know yet.”
He paused for a long moment. “Seth’s worried about you,” he said.
“So I’ve heard.”
“But it seems to me that you’re not afraid of much.”
“I’m not afraid of Seth, if that’s what you mean.”
“It’s more than that,” said Travis. “And I’ve seen some of the women who come to stay here. They remind me of guys I know in the military, hard-core—”
“Thanks for stopping by, Travis.” Darby moved toward the door, expecting him to follow.
“It makes me wonder,” he mused as he did follow her, “with that kind of clientele, and given how oblique you are about this ladies’ retreat, what’s really going on up here?”
Darby smacked her hand onto the doorknob and rested it there. She thought through her next words. “Travis.”
“Yeah?”
“It would be better if you didn’t wonder.”
He was silent for a long moment. “Would it be better if I didn’t tell Seth?”
“It would be better if you didn’t tell anyone.”
He gave a crooked smile. “Our sisters. You’ve got guts, I’ll grant you that.”
* * *
Darby had made pastrami sandwiches on rye bread. She and the Jacobs sisters had laughed their way through the informal meal, and the lively conversation made her forget about co-opting them to her cause. They finished with chocolate cake before the three sisters headed back to town.
When Darby went out to pick up the glasses, she found half a bottle of wine was left. Dusk was falling, and the pot lights in the yard had automatically turned on. The lake and mountains were darkening, while cicadas came to life, and the wind whipped up the lake, pushing louder waves onto the sandy shore. She sighed, thinking Sierra Hotel was as close to heaven as humanly possible.
Thoughts of Seth and his family spinning through her mind, she opened up the big, whirlpool tub. Then she stripped off her clothes, poured some of the wine into a clean plastic glass from the outdoor cupboard and sank back into the warm water.