The Summerhouse (The Summerhouse 1)

“Nice place,” she said with a weak smile at him as she followed Roger up the stairs. She’d started to help her husband, but he’d jerked away from her, so she walked beside Frank.

As Madison stood on the porch, she looked at the lake that ran behind the house, crystal blue water as far as she could see. Great trees and boulders dotted the shoreline. There were no other people or cabins in sight. Nor were there boats on the water, and Madison was sure that Frank’s family owned everythi

ng within their vision.

“It’ll do,” Frank said with a little snort. “It’s from my wife’s family, not mine,” he said under his breath. “My dad was a plumber.”

It was as though he were reading her mind, and in thanks, Madison turned a dazzling smile on him.

For a moment Frank blinked at her. “And my mother took in washing,” he said, making Madison laugh. She knew the last statement was a lie and that he was saying it just to get her to smile again.

“And I have an uncle who’s a taxi driver.”

Madison was still laughing when she got to the door and she was glad because she needed to laugh. Running out of the house, their attention a hundred percent on Roger, were two pretty girls—and the very look of them cried out, “Money!” They had on those colorless clothes that looked the same in the store as they did after ten years of wearing. But Madison knew that they were clothes that cost what her mother had earned each year at three jobs.

The girls were pretty but not in an obvious way. If they wore any makeup, it was so light that it was impossible to detect. They were girls who lived by rules such as, Get dressed, then remove one piece of jewelry. Of course the jewelry they owned was real and it had been given to them by their grandparents.

Standing back and looking at them, Madison suddenly felt too tall, too made-up, too flashy. Once again, she wanted to run away from this place. She didn’t belong here.

Then, from out of the cabin came another girl, this one small and trim, with short, dark hair, big brown eyes, and as she stepped forward, the other two moved out of her way.

“Roger, darling,” she said quietly; then with what was certainly a practiced gesture, she stood on tiptoe, hooked one arm around Roger’s neck, drew his head down, and kissed him on the lips.

Beside her, Madison could feel Frank stiffen, but the odd thing was that Madison felt nothing. There was part of her that was standing to one side observing this action and remarking on it. “There’s a woman kissing my husband. I should be wildly jealous. I should be pushing her away.” But instead, Madison just stood there watching. When Roger had returned from college with a fiancée on his arm, Madison had been nearly insane with jealousy. Just to see the woman standing near the man Madison was so madly in love with had nearly pushed Madison over the edge.

But now all Madison thought was, Maybe someone else will look after him and I can have some peace and quiet.

It was Frank who broke them up. “Terri!” he said loudly, “I think there is someone here you should meet. This is Roger’s wife.”

At that all three of the young women turned to look at Madison. Terri still had her hand on Roger’s shoulder, and she didn’t look as though she meant to remove it.

“Wife?” one of the girls whispered, looking at Roger.

All Roger did was shrug, as though a wife were something that had happened to him and it wasn’t his concern.

As smoothly as he could, Frank introduced the three young women. There was his daughter, Nina, her cousin Terri, and Nina’s friend, Robbie.

When the three girls looked up at Madison—she was, after all, several inches taller than they were—she sighed, for there was hostility in their eyes. All Madison thought was, Too bad, for she would have liked to have made friends with them.

I don’t want this, Madison thought. It’s been too long a day for a cat fight. Turning, she smiled at Frank. “I think that flight has tired me out. Maybe you could show me . . . our room?” Her ego couldn’t resist that one little emphasis.

“Certainly,” Frank said, then made his way through the girls, Madison close behind him.

The inside of the “cabin” matched the exterior, with big, comfortable couches and chairs, Native American rugs that were probably now worth the earth scattered across the pine floors. They walked past a living room the size of a bus station. At one end was a fireplace made of rocks that had to have been set in place with a crane.

Down a hall, Frank opened a door and motioned her inside. There was one bed, one small clothes cupboard, a couple of little tables, and a chair. “We’ll have to switch rooms for you, since we didn’t know . . .”

“It’s fine,” she said, letting him off the hook.

“Don’t let them bother you. They’ve known Roger a long time, and he’s . . . well . . . ”

“He’s a catch,” Madison said, smiling at Frank. “I know. He’s rich and he’s good-looking. What else could they want?”

A frown crossed Frank’s face for a moment; then he gave her a small smile. “If you need anything, let us know,” he said as he put her suitcase on the floor, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

Within moments, Roger entered the room. Madison glanced up from her unpacking and saw that he was ready to start a fight.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t have been polite. These people are used to courtesy. Maybe you don’t know about manners like theirs, but—”