Saving Phoebe Murrow: A Novel Read Online Free PDF

Plus, the golf team gave her as much time away from home as she wanted. Her mother definitely hadn’t missed her. Immersed in the sport, she could imagine another kind of life than the one she’d gotten stuck with.
    Now, standing in her closet, she longed for a simple night of duck pins with Bill at their club; she longed for that hushed moment when her ball glided down the lane – her body bending and twisting to influence the ball’s trajectory – and then the clattering noise, the nanoseconds of suspense, her breath held, awaiting the outcome. How many pins had her ball knocked over? When she got a strike, she often squealed or shrieked, all eyes turning toward her. And she basked in the glow of their attention.
    But tonight there’d be no bowling. No, she and Bill would be mingling with the parents of all the ninth grade students at the Thomas’s ritzy home in historic Georgetown. A mansion, Jessie’d called it. Though Sandy could hardly wait to see the inside, meeting the new parents gave her heartburn.
    She knew that most, if not all, these folks would have advanced degrees, but especially law degrees. In fact, she’d memorized a line of Sandra Day O’Connor’s to get a laugh at cocktail parties: “There’s no shortage of lawyers in Washington. In fact, there may be more lawyers than people.” If necessary, she’d quickly refer to her as the first woman on the Supreme Court who’d recently stepped down. But there her knowledge ended. And, the fact remained these people were smart with a capital S, while Sandy had barely eked out a diploma from a college in Baltimore, not known for its brilliant students.
    All those degrees brought on long moments of suffering, especially when they trotted out the latest in domestic and foreign affairs, and references to concepts she couldn’t care less about and often had never heard of. While she longed to penetrate the women’s cliques, she felt more comfortable around the men. Despite their highbrow talk, she knew they were vulnerable to her charms. She giggled. Highbrow . Not part of her vocabulary, though on occasion she’d drop it and other such words into conversations. Sandy’s instinct to fit in kept her sharp.
    She pulled a red, low-cut, jersey dress out of the closet. Held it before her in the full-length mirror. It had possibilities. Though maybe a little too bright. She knew this crowd of women tended to wear black to evening gatherings. Like going to a funeral, she thought. She tossed the red dress onto her bed and picked up the phone. She’d call Isabel and find out what she was wearing. Perhaps this was the kind of call that would help her connect with Phoebe’s mom. She was impossibly busy and never had time for her.
    As the phone rang, she glanced at her watch. Isabel had once asked her not to call during business hours, except maybe at lunchtime or in case of an emergency with the girls. Sandy had felt the “request” to be rude and unfriendly, but now it made her nervous to be calling. Still, it was close to noon, so maybe that qualified as lunchtime.
    â€œHello? Isabel Winthrop here.”
    Her officious greeting made Sandy hesitate before launching in. “Hey, it’s me, Sandy, hope this isn’t a bad time? How are ya?”
    After a slight hesitation, Isabel answered, “I’m fine. What can I do for you?”
    Sandy cringed at her businesslike tone. And she didn’t sound fine. Not really. “Well, I was just wondering what you’re planning to wear tonight? To the parents’ party, I mean. I figured you’d know what’s appropriate, you being a room parent and all? One of the hosts, you know?” Sandy’s nerves were getting the better of her.
    â€œIt was on the invitation, wasn’t it? Business attire, I think we said, since some people will be going there straight from work.”
    Was that a dig? Sandy wondered, since