Rachel Goddard 01 - The Heat of the Moon

dressed in Bermuda shorts and tee-shirts or sun dresses. These people, all psychiatrists and psychologists, were Theo’s friends, not Mother’s. Many had been his students decades ago and were in the habit of attending Renee’s July 4 party.
    I worked the drinks table, handing out glasses of chilled white wine and cans of cold beer. Every few seconds I scanned the driveway for Luke. Mother stood next to the table, greeting her guests.
    Melinda Morse, a tiny woman with moist bush baby eyes, grasped Mother’s hand and said in a whispery voice, “I always appreciate the invitation, Judith. Since Robert died, and with my son living so far away—”
    I saw Mother’s gaze shift beyond Dr. Morse and lock on something, someone. Luke was rounding the corner of the house onto the patio. Mother looked at me, brows lifted inquiringly.
    “I invited him.” I handed Dr. Morse a glass of white wine. She murmured her gratitude and crept away into the crowd.
    “Well,” Mother said, “you’re certainly entitled to invite a friend.” As Luke approached she put on a brilliant smile. “Hello, Dr. Campbell. I’m glad you could come.”
    She didn’t give him a chance to answer, but exclaimed that she’d forgotten the rest of the appetizers, and vanished into the house. Luke leaned to kiss me lightly and murmured, “Better than being shot on sight.”
    Michelle didn’t bother to put on a show of civility. She returned Luke’s greeting with a cold glare, then turned her back on him.
    I was still steaming over that when Theo arrived.
    “Rachel.” He squeezed my hand and studied my face. “How have you been?”
    “I’m okay, Theo.” I withdrew my hand and cast a quick glance around, making sure Mother wasn’t in earshot.
    Theo stepped closer, keeping his voice low. “I’ve felt terribly guilty all week. I know it was my fault. I didn’t adequately prepare you. Why don’t you come see me this weekend and we can get into some of your issues in more depth.”
    I located Mother, with a knot of people twenty feet away. But she was watching us with an alert expression. Suddenly I was certain Michelle had betrayed my confidence.
    Mindful of her gaze on us, I stepped back from Theo and said, “This is my friend, Luke Campbell.”
    “Ah.” Theo was instantly distracted, his keen dark eyes making a quick assessment of the man before him.
    “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you,” Luke said, shaking Theo’s hand. “Rachel tells me you’re originally from Athens. I spent a week in Greece one summer when I was in college, and I’ve always wanted to go back.”
    In seconds they were talking about Theo’s family and background.
    I left them and followed Michelle into the kitchen. “Did you have to be so rude to Luke?” I said, sliding the patio door shut. 
    “You know, Mother’s a good judge of people.” She lifted a big blue bowl of potato salad from the refrigerator and pushed the fridge door shut with her elbow. “You ought to pay more attention to her opinion.”
    Through the glass doors I saw Luke and Theo at the far end of the patio, Luke with his hands in his jeans pockets, Theo leaning on his cane, gazing out over the flower beds as they chatted. Mother circulated among the other guests, but her head swiveled toward the two of them every few seconds.
    “What did you tell Mother?” I said.
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Michelle sailed past me with her chin up and the blue bowl in her hands, but her exit was blocked by the closed patio doors. She tried to shift the bowl, cradle it in one arm so she could open a door with her free hand, but the bowl was too big and slippery. She grunted in frustration.
    I slid back the door. Her gaze met mine for a second, and in her eyes I thought I saw a glimmer of apprehension.
    “God, what a dull bunch of people,” Luke whispered when we managed to separate ourselves from the crowd and meet in a corner of the patio.
    He’d discovered that a collection of shrinks talked about the same mundane things anybody else would: politics, the break in the heat, the drought that had them watering their lawns and gardens for hours every week.
    “And they all want me to diagnose their cats and dogs, sight unseen,” he said. “That guy talking to your mother, he spent ten minutes describing some skin problem his Lab’s developed, and he got a little huffy when I told him to take the dog to his own vet. What a jerk.”
    I laughed, watching Max