by Robyn Carr
“Logan, I’m sorry about that. That was the last thing I expected.”
“Don’t worry about it. I think I can get her a job if she’s interested in grilling hardcore criminals.”
“You handled it great, but I have no idea what she’s talking about—that I spend a lot of time with her dad. I don’t. At least, I sure don’t feel like I do. We try to coordinate plans so I know where Maddie’s going to be on a given—”
“I don’t think that had anything to do with her dad,” Logan said. “But I think we got a close view of her preference.”
“It makes no sense,” Riley said. “She was excited to know I was finally dating someone.”
“Then come here,” he said, pulling her chair closer, putting his hands on her waist. “Date me a little.” He leaned toward her for a kiss and she obliged. “She’s not quite ready,” he said very quietly. “She’s going to need a little more time. And apparently I’m going to have to prove myself in athletics, electronics and a few other things.”
“I’ve never felt a stronger urge to spank my daughter.”
“I think you better talk to her instead. See what’s going on. But for now, kiss me better.”
“Are you wounded?”
“Nah, not too bad. I’m having a talk with myself right now. Families are complicated and I’m going to be patient. You know why? I want us to work, that’s why. I think it’s going to be okay but it’s Christmas, and Christmas has a way of stirring things up, so I’m taking my lead from you. I want to be together as much as you want to be—you’re going to have to drive this train. Can you do that, Riley?”
“Are you kidding? It’s one of my most serious flaws—I like being in charge.” She wiggled away from him and poured two cups of coffee and dished up two slices of cheesecake. Then she sat back down, closer to him than necessary. She put a little cheesecake on her fork and fed it to him. “The only part of this dinner I made was the coffee.”
“Modern women turn me on,” he said. “I have a feeling this first Christmas of ours isn’t going to include our families, but that’s okay. We’re still new, there’s lots of time.” He fed her a bite from his plate. “So my busy season is here,” Logan said. “And not because I’ll be partying. More burglaries, domestics, drunk driving—it all adds up to overtime. But maybe we can sneak in our own little Christmas. I want you to think about it, tell me when you have time, help me decide what kind of day or evening you’d like.”
“I’m sorry about Maddie. She’s really not like that. She’s one of the most accepting, generous, warmhearted people I know. And I don’t think she got it from me.”
“Who’d she get it from, then?” he asked.
“My mom I think. My mom is like that.”
“Can I help with the cleanup?” he asked, feeding her another bite.
“No, no. Cleanup is my specialty. My profession.”
They finished dessert and coffee, then Riley treated Logan to a very nice, deep, meaningful kiss and some heartfelt caressing by the front door. Riley was starting to ask herself why she’d avoided this kind of contact for so long. No one had interested her, true. But why had no one interested her? Was it because after Jock she fasted?
She cleaned up the kitchen very slowly and quietly. She had a dishwasher but sometimes she liked washing and drying the dishes by hand. When she was finished and the kitchen was perfect and shining, she went to Maddie’s room. She knocked before going in.
Maddie was in her pajamas—ballerina and heart pajamas, perfect for a five-year-old girl, but her girl had long blond hair, blue eyes and was five foot eight.
“You want to tell me what that was about?” Riley asked.
“What?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know, Maddie. I’ve never seen you act like that. Didn’t you like him?” She came into her daughter’s room and sat on the bed.
“Yeah, I liked him. He seemed nice. He’s even kind of hot. What kind of cop is he?”
“That’s kind of up in the air, I think. His business card says property crimes but he says he’s doing some special project at the moment. Now, why were you going on and on about your dad? That’s not really true, all that stuff you said.”
“Sure it is. I talk to him every day, he’s never missed a game or meet, he always comes by on special occasions even if we’re at Gramma’s, he takes me to my other gramma’s, though not as much, and he’s around you a lot because of me. He’s nice and he’s handsome, too.”
“But, Maddie, your dad and I couldn’t work things out—I explained all that.”
“Not really. He did a better job of explaining than you ever did. And when I told him you were dating some guy, it made him so sad.” She shrugged. “I think he’s lonely. And he still loves you.”
“Maddie, I don’t think he ever loved me. And Lord knows he wasn’t ready to be a father.”
“Well, no kidding! That would be like me being a mother! But he’s older now.”
“Maddie, you have to be realistic. Your dad has been married. He loves you very much but he doesn’t have any feelings for me.”
“I know. He’s pretty embarrassed about that marriage. He didn’t know what he was thinking. He said he should’ve known better. But he said he’s always loved you and always will.”
“Because I’m your mother,” Riley said. “That’s all it is.”
“No, Mama, that’s not all. But it’s okay. Logan is nice. And he’s nice to you. That’s what matters, right?”
“Right. Are you going to be nicer the next time he’s around?”
She nodded, but bit her lower lip. “You know, you never went out on a date. I thought maybe you and Daddy still might have a thing for each other.”
“Listen, I had a couple of dates. A few, actually. I never said anything.”
“You probably said you had meetings...”
“Probably. But I was asked out. I met a couple of guys for coffee, went to a couple of happy hours, went out to dinner a couple of times, but it just wasn’t the right time, I guess. I was bored. I figured if it was right I’d get a little excited.”
“Does Logan get you excited?” she asked.
“I don’t know. But he makes me laugh. I’m comfortable with him. I feel good about myself when we’re together and it seems like we have a lot to talk about. But, Maddie, it’s not serious. It’s friendly. It could get serious, but I’ve only known him a few weeks. Relationships take time. And I’m in no rush. Now, is there anything else you need to know?”
“One thing. I hope you’ll tell me the truth...”
“Maddie, I always tell you the truth!”
“Okay. Did you ever love Daddy? I mean, really?”
It was the oddest thing—Riley felt tears in her eyes. She blinked a little wildly, willing them away. She cleared her throat. She wiped her palms on her slacks. “Yes,” she finally said, her voice soft. “Yes, I did.”
“Really?” she asked.
“Painfully so,” Riley said.
* * *
Emma steadfastly refused to announce to Adam’s family that they were officially seeing each other, though everyone but Riley knew. “Let’s not push our luck,” she said. She didn’t want any trouble or friction from Riley and mostly she didn’t want a brother and sister at odds over her during Christmas. “Riley has to be the one to invite me back into her life, even as just an acquaintance. We’ll never be good friends, I get that, but I don’t want to push my way into your family before she’s ready.”
“You know I don’t give a damn what Riley thinks about this,” Adam said.
“That’s exactly what worries me.”
“Why are you so intent on having it the hard way?”
“Is that what you think? Oh, you’re wrong. I want it the peaceful way. Especially now—my first Chri
stmas home, with a nice place to live, a decent job, a great fella. I’m going to invite your mom over to see my little place and host her for a couple of hours. I’m going to spend some time with Lyle and Ethan, bring them a nice bottle of wine and some Brie and caviar, wriggle my way into Ethan’s good graces. I’m spending an evening with Penny and her girlfriends—they have a little Christmas party every year and I’m now officially part of the club.”
“And me?” he asked.
“I’m sure we’ll have lots of quality time together.”
“How about Christmas Eve?” he asked.
“I’ll wait up,” she said.
She wanted to enjoy the days leading up to Christmas. She didn’t have much to spend on her few friends and she enjoyed it more that way. She found a lovely pashmina shawl for Penny, a couple of small but pretty tree decorations for the other ladies, and for Lyle and Ethan, a Christmas serving platter. For June, a decorative Christmas table runner that was lovely and on sale. For Adam, a soft, cuddly navy blue sweater with a white button-down shirt, a pair of delicious slippers because she had noticed he didn’t have any and a book, a Nelson DeMille novel. She had studied his bookcase—he loved that particular author and although he had an e-reader, he liked to read paper.
She bought herself a few modest decorations for her little house. Adam still came to her place, though she knew he really liked his house and was so happy when she was there with him. “It’s going to be a long time, Adam, before I’m good for more than this, than what we have right now. I’m working through everything but it’s slow. Everything that came before us is weighty.”
“Is Lucinda helping?” he asked.
“I think so, but I’m not seeing her again until the New Year. I’m feeling almost secure,” she said. “I’m afraid to blink.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
The holiday decorations in the homes they cleaned were a beautiful pain in the ass—difficult to clean and tidy around. Still, Emma enjoyed them as never before. It was entertaining to see what each family had done—the Douglases with the three spoiled boys had enough presents under the tree to take care of all the children in an orphanage. The Nesbitts had grown children and grandchildren, and they kept the number of gifts reasonable, yet decorated lavishly, many of the things meant to be fun for the children—advent calendar, talking Rudolph, nutcracker soldier. The Parkers had no presents under the tree—they’d be spending Christmas in Maui.
She was looking forward to seeing what the Christensen family had done. The last time she was there nothing had been done to decorate and she feared nothing would be done. But voilà! Just in time for Christmas the decorations had appeared and they blew her mind—it was a decorator’s dream. She knew the cost of many of the ornaments and tabletop decorations. A nativity painted in gold and draped in Swarovski from Bergdorf’s, crystal reindeer from Tiffany’s, a stunning wreath—surely those weren’t real diamonds, but it was copied from the real one created by Pasi Jokinen-Carter. Their tree and staircase garland were decorated by a professional, she could tell. The few packages under the tree were wrapped in expensive paper that matched some of the glass balls; fancy ribbon was coordinated with the home furnishing colors. There were silver candelabra with red candles, fresh Christmas flowers in the dining room and foyer, an expensive tapestry hung on the staircase landing and a garland to end all garlands, fresh and adorned with balls and ribbons that matched the tree.
Dellie and Shawna gasped when they saw the house.
“Stay away from the tree and garland,” Emma told the girls. “Most of those ornaments came from jewelers, not Target.”
Both of them backed up fearfully. “How do you know that?” Shawna asked in a whisper.
“This isn’t my first rodeo,” was all Emma said. “In fact...” She got out her cell phone. She called Makenna. “We’re at the Christensen house and you might want to check this out. The Christmas decorations are worth more than the van. No one wants to dust them. We’ll wait for you.”
They started upstairs. As usual, nothing was disturbed except for a damp towel in the hamper, which Emma scooped up and put in the laundry bag for pickup. The laundry and dry cleaning was picked up and delivered twice a week, expertly timed for the moment the Kerrigan cleaners were finished cleaning.
Bethany had left her diary open on the table next to her bed, the bed she meticulously fixed in the morning even though it was cleaning day, clean sheet day. There was only one sentence written on the page and Emma couldn’t stop herself. After all those years of not noticing things, now she was a damn runaway train!
I just wish there was someone to talk to.
It clutched at Emma’s heart and before she could reason with herself, she picked up the pen and wrote a note. Talk to me. She wrote her cell number. Then her cheeks flamed so red she thought she might pass out. This house, this family was going to kill her and she was going to end up getting fired over it. She quickly passed the vacuum, leaving perfect tracks. I am totally fired, she thought.
She wasn’t even done with the vacuum when Makenna was at the house and with her, Nick. They took one look at the decorations and called Emma down.
“Good call,” Makenna said. “How’d you know?”
Makenna didn’t know about her past? Riley hadn’t told her closest coworkers their complicated history, Emma’s spectacular and horrifying past? She was stunned. “I...ah...this isn’t my first fancy house. Believe me, you don’t want to break anything at Christmastime around here.”
“Doesn’t it just give you that warm, fuzzy holiday feeling?” Makenna said. “Stay away from all the ornamentation. I’ll take care of this.”
Emma wondered if there was any way to sneak upstairs to Bethany’s room and remove her note from the diary. But of course it was written in pen. The only option was to tear out that page, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
Makenna and Nick seemed to be outside conferring, talking on their phones for a long time. They sat in the company car for a while, talking. And then without saying another word, they were gone. Before leaving the house, Emma called Makenna. “What’s the verdict on this house and the ornaments?”
“Riley will be discussing it with Mrs. Christensen. Clean around them the best you can. Riley agrees we’ll need a release of liability on the care and cleaning of apparently priceless knickknacks. Leave everything.”
“Who are these people?” Emma asked.
Makenna sighed. “Olaf Christensen owns an import-export business and his wife is the CFO. They’re very successful, very driven, both perfectionists.”
“Import-export,” Emma said. “Well, that explains some of these precious decorations. They’re in the buying-and-selling business. We already dusted around,” Emma said. Then to her partners she said, “We’re on the road again, girls.”
The next house was messy and dirty, which put them a bit behind schedule, but this was the way things went during the holidays, what with all the partying and clutter. The last house of the day was the Andrewses and they were a bit late. Mrs. Andrews had had her arm in a sling last week but this week no one answered the door.
“Going to fight the damn cat hair,” Shawna said. “I hate cat hair.”
There was a sudden but definite commotion inside, the sound of a man shouting and a woman’s voice. Emma rang the doorbell again and a third time.
“This ain’t no good, trust me,” Shawna said. “Time to go make another call to Makenna.”
“Wait,” Emma said. She leaned her ear up to the door. She couldn’t hear what he was saying but he was barking, yelling, and she was wheedling, maybe whimpering. “I’m worried about her,” Emma said. “I can’t leave her in there with him.”
“We call Nick now,” Dellie said.
“Open it,” Emma commanded.
“Now, that’s something we don’
t wanna do,” Dellie said.
Emma leaned her ear against the door again and suddenly it popped open and she fell inside, right onto a skinny, smelly, worked-up man. He growled and pushed her off him with surprising strength and stood up. He muttered something then walked briskly to the car that sat in the drive.
Dellie and Shawna lifted Emma to her feet.
“See what I’m talking about?” Dellie said. “We don’t need any part of that!”
Emma was still frowning after the man. He was balding, short and ugly. His ears were big, he had a beak for a nose and she was sure she saw a sizeable wart on it. He cast a mean look over his shoulder; the three of them stood on the front walk with their supplies—dusters on extenders, a big plastic carrier with all their chemicals, vacuum, bag of rags, knee pads and gloves.
He spit on the ground, got in his Mercedes and drove away.
“We’re not cleaning this one today,” Shawna said. “She’ll pay her bill, don’t worry about that.”
But Emma walked into the house. She found Mrs. Andrews on the floor in a crumpled heap, crying. She still had her sling, all askew, and she held her arm as if it hurt. There was a fresh slap mark on her cheek and her neck was very red, like he’d been choking her.
Dellie and Shawna followed Emma slowly. Cautiously. Working together, they lifted Mrs. Andrews to the couch. “Someone get Mrs. Andrews some ice. I’ll just be a minute,” Emma said.
“What are you going to do?” Shawna asked.
“Today I’m working on getting fired, it seems,” she said. She walked to the front door and standing just outside she called the police.
Chapter Fifteen
Riley’s heart was heavy. Every time she thought about her conversation with Maddie she felt both confusion and regret. Confusion because she couldn’t exactly remember her explanations about herself and Jock the way Maddie remembered and wondered if she’d fed her daughter a series of excuses. And regret because now that she looked back on it, she had probably glossed over things so it wouldn’t sound like what it was. After about sixteen years even she didn’t remember it as accurately as she should because she’d been trying to blot out some truths—that she’d fallen for her best friend’s boyfriend, that she’d loved him, slept with him, expected him to stand by her from that moment, but instead she lost them both.