She's Not There

by Joy Fielding

  “You can just imagine how much I’m looking forward to that,” Becky said, following Steve’s lead. She knew what was at stake, that the men her husband was dealing with weren’t the type to look kindly on a sudden change of heart. One man was already here in Rosarito, having flown in by private plane earlier in the day, and was at this very minute waiting patiently in the lobby with the special carrying case he’d brought in which to hide Samantha.

  You don’t piss these people off, Steve had warned her.

  Still, she wasn’t sure she could go through with it. No matter how hard she tried to rationalize what they were about to do, no matter how many times she told herself she had no choice, that Steve’s reckless gambling had put both their lives in jeopardy, no matter how many times she told herself that Caroline would survive the loss of her child—she still had one healthy little girl; she could always get pregnant again; Samantha was going to a loving home; Caroline’s perfect, fairy-tale existence could use a cold shower of reality—she didn’t know whether she was capable of inflicting such pain on a woman with whom she’d once been close.

  Still, what choice did she have?

  Steve glared at his wife, silently urging her to keep it simple. It was important that they start slow and build. Their spat had to sound like just another one of their endless arguments. Which should be easy. It seemed that all they did anymore was fight. “Let’s not start.”

  “Stop looking at your watch,” Hunter told Caroline. He checked his own watch, feeling a stirring in his groin at the thought of his upcoming tryst with Rain. It was accompanied almost immediately by an unwelcome stab of guilt. Not at the affair itself. He’d been having casual, meaningless flings for years. This one was no different except for the added frisson that it was taking place right under his wife’s nose. But this was his anniversary, for heaven’s sake. Surely he owed it to Caroline not to betray her tonight, of all nights. Still, she’d thought little of almost canceling the dinner and had spent most of the evening worrying about the kids. They were her first priority, not him.

  “You know what my darling mother-in-law said to me last Thanksgiving?” Becky asked, warming to the charade. At least she got to vent. “She’d just been to a funeral and I made the mistake of asking how it had gone, and she said, and this is a direct quote: ‘It was a lovely affair. Her daughter selected a beautiful coffin. Much nicer than the one you had for your mother.’ ”

  Steve bristled, despite the charade. Did she really have to bring that up again? “I assure you,” he protested, “she said no such thing.”

  “That’s exactly what she said.”

  “You’re exaggerating. As usual.”

  “And you’re defending her. As usual.”

  “So, what are we all thankful for?” Peggy interrupted, trying to keep their argument from mushrooming out of control. It was her best friend’s anniversary. Could Steve and Becky not manage even one evening without a fight? “Come on. Three things, not including health, family, or friends. We’ll just assume you’re thankful for those.”

  “Never assume,” said Becky. Oh, God. Can I really go through with this?

  “Oh, this is fun.” Rain clapped her hands. “Can I start?”

  Peggy indicated the floor was hers, suddenly grateful for Rain’s presence. A normally positive person who made a concerted effort to find something admirable in everyone, Peggy had been struggling all week with her feelings for Rain, feelings that veered from mild amusement to strained impatience to active dislike. The truth was that she just didn’t trust her. There was something sneaky about her, the way her compliments always carried the sting of a slap. “Kidding on the square,” her mother used to call it. Still, it was nice to know you could count on Rain for something. In this case, that something was glomming onto anything that provided her with the opportunity to talk about herself.

  “Well, first, obviously, I’m thankful we’ll be spending Thanksgiving in New York and not at some horrid family function, no offense intended. Second, I’m thankful for the new necklace Jerrod bought me. And third, I’m thankful gray hair doesn’t run in my family. Your turn.” She smiled at Caroline.

  “I’m thankful for this past week,” Caroline said. “I’m thankful to be celebrating ten years of relative wedded bliss.”

  “What do you mean, relative?” Hunter asked. What kind of a dig was that?

  “I’ll drink to relative,” Jerrod said, raising his glass in a toast, and thinking it would be a miracle if he and Rain made it to their tenth anniversary. He suspected she was already getting restless. Hence, Thanksgiving in New York. Hence, the expensive diamond sparkler around her neck.

  “Go on,” Peggy said. “One more thing you’re thankful for.”

  “I’m thankful for the ocean.”

  “Seriously?” Rain asked.

  My sentiments exactly, Steve thought. The ocean? That’s exactly the sort of sappy thing Dad would have come up with. And what a loser he was. “I’m thankful the San Diego real estate market is so strong.” Not fucking strong enough, mind you. Never strong enough. “I’m thankful I was able to persuade Hunter to let us join you here in beautiful Rosarito to help you celebrate.” I can’t wait to get the hell out of here. “I’m especially thankful that my mother is such a great cook.” He narrowed his eyes across the table at Becky. The ball’s in your court, his eyes said.

  “You’re so full of shit,” Becky said obligingly.

  “Is our mother not a great cook?”

  “Our mother is indeed a great cook,” Caroline said. “And you are also full of shit.”

  Everybody laughed.

  And you are so fucking smug, Steve thought. Let’s see how smug you are later on tonight.

  Becky noted the anger that flashed through Steve’s hazel eyes, like a sudden bolt of lightning. He’d always been scornful of his older sister, minimizing her accomplishments and belittling her comfortable lifestyle, but it was only lately that Becky had come to realize his enmity went far deeper than that.

  He’d always been their mother’s favorite, told his entire life that he was the special one, that all he had to do was smile that killer smile and the world was his for the taking. Except it hadn’t quite worked out that way. His charm had carried him only so far before people started expecting more. They wanted a glimpse behind the killer smile and were inevitably disappointed to find there wasn’t much there. He’d failed at everything he tried, probably because he never tried very hard. In fact, in his most recent incarnation as a real estate agent, when times were so good that all you had to do was show up in order to collect a six-figure commission, he couldn’t be bothered doing even that. Soon sellers took their business to other agents; buyers went elsewhere. Commissions dwindled. What little money he made, he gambled away. His mother had always been there to bail him out, but even she couldn’t help him this time. They were in debt up to their eyeballs. They owed money to everyone, people who would gladly wipe that killer smile right off his face.

  And here was Caroline, his beautiful, boring sister, a high school math teacher, for God’s sake, quietly going about her business, and she seemed to have all the answers. How the hell had that happened?

  Becky rubbed her forehead. She was getting a headache. She’d had a lot of them lately. Probably the stress of a bad marriage combined with the more recent stress of what she was about to do. Could she really follow through with their plan? Could she really be part of something so horribly evil?

  “Your turn, Becky,” Rain said.

  “I’m sorry, everyone. I’ve had this terrible headache all afternoon, and it seems to be getting worse.” Tears filled Becky’s eyes, and she made no move to hide them or brush them aside. She rose to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me,” she said, pushing back her chair and getting to her feet.

  “Oh, sit down,” Steve said. “You’re fine. Don’t be such a prima donna.”

  “Fuck you.” Becky turned and stomped away.

  Well played, Becky, Steve thought, wa
tching her leave. He needn’t have worried. Maybe they weren’t so ill matched after all.

  By the time she reached the lobby, Becky’s eyes were dry. She stationed herself behind a large floral arrangement that afforded her a sweeping view of the area. Now all she had to do was wait.

  “Shouldn’t you go after her?” Fletcher asked Steve.

  “What—you think I’m as crazy as she is?”

  “I should go check on the kids,” Caroline said.

  Hunter stood to kiss her cheek. “Hurry back.”

  “Oh. So sweet,” Rain said. Gag me with a spoon, she thought.

  Caroline was more than happy to get away. Her anniversary celebration was proving something less than celebratory. Rain was getting on her nerves and Hunter seemed distracted. Plus she was worried not only about the girls but about her brother and Becky as well. That they thought nothing of fighting in public was obviously not a good sign. She doubted their marriage would survive the year.

  She proceeded to the elevators, unaware that Becky was watching from behind one of several huge arrangements of colorful fresh flowers. She got off the elevator at the sixth floor and hurried down the hall, hearing her children’s imaginary cries leaking through the walls. But when she opened the door to her suite, she heard only the reassuring hum of silence. A quick check proved the girls were sleeping soundly in their beds. Hunter was right, she thought. I’ve been silly to worry.

  “You really think I should go after her?” Steve asked soon after his sister had left. He couldn’t afford to leave the table too early. Nor could he afford to wait too long. The timing was critical if they were going to pull this off.

  “I’d go, if I were you,” Fletcher said.

  “Remind her we’re supposed to be celebrating,” Peggy added.

  “Just say you’re sorry and get it over with,” Jerrod advised. “Remember—happy wife, happy life.”

  “Fine.” Steve pushed back his chair and stood up. “I’m doing this for you guys.” He walked into the lobby, nodding first toward Becky, then toward a balding man in casual attire who was sitting unobtrusively in a large wicker chair. The man was perusing a brochure, a large carry-on bag at his feet.

  What the hell is taking Caroline so long? Becky wondered as time dragged on and Caroline still hadn’t returned. All she had to do was check on the girls and leave. Unless one of the girls had awakened, and then all bets were off. What would they do then?

  What the hell is she doing up there? Steve was also thinking, pretending to use the house phone while keeping an eye on the bank of elevators nearby. He could feel the balding man’s eyes burning a bullet-sized hole in the back of his beige linen shirt. If she took too long, Hunter was liable to get anxious and go up there himself. And then where would that leave them?

  Which was when the elevator doors opened and Caroline emerged. She looked straight ahead as she cut across the lobby to the restaurant. As soon as she was out of sight, Steve headed for the elevator, Becky and the balding man following casually after him. Becky got into the first elevator, Steve and the balding man in the one beside it. They proceeded individually down the sixth-floor corridor, Becky the first one to arrive at the suite. She pulled out the keycard she’d lifted from Caroline’s purse earlier in the week and unlocked the door.

  It was dark in the living room and Becky almost tripped over the coffee table. “Shit,” she muttered.

  “Ssh,” Steve warned, bringing his fingers to his lips for emphasis.

  Ssh yourself, Becky thought, as she followed her husband into the girls’ bedroom. The man with the carry-on bag waited by the bedroom door.

  Becky moved quickly to the crib, relieved to note that Michelle was all but buried underneath her bedsheets, and that Samantha was sleeping peacefully on her back. She reached in and gingerly scooped the toddler into her arms, cradling her head beneath her chin. Samantha made a gurgling noise but didn’t wake up. She was so soft, so sweet, Becky thought, swaying back toward the crib. It wasn’t too late. She could still put the child back and no one would be the wiser.

  It was at that moment she heard her husband’s hoarse whisper.

  “Come to your Uncle Stevie,” he said, prying Samantha out of his wife’s arms and carrying her quickly to the man waiting by the bedroom door. He lowered the toddler into the carry-on bag and watched as the man snapped the bag shut and hurried down the hall.

  The whole enterprise took less than five minutes.

  “Oh, God,” Becky whispered. “What have we done?”

  “Shut up,” Steve told her. “It’s over.”

  They waited a few more minutes, until they were certain the man had departed the premises, and then they left the suite, taking separate elevators down to the lobby and then returning to their room in the other wing.

  “What do we do now?” Becky asked, lowering herself to her bed, her head pounding.

  Steve checked his watch. Soon it would be Hunter’s turn to check on the kids. Then all hell would break loose.

  —

  “I should go check on the kids before dessert gets here,” Hunter was saying.

  “And I need a sweater,” Rain announced, patting her chest. “The girls are getting chilly.”

  Caroline watched her husband and Rain go their separate ways at the entrance to the restaurant.

  Except, of course, they didn’t go their separate ways at all. Hunter doubled back, meeting Rain at the elevators that serviced her wing of the hotel. He’d look in on the kids later, assuming he had time. If not, so be it. They’d been checking them every half hour all night. And for what? Nothing was going to happen to them. He’d already left Samantha alone this afternoon for twenty minutes while she was napping and she’d been just fine. Not that he’d told Caroline about it. How could he, after all, when he’d been with Rain? Luckily, he’d had time to take a shower before she came back. Besides, she was being unreasonable and overprotective. If she wasn’t careful, she’d turn into her mother. Which wasn’t fair, he knew, even as he was thinking it. Caroline was absolutely nothing like her mother. But it made him feel better, a little less guilty, to think ill of her, to pretend that his betrayal was at least partly her fault.

  “Come here, you,” Rain said as the elevator doors closed. Immediately her hands were at the zipper of his pants.

  “Whoa,” Hunter cautioned, grateful there were no cameras in the elevators. Or anywhere in the hotel, for that matter, which made sneaking around that much easier. “We have to be careful. What if we run into Steve or Becky?” They’d thrown a definite monkey wrench into his plans with their abrupt and unscheduled departure.

  “Fuck them,” Rain said with a laugh. “We’ll think of something. I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you all night. I’m not waiting any longer.”

  Hunter almost laughed at the urgency in her voice, and was ashamed to find himself so excited.

  She already had his jacket halfway off by the time they reached her room. “You are so damn sexy,” she told him, tugging at his pants and falling to her knees.

  He wished she’d shut up. That was her problem, he was thinking as she guided him toward her mouth. She talked too damn much.

  “Come to Mama,” she said.

  And then mercifully, she was silent.

  —

  “I don’t get it,” Steve said, looking from his watch to the clock beside their bed. “Hunter should have discovered Samantha missing by now.”

  “Maybe he has.”

  “No. We’d have heard something. I’m going back down.”

  “What? No.”

  “I have to. It’ll look weird if I don’t. Are you coming?”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Fine. I’ll tell them I tried to get you to come back but you refused to listen to reason.”

  “You really are a piece of shit.”

  “And you’re the whipped cream on top.” He opened the door.

  And saw Hunter hurrying down the corridor.

  “Holy crap.”<
br />
  “What?”

  “I’m pretty sure I just saw Hunter.”

  “What? That’s impossible. What would he be doing over here?”

  “I’m wondering the same thing.”

  “You don’t think…”

  “I think we just bought ourselves another thirty minutes.”

  —

  “Look who I found in the lobby,” Rain said, gathering her newly acquired shawl around her as she and Steve rejoined the others.

  “I was about to send out a search party,” Jerrod said.

  “I forgot I’d already packed the damn thing. Had to unpack my whole suitcase to find it.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire, thought Steve. He smiled at Hunter.

  What the hell is he smiling about? Hunter wondered.

  “Serves you right for being so organized,” said Peggy. “I haven’t even started packing.”

  “I take it you couldn’t convince Becky to come back,” Caroline said to her brother.

  Steve shrugged as he pulled out his chair and sat down. “Women,” he said to the men present. “Can’t live with ’em, can’t shoot ’em.”

  “Nice talk,” said Caroline.

  The waiters returned and began preparing the crêpes.

  “Kids okay?” Steve asked Hunter.

  “Kids are fine,” Hunter said.

  Okay, so maybe it hadn’t happened exactly that way, Caroline thought, watching the movie play out in her head again. Maybe she would never know the precise sequence of events of that night or the inflection of each spoken word. Maybe she’d never be privy to the actual thoughts of everyone involved, or the convoluted feelings behind those thoughts. But it didn’t matter. She knew enough.

  “Are you all right?” Samantha asked her.

  Caroline nodded, focusing on the beautiful young girl kneeling in front of her.

  “Are you sure?”

  Caroline looked around the now empty living room, trying to remember when everybody had left. The dishes, along with the remains of the Chinese food and the empty beer bottles, had been cleared away, although an assortment of smells remained. “What time is it?”