by Sam Logue
Katie looked to Julian, who nodded at his mother. Elvina reached out to take Molly, but Katie pulled Molly closer to her chest. Why was she so reluctant to let her hold Molly?
“Let her, Katie. It’s all right,” Julian said.
A nurse entered the room to take Molly back to the nursery. Katie handed her to the nurse right away. Elvina frowned and sat down. Ben held her hand. Julian and Katie watched the nurse leave with Molly.
“Isn’t our girl beautiful?” Katie said.
“Just like you,” Julian said. He whispered into Katie’s ear and Victoria didn’t catch what he said.
“I know you’ll make a terrific dad,” Katie said after a moment.
“You really think so?”
“I know so.”
****
When Molly had been home for a while, she began sleeping in the nursery instead of in the bassinet in Katie and Julian’s room. Julian had attached a mobile to the ceiling above Molly’s crib, and she would gaze up at the moving geometric shapes and animal figurines and gurgle with pleasure. He was in an accelerated program and was almost done with law school by the time she was born, and he acted like an overly doting father, sterilizing her glass baby bottles and carefully putting her pacifier between her lips, as though he were afraid she might break if he pushed too hard.
At night they would hear Molly’s colicky outbursts in the nursery through the baby monitor, and they took turns rising to check on her. Very early one morning, she giggled through the baby monitor. It was Julian’s turn to get up and go check on her, but when Katie poked him, he grumbled and rolled over to the other side of the bed.
“Can you go for me this time, please? Your dad’s picking me up for work in less than an hour,” Julian said.
Katie felt bad for the guy. School, work and the new baby were taking their toll on Julian. Every day he appeared more tired. Katie got up, grabbed her terrycloth robe from the hook at the back of the bedroom door and walked down the hallway to Molly’s nursery. She tripped on Molly’s teddy bears and other toys on the floor and gasped.
Luna moths fluttered in a circle high above Molly’s crib. They were pale, as subtle as the moon in the early evening sky. Katie leaned over the crib and pointed up at the slow-moving beauties glowing in the dark.
“I think those are a gift from your uncle Paul. You never knew him,” she whispered down to Molly.
The moths’ faint glowing turned even more elusive, until they were like small tendrils of clouds that vanished. Katie left and woke up grouchy Julian, who of course didn’t believe her story. She wished Molly could already talk so she could tell him what they had seen.
“You need to stop making things up,” Julian said to Katie.
“The moths were real. Molly saw them too.”
“Just stop, okay?” He shook his head. “I’m going back to sleep. I only have a few minutes before I have to get ready for work. Making things up isn’t healthy for Molly or for you.” After a pause he said, “She and I might have to go away for a while if you keep this up.”
Julian spoke as if he wouldn’t do that but just the idea was enough to wound Katie. The only place he could really take Molly would be his parents’ house. Katie’s hands made fists at the thought of Elvina being near her daughter.
“You wouldn’t take her.”
“I might if you don’t stop.”
That night, Katie put the stopper in the drain and ran Molly’s bath, but she let Julian do the rest of the work. He unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves, turned off the faucet and put the infant seat in the warm water. He slowly took Molly from Katie’s lap, put her on the seat and rubbed her plump, soapy feet. Molly’s toenails were as delicate as gold leaf. She giggled when he tapped her small jutting belly button.
“How’s that postpartum stuff going?” Julian asked Katie. “The side effects of it, I mean.”
“I’m not feeling depressed.”
“That’s good news.”
“It has nothing to do with what happened with the moths. I didn’t make that up.” Katie stroked the damp strands of Molly’s hair. “I wish you could talk,” she said to her.
“That wasn’t what I was insinuating,” Julian said. He removed Molly from the infant seat and handed her back to Katie.
Katie dried Molly with a towel that was as soft as a fluffy baby bird.
The bathroom curtains were open, and Julian glanced out the window. “The sun’s going down. Sorry about before. I’m so nervous and I don’t know why. Do you ever get worried we won’t be able to manage everything?”
“I’m sure we’ll do okay.” Katie started to touch his back.
A piercing sound came from behind where they’d knelt by the tub, followed by a rush of cool air. Katie looked up and the window was open, where it had been closed before. “Is there anyone in the house other than Molly and us?” she asked Julian.
“No. Why?” He turned and stared at the open window with her. “I could have sworn it was locked from the inside.” Julian set his hands on his knees and got up to check.
“Or someone in this room opened it,” Katie said.
“Someone in this room? Something is more like it.” The window started to slam down right in front of them. Julian quickly pulled his hands back from the sill. “Damn, that could’ve broken my fingers.”
Katie hugged Molly to her. Julian locked the window, double-checking that it was secure. Katie handed Molly to him and drained the bath. She shut off the light and followed them out of the bathroom and into the hall. Molly cried, and Julian moved her up and down to quiet her while they took her back to the nursery.
If it was Paul, then why was he so angry with Julian?
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nearly four years later, Julian became the youngest partner at the small law firm he worked for on Main Street. He presented Katie with an engagement ring to celebrate.
“We can finally afford to get married,” he said. And she accepted the ring without hesitation.
Katie tried not to think of Paul on the bright afternoon she wore a simple lace dress and Julian and she had a wedding ceremony in his parents’ rock garden. Katie held a small bouquet of Paul’s roses. Molly, a precocious, active four-year-old, was the flower girl.
Nat was the photographer. Although things hadn’t been easy for Nat and he had been unable to really settle into a new life without knowing what had happened to his twin, he had married Rachel after college and found work as a soccer coach. They’d separated a month before Katie’s wedding, when Rachel had taken up with another man and had left their daughter, Abigail, to live with Nat on Blackthorn.
The house Julian bought with Katie was a storybook cottage with pale blue shutters. The modest but warm home bordered the black forest, and its windows overlooked the twisted tree beasts. Katie hung quartz near all the window shades and it caught daylight and reflected mischievously off the corners of the rooms. It reminded her of the reflections in her parents’ house.
“I have a surprise for you,” Julian said to Katie late one night shortly after they moved in.
The next morning a small used piano was delivered by truck to their front door. Katie found she still remembered how to play when she sat on the bench and her fingers touched the keys.
Katie began taking long walks early in the morning before she went to work with Alex, if her mother could come to the house to help Molly get ready for her playgroup. Putting Molly in a playgroup a few days a week allowed Katie to work longer hours.
Stepping over fallen acorns one morning, Katie came upon the river where Julian sometimes went fishing. She stood under the shelter of an enormous oak tree and watched a cardinal eat some red berries in a bramble thicket.
Soil with sand and slippery gold-green leaves snaking along the riverbank squished and twigs crunched under her sneakers. The river moved briskly and was foamy on top, but smooth stones were visible on its bed. She walked upstream to a point where the river widened and the water was calmer. Katie found
a pebble and tossed it in. It puckered the water’s surface.
Katie breathed in the fresh smell of the water. Wind rustled the leaves on the willow trees close to the river’s edge. Branches sent vibrations across the water, quivering the surface. She smelled fruit – a freshly halved clementine. An unusual icy mist in the air touched the bare places on her skin. It was much too warm outside for such a chilly breeze. She rubbed her muddy hands on her pants.
“Katie,” a voice from back downriver called out.
She knew Paul’s voice, the same as she knew the oak tree she had just stood under felt pain when you carved your initials into its bark, or love when two people stood under it and kissed. She ran and followed Paul’s soft voice, still small like a child’s and buzzing. As she got closer, she felt his presence, the earlier chill again, a coolness like mint, on her flesh.
The sun was a crown of auroral light arcing over the houses on the street. Tall beach grass bent and shook violently in the wind, catching Paul’s voice and tossing it around. According to Katie’s ear, he wasn’t far off, but when she reached the source of his voice, no one stood where he should have been.
****
Sam sat at the head of the sleek, dark-wood table in the cosy dining room. Victoria had set out cloth dinner napkins encircled with smooth wooden rings and warm, freshly baked dinner rolls in a basket. She brought out pot roast, a bowl of mashed potatoes and a platter of steamed white asparagus, and set it all on the lazy Susan at the centre of the table.
Ben Bloomfield had trouble cutting his asparagus, and his wife, Elvina, tore apart her pot roast. Sam tapped the side of his wine glass with his fork, getting the table’s attention. Victoria hadn’t expected him to make a speech. They all stopped chewing and peered up at him.
“Again, I want to say how delighted we are to finally have you all in our home,” he said.
“Thank you,” Ben and Elvina replied at the same time, rather quietly.
“We’re very happy to be here, Mr Gold,” Julian said.
“Please, call me Sam.”
Katie put down her fork. The sound of the metal clinking against her china plate startled Victoria.
An asparagus tip was sticking out of Sam’s full lips. Victoria had forgotten just how sexy his mouth was. He used his tongue to move it back into his mouth and she looked the other way. Elvina cut her asparagus with a calm efficiency and arranged it neatly on her plate. She caught Victoria’s eye, and they both tried to smile at each other but couldn’t entirely manage it. At least Elvina had paid for half the cost of Katie’s bridal shower.
Victoria talked about plants with Elvina because that was a safe, common ground.
“Where do you store your ferns in the winter?” Elvina asked.
“Mainly in the cellar and the garage,” Victoria said. “Does the person who takes care of your plants store them in …” She paused because she remembered Sam was the person who took care of Elvina’s plants.
“Actually, I do everything with the ferns myself,” Elvina said in a friendly way.
Victoria felt guilty she had assumed that just because of Elvina’s social standing she wouldn’t dig her hands into dirt.
Everyone at the Saturday dinner party was achingly polite. Victoria had helped Nat find a babysitter for the night so even he could come to the dinner. Wasn’t anybody going to mention Paul? Should Victoria dare? Katie had had a lengthy chat with her before the Bloomfields arrived to get Victoria to promise she would keep quiet about that for tonight. With Nat already facing a pending split marriage, Victoria didn’t want to cause a conflict between Katie and Julian. And what did she want to do about her own marriage? She had fallen into a routine of just getting on with life, and now she couldn’t bear it. She wanted to scream just to release a smidgen of the unbearable tension she held.
“It’s hard for me to talk about him, but I think Paul would have enjoyed being here,” Victoria said to Sam, seated to her left. He refrained from making eye contact with her. His snubbing drove her to ask, “Don’t you think so, Sam?”
Katie met her gaze. “Please don’t do this.”
“Do what? I’m not upsetting anyone, am I?” Victoria said, glancing at Elvina and Ben.
“The meal truly is great,” Elvina said, putting her napkin down on the table.
Victoria glanced at Julian. “You know, Julian doesn’t seem to like to talk about that day at the playground, either.”
Sam touched her wrist. “Take it easy.”
“Why are you doing this to Katie?” Nat said.
“I’m just creating conversation.”
“Maybe you’ve had too much to drink,” Sam said. Victoria was on her third glass of wine.
“It’s okay,” Julian said.
Victoria asked Elvina to pass her the wine bottle and poured. “I guess I’ll be quiet now and drink my wine.”
“I’ll go check on Molly upstairs,” Katie said, drawing away from the table and getting up.
Molly had already eaten her supper. She wasn’t big enough to dine at the table with the adults, and it was pretty late, so she was asleep in Katie’s old bedroom. Victoria and Katie had made sure the bed was bolstered by pillows so Molly wouldn’t tumble out.
Katie turned and said to everyone at the table, “I’m so disappointed that you’re not even trying to get along.” She ran out of the room and slammed the French doors. The glass shook. Victoria rose quickly and the table napkin in her lap fell to the floor.
Julian got up and gathered the napkin for her. He touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
She nodded and Julian went back to his seat.
Victoria heard Katie coming downstairs again and sat back down. She recognised the sounds of her entering the kitchen and raising the lever on an aluminium ice tray to split the cubes. Katie came back to the table, cocktail in hand, and returned to her seat.
“Both of you girls better slow down,” Nat said.
“Don’t worry about me. I can handle it,” Katie said, her elbow slipping off the table when she put her drink down too hard.
“How’s Molly doing?” Victoria asked, knowing how much Katie enjoyed talking about her daughter, and she loved hearing about Molly.
“She’s sleeping nicely,” Katie said.
Victoria hesitated for a moment then smiled. “That’s great.”
Elvina rested her hand on the tablecloth. She had a silver ring with a small black stone on her finger. Katie’s eyes went from Elvina’s hand to her face. “Your ring …”
Elvina fixed her eyes on Katie’s neck. She smiled with no teeth showing and a glint in her long-lashed eyes. “You like my ring? Thank you.”
“It’s interesting looking,” Katie said.
Elvina opened her mouth to say something then crossed her arms and watched Katie with interest.
Victoria turned to Katie. “What is this all about?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Try me.” Victoria smiled at Elvina.
“Someday, but not now,” Katie said.
The tablecloth fluttered under Victoria’s fingers, and the dishes that were at one end of the long table slid down to the other end and almost crashed to the floor.
Ben hurried out of his seat. “What on earth …?” He took Elvina’s hand and escorted her away from the table to the sideboard, where they stood like strangers looking in on a show.
Victoria patted the tablecloth with her fingertips. A feeling that was pleasantly warm, like laundered bed linens drying in the sun, spread through her fingers. She took her hands off, glanced at Katie and wanted to say, “I felt him,” but she couldn’t quite believe that she had, that it was true.
Sam helped Victoria out of the chair and put his arm around her shoulders, leading her to where Ben and Elvina were.
“Don’t be afraid,” Katie said to everyone. “Did you see it happen?” she asked Julian. He was still in his seat and barely managed to nod.
Victoria motioned for Nat to get up, but he
didn’t appear as though he was planning to leave the table anytime soon. “He’s here tonight.” He looked over at Katie.
Sam let go of Victoria and touched the tablecloth. “It can’t be him,” he whispered.
“But it is him,” Katie said.
****
Late in the day on Monday, Victoria came home from the college and Sam was sitting in his rocking chair in the living room, watching TV. He looked up at Victoria when she came into the room. Victoria stared at a photograph on the wall, a framed wedding-day portrait of Sam and her, marked with the date of their marriage. She hadn’t really looked at it in a long while, and every time she came into the room she tended to avoid the portrait. In it she had a wide smile, while Sam’s smile on his very young face made him seem nervous. That day she had felt the youngest she would ever feel. Now she had finished her Ph.D. and made tenure, and no longer had to bake pies to sell, unless her family wanted to enjoy them. A more financially secure life was beginning for Victoria while she felt Sam and she were about to come to an end.
“How long have you been home?” she asked him.
“I got done early. How was your day?”
“Oh, Sam,” she said, and paused. “It’s time I asked you. I think I know what you did, may still be doing, with Mrs Willoughby.”
Sam picked up the remote and turned off the TV. For a long time, he didn’t answer.
“Nat saw you with her at The Sea Dog,” Victoria said. “He was trying to sneak in.”
“When?” Sam got up.
“Quite a long time ago, actually. I’m ashamed I didn’t say anything to you about it before.”
He turned from her and ran his hand through his full, dark hair.
“It is true? Are you still seeing her?” she asked.
“I’m going to tell her I can’t anymore.”
Victoria found it hard to breathe. Hadn’t everything they had been through together meant anything to him? She said in a low voice, “How could you?”
“I can explain—”
Victoria held up her hand, her palm facing him. “Just don’t.” She had lived with his mistake for long enough. She was never more confident than at that moment and it finally gave her the strength she needed. “After Paul, I can’t go on pretending everything’s fine, including this marriage. I told Nat you weren’t perfect, but I need you to move out.”