by Edith DuBois
Gavin thrust a plate a little too hard into the water, and a suds-filled splash splattered against his chest. He cursed under his breath and continued with the dishes, trying to ignore the ostentatious sounds of revelry coming from down the hall. That became increasingly difficult when Penny started shrieking and laughing, “No, Mommy! No! More bath! More bath!” Then there was a large splash. A second later Penny began giggling uncontrollably, and then a lot of clomping and stomping followed.
“What the hell?” Gavin was beginning to wonder how he had married someone so feeble and weak-willed that she couldn’t even control a four-year-old and get that four-year-old a bath without mayhem and pandemonium erupting throughout the entire house—it sounded like Penny had run into Gaston’s bedroom and was wreaking havoc in there—when the sound of glass shattering broke through the rest of the noise.
Gavin tensed, waiting to see if a distressed wail followed.
“Penelope!” Emilie said, her French accent thick. “Pourquoi tu as pussé ton frère? Ce chérubin était un câdeau de Grand-maman!”
Damn. It sounded like Penny had knocked Gaston Henri into that ugly-ass cherub statuette that Emilie’s mother had sent Penny for her birthday last year. Gavin couldn’t truthfully say he was upset about it. That was one heirloom that would never make it into the trophy room.
“Ne cries pas, ma petite. C’était très gros et laid.”
Gavin snorted. That wasn’t what she’d told her mother on the phone, that it was fat and ugly. No, if Gavin remembered correctly, she’d told her mother the statue was delicate and very beautiful, a treasure to behold.
He released a long sigh. It would be all right. Tonight was still on track. Things had been a little set back. Things had gotten a little hectic. But it would all work out. Grayson had called the restaurant, the babysitter would be over in a few minutes, and everything would work out. He had a beautiful family. That was the most important thing. He sucked in a breath, repeated I have a beautiful family a few times in his head, and then let the breath out.
A moment later, Penny’s little feet came pitter-pattering into the kitchen.
“Hey, squirt,” he said as she attached her whole body to his leg. Her hair was still sopping wet, but at least Emilie had managed to get her pajamas on.
“I love youuuuuuuuu,” she squealed, holding him tightly with her cheek pressed fervently against his thigh. “You’re the strongest daddy in the world, and I love youuuuuuuuu.”
“I love you, too, sugar bear.” He dried his hands on a dish towel.
He looked over his shoulder to see Emilie leaning against the door frame, her chest shaking with silent laughter. She’d piled her long dark hair on top of her head, but in the wake of Penny, it had been knocked askew and a couple strands dangled loosely around her face. There were some damp spots on her blouse, too.
She looked sexy as hell.
“Gavin, my love, have you seen our daughter? I seem to have misplaced her.”
“Our daughter? Why no, I have not seen her. What does she look like, maybe I can help you look for her.”
Penny giggled against his leg, holding on so tight that she didn’t fall off when he took a few steps toward Emilie.
“Hmmm, well, she has dark hair. Like mine!” Emilie pointed to her hair. “She has blue eyes. And she’s wearing a purple nightgown with a frog on it. Have you seen anyone that matches that description?”
“I’m so sorry, madam, I have not.”
Emilie sighed heavily. “Quel dommage. I miss our daughter, and I wish that I could see her again.”
“Actually, I don’t know if this will help, but when I put on my shoes a moment ago, I could have sworn that one of them weighed a lot more than the other one. Do you think that our daughter could be hiding in my shoe?”
“It’s possible. You know how much she loves to hide in stinky, smelly shoes. In fact, it’s her favorite place in the whole world to hide.”
Gavin took a few more steps toward Emilie. “Maybe you could help me look?”
“All right, well…hold it out for me.”
By now, Penny was completely lost to her giggles, and before Emilie could even lean down, she leapt off Gavin’s leg. “Here I am!”
“My daughter!” Emilie shouted. “Oh, ma petite! I was so lost without you. Oh!” She kissed her on the cheek. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” She pecked her with kisses everywhere. “My beautiful, beautiful daughter!”
Gavin whisked Penny up, giggling himself a little when she shrieked with delight. He held her on his hip, and she kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for helping Mommy find me, Daddy.” She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. “I love you.”
Emilie smiled as something dark and tempting swirled in her eyes. Then she mouthed, “Me, too,” and stepped into his free arm. They stood together for a long moment. He kissed the top of Emilie’s head. All of the day’s resentments slowly dissipated and dissolved.
Horrible things happened. To people he knew and to people he would never meet. Dreadful, sickening, miserable, horrible things happened every second of every day. He couldn’t let himself forget for one moment how goddamn lucky he was that he got to stand here, safe in his kitchen, with two angels in his arms.
A large thump came from down the hall. Emilie chuckled and then gave him a small, warm kiss. “I’d better go see if anyone needs help in there.” She took Penny, who miraculously, seemed drowsy and subdued, from Gavin’s arms.
Gavin went back to the sink of dishes and didn’t think about the time until he heard the doorbell ring several minutes later. Had to be Gabby. “I got it!” he called to Emilie and Grayson and then headed for the door.
Emilie had hired Gabby a year and a half ago, citing Gabby’s love for Godard films as grounds for immediate hire, and Gabby had been their babysitter ever since. She always gave Gaston and Penny preference when other families wanted her for the night. Gavin had been a bit skeptical at first. She liked the color black a lot, especially for her hair and clothes. She’d seemed a bit on the sullen side when she sat for them in the beginning, but she’d loosened up and she’d grown on him, and now he trusted her completely.
Plus, Penny and Gaston adored her. She was the only person in the world who could get them in bed and asleep in less than fifteen minutes. That was reason enough for Gavin to keep her around.
When he opened the front door, however, her hoodie was pulled up, and she appeared agitated. “Mr. Stephens, what happened to your garage door?”
“Nothing that I know of. Why?”
Her eyes bugged out, and she bit her bottom lip. “You might want to go look.”
With a sigh of acceptance, he followed Gabby around the front of their house to the garage. “Holy shit,” he said when he saw it. Then he glanced at Gabby. “Don’t tell your mom I said that.”
She surrendered the tiniest of smiles, but otherwise didn’t say anything.
His attention was drawn back to the horrendous sight of his garage door. Someone had spray-painted the phrase “L’enfer, c’est l’amour!” in black then circled it with a red heart and slashed an angry red line through it.
“What does that mean?” Gabby asked.
“I’ll check with Emilie, but I’m pretty sure it translates to something like, ‘Love is hell.’”
Gabby marched up to the ghastly sight and swiped her thumb across the paint. When she pulled her hand away, he could make out a dark smudge on her fingertips. “Still wet,” she said. “Whoever did this is probably nearby. Do you think they’re in the woods?” Her eyes darted to the tree line. “Do you think they’re watching us right now or something like that?”
“I’m not sure. Most likely it’s nothing more than some kids engaging in random acts of vandalism.”
“But it’s in French.”
“True.” He eyed Gabby, who had her arms wrapped around her chest. “Let’s get inside. I should probably call Sheriff Blacker about this.” He put his hand on her back between her shoulder blades to usher her to
ward the door and noticed that she was trembling pretty hard. “Are you okay?”
“Umm…”
Her short, silky black hair covered most of her face as she continued to look down at the ground.
“Gabby?”
“It’s just kind of creepy.”
“Do you want me to see if you and the kids can stay with Sherri and Benji tonight? Would that make you feel better?”
She shrugged, still not looking up at him.
“It’s no problem. I’m sure they’ll understand, and I don’t want you at the house by yourself if you feel uncomfortable.” He gave her an awkward pat on the back. He didn’t realize something like a little graffiti would shake her up this much, but then maybe she’d had some kind of weird experience that made her squeamish. She didn’t come from the most stable of households, and Emilie told him that Gabby confessed to having to sleep in the shed at the back of their property a few times when one of her mom’s past boyfriends got violently drunk. Gavin had learned to accept Gabby’s weirdness without question, and he tried to be as supportive and positive as possible.
“Besides, you know how Sherri is. I’m pretty sure she’s revolted against Valentine’s Day since she was eleven. Doesn’t need an excuse to say ‘I love you,’ or something like that. Although one time our junior year she did dye her hair hot pink on February 12. She claims the decision was not connected in any way to ‘that meaningless, consumer-driven abomination of a holiday,’ but I’m pretty sure she had a major crush on Bobby Fink that year and was trying to get his attention. Do you have a sweetheart this year?”
“No,” Gabby answered softly, following him into the kitchen.
“That’s okay. You’re too young to be worried about boyfriends anyway.”
She smiled but didn’t say anything else. In fact, she looked a little sad, so he figured it best to move swiftly away from the topic of love interests. He was a lumbering hippo in a minefield when it came to dealings in the world of teen-girl angst. He needed something to distract her.
“You want some macaroni and cheese?”
She stared at him with her dark, solemn eyes for an uncomfortably long moment.
On second thought, he should probably send Emilie down anyway. She would handle this situation a million times better than him.
“You know what, I’m going to go check on the kids and see if Emilie can call Sherri. I’ll be right back. You okay down here by yourself for a second?”
She stared at him through her bangs, and she didn’t blink.
Yep, right now, he needed to cut his losses and retreat. He needed to get far away from teen-girl land because it looked like Gabby was heading into full-on surly mode. He knew it wasn’t directed at him, and that he shouldn’t take it personally, but she could hold out awkward silences better than anyone he knew. If she didn’t feel like talking to the adults, she wouldn’t. And he was the worst at dealing with her awkward silences.
“Okay, be right back then.” He turned and fled.
Chapter Three
Emilie had Penny on her lap, poised for their eighth round of Humpty Dumpty, when Gavin rushed through the bedroom door. After a few purposeful strides, he reached her and scooped Penny from her lap. “Gabby. Kitchen. Girl mode.”
When Emilie didn’t jump up, he tugged her arm. “Go, go, go!”
He took her place on the bed as Penny screeched, “Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall! Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall! Daddy! Humpty Dumpty! Humpty Dumpty!” She bounced up and down, trying to get the game going.
“What happened, Gav?” Emilie asked as she pulled Penny’s wet strands out of her face. Penny flailed her body, demanding Daddy continue with the rhyme, and Gavin obliged, bouncing her to Penny’s malformed Humpty Dumpty chant.
“I just mentioned a Valentine’s Day sweetheart, you know, trying to make friendly conversation, and she got all quiet.”
Emilie pursed her lips, trying to understand the issue. “Yes?”
“No, I mean, she got all quiet.”
“But what else? What is the problem?”
“Just…will you go talk to her? And could you call Sherri and ask if we could bring the kids and Gabby over to hers while we’re out?”
“Gavin, you are making no sense. Why on earth would I ask her that? And I don’t see why you couldn’t have just stayed down there to talk to Gabby. Would it kill you to try? You know, Penny is going to be a teenage girl one day, and you are going to have to talk to her about things you might not want to talk to her about, but I can’t talk to her about everything. So you might as well get some practice in now because that day will be here—”
“Honey! I understand. I do, but not today. I forgot to tell you that someone tagged our garage door with some French phrase, and Gabby’s a little shaken up by it, and so that plus whatever boy trouble…it seemed like you would be able to handle this in a timelier manner.”
Emilie narrowed her eyes at her totally adorable, totally hopeless husband. “I’m only going down there because you look so”—she threw on her thickest French accent—“attractive right now. Don’t think that’s going to work every time.” She walked out the door and took a few steps down the hall before she remembered.
“Gavin,” she said, stepping back into the room, “what is ‘tagged’? Do you mean someone put a tag on our garage door? That sounds absurd.”
“You don’t know what ‘tagged’ means? Really? All these years in the US and you haven’t heard that one?”
“Non.”
“Huh.” He shot her an amused smile, which quickly dissipated. “It means spray paint. Someone terrorized our garage door with it.”
“Non!”
Gavin nodded.
“Those bastards.”
“Bastards!” Penny immediately mimicked.
Emilie’s hand flew to her mouth.
“Emilie!” Gavin reprimanded. “Watch your language.”
“Sorry,” she said.
“That reminds me. Gaston Henri got in trouble today for using one of your choice phrases. He told John Ryan to go eat you-know-what, and he got moved down two colors.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again, grinning apologetically.
“Bastards! Bastards! Bastards!” Penny shouted.
“Penny, stop it. That’s a bad word.” Gavin covered her mouth with his hand because she started giggling and then said the word faster. “Just go call Sherri and talk to Gabby, please. I’ll handle this mess.”
Emilie mouthed “sorry” to him one more time and blew him a kiss. Then she remembered that her garage door was defiled, and she stomped the rest of the way to the kitchen, cursing the shit dick who’d done it, whoever he was.
A few minutes later, she had Sherri on the phone while she stood in front of her garage door glaring at the black-and-red abomination. Although, begrudgingly, she had to give credit to the culprit for adapting one of the most famous lines in French literature. She thought the twist on Sartre’s L’enfer, c’est les autres! quite clever. And Huis Clos was one of her favorite plays.
“If only the bastard had chosen a nice brick wall downtown for his antics. Or maybe even the sidewalk or something like that. You know, then I could truly appreciate its artistic merit.”
“Who says it was a he?” Sherri asked. “It very well could have been a girl.”
“This is true. Although, I have my sights set on castration if this…this…malefactor is ever caught.”
“Ooh, good word.”
“Merci, Judge Judy taught me that one.”
“Love that woman.”
“Oui. So anyways, our babysitter is a little shaken by the whole ordeal. And Gavin has been planning this whole Valentine’s Day night out. He’ll be very upset if we have to miss it. Do you think we could drop the kids off at yours?”
“Of course! Ethan is working tonight. Maybe I should tell him about your door? He could come take a look? I think Benji and I—Oh my god!” There were some odd muffled noises and a loud crack like a slamming
door.
“What? What is it? Sherri, are you okay?”
“That little shit!”
“Hello? Hello? What’s going on? Sherri?”
“Our little asswipe friend got my shed, too. There’s a big L’enfer, c’est l’amour! on the side of it. I am going to kill someone. Benji!”
Emilie waited patiently while Sherri found her husband and cursed at her shed some more. Finally, when Emilie could get a word in, she said, “So I guess I won’t be bringing Gabby and the kids over.”
“No, guess not. Sorry.”
“Hush. It’s not your fault.”
“I’m going to call Ethan, though. We have a repeat offender. That means this person is probably on the prowl for more victims, more houses to hit. Maybe we can catch them in the act. Do you think it’s one person? Or a team?” Sherri was muttering more to herself than to Emilie.
“Okay, I guess we’ll call Grandma. Let me know if Ethan finds anything. I get first dibs on this fils de pute’s balls.”
“Will do. Love you, girlie.”
“You, too.” Emilie made kissy noises then hung up. “Merde,” she whispered to herself. Gavin was going to freak out. He was practically on the verge of it already. She didn’t know what to do about that man sometimes. He seemed so tense lately, and when she tried to talk to him about it, he usually brushed it off like it was nothing. Just a stressful day. Just a weird morning. Just being dramatic. Those were always his excuses, but Emilie suspected more.
He’d started snapping. At her sometimes, but mostly at Grayson. Lately he’d taken to sequestering himself off in the office as soon as they got home and then crawling into bed after Emilie and Grayson were long asleep. He hardly ever wanted to work with her anymore. Or spend alone time with her. Or even be around her, it seemed. In fact, he hardly ever asked her to play board games with the kids or take a walk or make hot chocolate. Or do any of the things they used to love doing with each other and with their two darlings. When Emilie offered to join, he usually said something like, “I got it, hon. You go relax.” Or even “I’m almost done. Don’t worry about it.”