But a bigger question in Amy’s mind was, How did she notice ME? Amy had been so consumed with the move and settling in that most days she showed up to Noah’s camp wearing an unremarkable shorts-and-T-shirt ensemble, with her hair pulled back in a ponytail and no makeup on. Had she let herself go so much that Emily noticed her because she was such a hot mess? Or had she maybe caught Amy in a bad moment one morning, when she was yelling at Noah to just get out of the car for crying out loud? Amy’s mind raced through several unpleasant scenarios.
“Anyway, I just wanted to introduce myself,” Emily went on. “Jake always talks about how Noah knows how to spell ‘all the words’ and wants to know why he can’t spell ‘all the words.’ Sounds like Noah is a little smarty-pants.” She smiled.
“Noah definitely doesn’t know how to spell all the words,” Amy said, though she knew to another four-year-old, it probably seemed as if he did.
“More than Jake, I’m guessing. He can barely spell his own name.”
“Kids learn at different paces. They’re only four.”
“Oh, I’m not worried. Please. My eldest is seven and didn’t even speak until he was, like, two, and now he won’t shut up. They all get there eventually. I mean, hello—have you ever met an adult who never learned to talk or walk or spell?” She paused. “I take back the spelling bit. I’ve read the comments section of too many articles. Crap. Jake is going to be one of those people, isn’t he? Damn it.”
Amy smiled. She liked Emily. She managed to be both high energy and low-key, and although Amy didn’t like making snap judgments about people, she felt fairly comfortable giving Emily a thumbs-up. She knew part of her quick approval was due to her desire to befriend someone other than Grace. Not that there was anything wrong with Grace. She liked Grace—a lot. But Grace was the only friend she’d made since they’d moved, and she was hoping to have more than a single friend.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Amy said.
“Let’s hope so. That’s what an education is for, right?”
“Exactly.”
“So do you know where you’re sending Noah in the fall?”
“Funny you should ask. I was going to stop by Beth Israel today to check it out, as soon as I finish up my work and this muffin.”
Amy nodded toward her plate, but when she glanced down she noticed the muffin was gone. All that remained were a few moist crumbs, which clung to the paper wrapper. She’d finished it? When? Had she been eating it the whole time they’d been talking? Amy suddenly had visions of herself shoveling hunks of muffin into her mouth like a wild animal, while Emily, horrified, pretended not to notice. Had she enjoyed it? She thought so. She remembered the first few mouthfuls, before Emily came over. Those were good. But the rest . . . She honestly couldn’t remember.
“That’s where Jake goes!” Emily cried, interrupting Amy’s panicked and somewhat mortified interior monologue. “Oh my God, it’s the best. You will love it. It’s like one big family. The kids are all so happy.”
“That’s what I’ve heard,” Amy said. “It sounds super.”
“So exciting! Jake will be thrilled.”
“Really?” Amy tried not to sound surprised, but for Noah to have not one but two friends . . . it made her wonder. Had they done something wrong in Washington? Maybe Noah’s lack of friends hadn’t been his fault at all. Maybe she and Rob had screwed something up, and now that they were in a new place with new people, Noah had a chance to start again. She knew she sometimes projected when it came to Noah, but maybe she’d gone too far. Maybe he was more social and well-adjusted than she’d ever been.
“Oh, yeah. Jake, Noah, and Ethan have been like the Three Musketeers all summer.”
“I didn’t realize. Noah isn’t great when it comes to sharing details about his day.”
“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call Jake a detailed and reliable narrator. But I usually manage to get a few things out of him. I’m talking bare bones, but Ethan and Noah’s names always come up, so I figure they spend a lot of time together.” Her eyes flitted to Amy’s laptop. “Anyway! I should let you go and finish your work. I just wanted to pop over to introduce myself.”
“I’m so glad you did. We should get the boys together sometime.”
“That would be fabulous. What’s your number?” She got out her phone and plugged in Amy’s number as Amy recited it to her. “Perfect. I will definitely be in touch. In the meantime, good luck with your work. And enjoy your muffin . . . or whatever’s left of it!”
Amy forced a smile, wondering if the real person who would have trouble making friends in this town would be her, and not her son.
Chapter 9
“So wait, you don’t remember eating the muffin?”
“No! It’s like one minute it was there, and then I looked down and—poof!—it was gone.”
Rob snorted on the other end of the phone. “Could it have fallen on the floor?”
“The wrapper was still there. And a few crumbs.”
“That definitely suggests consumption. Hmmm.”
Amy hugged her phone between her ear and shoulder and checked the mailbox. There was one letter for Julian, but the rest was for them.
“I do remember taking a few bites while I worked on that grant proposal,” Amy said, “but that’s it.”
“Was it good?”
“I think so? I remember really liking those first few bites, but the rest . . . I mean, what if I was just pounding chunks of muffin into my face while this woman was talking to me?”
Rob laughed. “You probably finished it before she even came over. Why do you care so much anyway?”
“Because I basically blacked out while eating and probably made an ass of myself in front of a potential new friend!”
“You didn’t black out. You remember the conversation you had, right? And the work you were doing? You were probably so invested in both that you weren’t thinking about something as trivial as a muffin.”
“You know how I feel about muffins.”
“Whatever. You didn’t make an ass of yourself, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“How do you know? You weren’t there.”
“Because I know you, and you’re smart and sweet and delightful, and anyone with a brain picks up on that the second they meet you.”
“I feel like I’ve heard you give Noah this pep talk before.”
Rob sighed. “I need to get back to work. You’re fine. Everything is fine. Oh, but did you end up talking to that nonprofit?”
“I did. They definitely have work for me.”
“That’s great!”
“Sort of. The pay blows.”
“How bad?”
“A thousand bucks. For what will probably be a month’s work.”
“That’s not . . . terrible. Remember how Carly said she was only making like fifty dollars an article?”
“Just because the pay isn’t ‘journalism terrible’ doesn’t mean it isn’t bad. I could probably make more than that working at Starbucks.”
“Probably,” Rob conceded.
Amy groaned. “A college degree, and I’m making what amounts to less than minimum wage.”
“You’ve been a little busy.”
“Doing what?”
“Uh, being a mom? Moving cities? Do I need to break this down for you?”
Amy sighed. “No. But how long is the ‘mom excuse’ going to fly?”
“It isn’t an excuse. You made a choice to step back from work to focus on our kid. End of story.”
“I know, but . . . I guess when I made that decision, I didn’t realize I’d feel so professionally . . . anemic. Like, I’m so glad I’ve been there for Noah, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything—anything —but at the same time, I feel as if I’ve lost a part of myself. Who I used to be.”
“Don’t you think that would have happened anyway? I’ve changed. I mean, if you were the exact same person before and after you had a kid . . . I kind of think maybe you wouldn’t
be a particularly good parent.”
“Agreed. But what I’m talking about . . . Noah will be in kindergarten next year. He’s growing up. Soon he won’t need me so much. And I just worry that I won’t have anything to fill the space he leaves behind.”
“Listen. You’re doing the best you can. It’s not as if you’ve been doing nothing the past four years. You had a job. You’ve been freelancing. You have something to show for yourself—maybe not as much as you would have if you’d kept working full time, or if Noah hadn’t come along, but something. And I have no doubt in my mind that you’ll be able to build that something back into a full-time gig when the time is right. Okay?”
Amy let out a gust of air. She hoped he was right. He sounded so authoritative and . . . certain. She did love that about him. Her husband was not a man who dabbled in what-ifs. You make decisions based on the information in front of you, he always said, and if the situation changes, you adjust. It sounded so simple when he said it, but Amy was a planner and a worrier, and some days she couldn’t see how it would all work out.
“Okay,” Amy said. “Sorry for sucking up a chunk of your day.”
“Please. This is nothing compared to earlier when my mom called.”
Amy snickered. “What was it this time?”
“Oh, you know, the usual. The neighbor’s dog keeps shitting on their lawn. Dad got a fender bender in the Giant parking lot. His knees are driving him crazy. Et cetera.”
“Doesn’t she realize you’re at the office?”
“Realize? Yes. Care? No. Oh, but she did mention something interesting.”
“Interesting?”
“Well, maybe I shouldn’t go that far, but anyway. She was going on and on about Dad and his knees, and she said something about it being so bad that the night they babysat, he ended up rooting through our bathroom in search of Aleve or Advil.”
Amy’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
“Yeah, so he was the one who undid your ‘system,’ or whatever you call it.”
“That’s great!”
“Uh . . . I thought you were pissed about it being messed up.”
“No, I mean . . . it’s not great that he messed with my system, just that I now know he’s the one who did.”
“As opposed to . . . me?”
Amy remembered that she still hadn’t told Rob about Julian and his issues, and now that it was clear Julian hadn’t done anything wrong, she hardly saw the point in bringing it up, at least in this context.
“Or me, I guess. The whole scenario had me feeling like I’d gone a little crazy.”
“You organize your medicine by type and letter, and have no memory of eating an entire muffin. I . . . think the boat has sailed on crazy.”
Amy clicked her tongue. “Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me, so there.” She glanced at the clock. “Crap. Gotta run. Time to pick up Noah.”
“Give him a kiss for me. I’ll be home for dinner. Want me to pick up anything on the way?”
“Other than a new brain?”
“Preferably something we can eat.”
“Maybe Chinese. We haven’t had that in a while.”
“Done. And hey, if you’re lucky”—Amy could hear him smiling through the phone—“maybe I’ll even pick up another muffin.”
“I hate you,” she said, and they both laughed.
* * *
As Amy made her way from her car to the camp pavilion, she ran into Grace and Ethan walking to their car.
“Glad to see Noah made it back today,” Grace said.
“Not as glad as I am.”
Grace glanced at Ethan, who was momentarily distracted by a cawing bird in the tree above them. “Totally get it,” Grace said in a low voice. “Sick days are the worst.”
“So, Ethan, did you and Noah have fun today?”
Ethan nodded enthusiastically. “We threw water balloons and they exploded everywhere!”
“Wow, that does sound fun.”
“Noah dropped his and it exploded on his feet, and he cried, but then Miss Donna gave him another one, so he was okay.”
“Aw, that’s good. Though I have to say—I think you just told me more about your camp day than Noah has the entire summer. Maybe you’re the one I need to be asking about how Noah’s day went.”
Grace tousled Ethan’s hair. “To be honest, that was the most I’ve heard either. Maybe we need to swap kids.”
“No!” Ethan protested.
“I’m kidding, sweetie.” She looked at Amy and subtly rolled her eyes. “Although some days . . .”
“Some days what?” He looked at her suspiciously.
“Nothing. Anyway, Ethan and I have to get to the haircut place before it gets too crowded, but I’ve been meaning to call you today—are you and Rob free this weekend?”
“I think so.” Amy quickly went through her mental calendar. The truth was, since moving, they rarely had elaborate weekend plans. Their date night on Tuesday was the first they’d had since moving, and they hadn’t set up anything else. “Yeah, we’re around.”
“I was thinking . . . maybe the four of us could go out to dinner? Nothing fancy—just a neighborhood place. But I thought it might be nice for us to get together. I had a lot of fun on our girls’ night, and I think Rob and Julian would get along.”
“Oh—sure. That sounds great. I mean, I’d need to find a sitter. Which, frankly, right now means my in-laws.”
“Why don’t you drop Noah at our place? Or I guess my parents’ place. They’ll be out, but we have a sitter we use all the time—Kara. She’s fabulous. The boys can play, and Noah can conk out in Ethan’s room until we get back.”
Ethan gasped. “Noah is coming for a sleepover?”
“Not exactly. Just for part of the night. If his mommy and daddy are okay with it.”
He started jumping up and down. “Please, please, please, please!”
“I’d need to talk to Rob, but . . . I’m sure it’s fine. Let me just make sure he doesn’t have any plans that I didn’t know about. Which day were you thinking?”
“Saturday? We’re flexible, but usually Saturdays work better for us.”
“I’ll check with Rob and will let you know tonight.”
“Great. We can take care of the reservation. Anything I should know before I do? Allergies, food aversions, that kind of thing?”
“Rob is allergic to shellfish, but otherwise he pretty much eats anything. And I really do eat everything, shellfish included.”
Grace tapped her fingers against her bottom lip. “Hmm. Okay. We’ll come up with something. There’s a Mediterranean place in Elkins Park that’s pretty good. It’s BYO, though I guess Julian isn’t really drinking these days, so we might not ‘B’ anything.”
“You can always have some of ours. Unless us bringing a bottle would be . . . unhelpful.”
“No, I think it’s probably fine.” She paused in a moment of thought. “Actually, let me ask him. He doesn’t like to make a big deal about it, especially in front of other men. He may just say he’s the designated driver and leave it at that.”
“It’s fine with us either way. I haven’t said anything to Rob about . . . the situation.” She chose her words carefully, knowing that although Ethan was distracted by an oddly shaped rock he’d found on the ground, he could still hear them.
“I’d say you can tell him, but then Julian doesn’t really know I’ve said anything to you, so . . . I’d rather not make a fuss. I can tell you from experience, it definitely isn’t something he’ll want to discuss at dinner.”
“Oh, I’d never bring it up.”
“I’m not saying you would—I’m just flagging it. We were out with his brother a few weeks ago, and his brother started asking a thousand questions, and . . . yeah. It didn’t go well. I don’t think he’s ready to talk about it with anyone other than his group, or me. And frankly he doesn’t even like talking about it to me.”
“Understood.”
“Mommy, can we just go?”
“Yes, we’re going.” Grace threw her eyes to the sky. “Like I’m some kind of chauffeur or something.”
“Sounds familiar. Time for me to pick up my charge.”
“Let me know what Rob says about Saturday, and we can go from there.”
“Will do. Have a good haircut, Ethan! Hopefully Noah will come play on Saturday.”
“Yaaaaay!” he squealed, and chased his mother up the gravel path to the parking lot.
* * *
That Saturday, Amy and Rob dropped Noah off at Grace’s parents’ house, a grand stone estate set on three acres of property with a gated driveway, lush gardens, and a tennis court. Grace had told Amy to pull up in front of the carriage house where she, Julian, and Ethan were staying.
“This is the guesthouse?” Rob asked in amazement.
“Apparently.” Amy’s eyes ran up the front of the carriage house, which looked less like the detached garage she’d imagined and more like . . . well, an actual house. It was smaller than their house, but then shouldn’t it be? Who needed that much space?
“Jeez,” Rob said. “I think it’s bigger than you’re mom’s place.”
“I think you’re right.”
“What do her parents do again?”
“I can’t remember. I’m not sure she ever told me. Whatever it is, it’s something that has made them very rich.”
They got out of the car and knocked on the front door of the guesthouse. Amy could hear small footsteps clambering toward them.
“They’re here, they’re here!” Ethan’s muffled voice rang out behind the door.
Grace opened it and smiled. “Hey, guys. Come on in.”
She led them into the living area, which had an open floor plan, with the main family room area leading into an open kitchen outfitted with a sink, a gas range, a dishwasher, and a round, wooden table surrounded by four chairs.
The Last House on Sycamore Street Page 11