“Are you sure?”
“It’s the least I can do.”
“Your mother needs to wash her hands,” I paused, “oh, and the dishes, we need to make sure anything that touched the peanut butter is scrubbed…the bacon will have to be thrown out…and you’ll need a shower after it’s been cleaned.”
He nodded, letting out a slow breath. “I’ve got this,” he said, his eyes meeting mine seriously. “I promise you. I’ll get everything taken care of. I won’t risk anything hurting her.”
I smiled at him, but it wasn’t a smile that reached my eyes. My mind was elsewhere, racing through all that had gone wrong and all that still could. I replayed the instructions her doctor had given me after the first time she’d had a reaction. I remembered the way the hives came on fast, how she’d run out of air before we made it to the hospital.
No.
I pushed the thought from my head, walking toward her. “Thank you,” I said to him, lifting her up without warning and walking from the house. I needed some air.
* * *
That night, after Rynlee was put to sleep, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t make myself sleep. I was too worried. Too frantic. Everything felt dangerous now. What else had Coralee brought into my house? What else had I allowed into my home?
“How are you?” Jack asked, pulling his shirt from his head and slinking across the bed toward me.
I smiled halfheartedly, pinching the excess skin around my pinkie nail. “I’m okay.”
He kissed my hands. “I promise you I scrubbed every inch of this house that peanut butter could’ve gotten anywhere near. The dishes are all bleached and the cookies are double bagged and already in the garbage can outside.”
“I know,” I told him for the fifth time. I knew he’d done all he could, but it did nothing to ease my mind. “And you talked to your mom, right? You made her understand how serious it is?”
“I did,” he said, his lips grazing my jawline as his hand slid across my belly, his fingers creeping up under my T-shirt. He pulled away, pausing his movements. “I told her, and I made her throw out the peanut butter. She promised she wouldn’t ever bring it back into the house, and she’s…she’s so sorry, Loren. She feels terrible, really.”
“She doesn’t seem to.”
“She’s embarrassed. She doesn’t like to admit she forgets things anyway, but to admit she forgot something like this…to have endangered Rynlee and upset you, she’s just so frustrated with herself.” His eyes danced between mine. “What she did was terrible. Unforgivable. But, at the end of the day, Rynlee’s okay, right? Nothing happened, thanks to you. We can’t be mad at her forever.”
“She knew, Jack. She had to have known.”
He squeezed my hands, though I could see in his eyes he didn’t believe me. Not fully, anyway. “I’m not saying you have to forgive her right away, or even completely ever, but…just…she is sorry, okay?”
I nodded and rolled over, feeling his hand leave my skin slowly. When he lowered his head onto the pillow, there was no anger in his sigh and there was no rage as he rolled to his side and flipped off the light. Jack was nothing like my ex, yet just as blinded by something he loved. For Travis, it was music. For Jack, apparently it was going to be his mother.
I didn’t want to be that wife. I didn’t want to make my husband choose between one side of his family and another, especially when I longed to have a family of my own. Especially when my parents weren’t around and I’d never have to know the pain of choosing between a spouse and a parent. I loved him, and I needed this to work. I needed him to know I’d do anything to keep him, to keep our family together. But I couldn’t pretend everything was okay.
How was I going to tell my husband I was pretty sure his mother had tried to kill our child?
Chapter Fourteen
Loren
A few days later, after no further incident, I had convinced myself I’d overreacted. Was I really sure she knew about the peanut butter? I’d told her, but what if she was distracted? What if she truly didn’t remember? She’d been nothing but kind since that day, and had even bought groceries to thank us for letting her stay. The night before, she’d surprised Rynlee with a coloring book and a new set of markers. I felt guilty for the harsh words—harsher thoughts—I’d had about Coralee, and I planned to tell her so the next time I saw her.
I pressed a pen of eyeliner to my eyelid, drawing a thin line. I jumped as my phone buzzed on the vanity. When I flipped it over to read the message on the screen, my stomach knotted immediately.
Meredith.
I opened the message, reading over the three short sentences repeatedly:
Will be gone longer...maybe much. I think I’m in love. How’s the store? Xx.
How was I supposed to respond to that? I groaned, rubbing a finger in between my eyebrows to smooth the wrinkle I felt forming. Finally, I tapped the reply box and began to type.
Store’s fine, but it’s been a lot. We really need you ba—
No.
I erased it.
Meredith deserved happiness, she did. And if it truly was love, I didn’t want to make her feel guilty for it. She’d always been my rock, there for me when I needed it. It seemed like it was my turn to return the favor.
Oooh, love, huh? I can’t wait to meet him. Hope you’re having fun. Store’s fine, Becky’s a lifesaver. We’ll hold down the fort until you get back. Hope to see you soon. Xx.
With that, I placed the phone face down and swiped eyeliner across the other eyelid until they matched. When they did, I stood up, running a hand through my hair. That’ll do.
I left my bedroom, listening carefully for noise downstairs as I made my way down the hall. Jack had already left for work and I hadn’t heard a peep from Rynlee yet, so I’d need to wake her up soon. I needed to spend the next few days at the store for an entire shift. As amazing as Becky was, I couldn’t keep relying on her to keep everything afloat. That wasn’t her job, it was mine. Er, it was mine and Meredith’s, but effectively mine for the foreseeable future.
When I stepped onto the hardwood of the first floor, I instantly knew something was wrong. Now that I was on the same level, Rynlee’s quiet laughter could be heard coming from down the hall.
I looked around me, trying to determine where she was. “Rynlee?” I called.
The laughter immediately stopped. “Rynlee? Where are you?” I took a step toward the noise. Was it coming from the bathroom? The den?
Then, I heard hurried footsteps and I had my answer. The office.
I moved toward it quickly. Rynlee wasn’t allowed in my office. It was where I kept all of our important documents, everything I needed for work. I swung the chestnut door open, my jaw dropping. “What did you do?” I asked, lowering myself to her level.
My daughter stood in front of me, her head hung down, three markers in each of her tiny hands. When I lifted her chin, her face was just as covered in ink as the rest of her. “Rynlee…why—?” I couldn’t speak as I looked around my usually pristine office. Papers littered the floor, excel sheets and receipts covered in marker to the point that they’d become illegible, she’d drawn scribbly pictures all over the suede chair I’d had since she was a newborn, and the pictures I’d had hung on the wall—the business plans and family photos, were all torn down up to a certain height. Glass littered the floor where the frames had fallen. I looked back to my daughter in horror, her tiny, blue eyes already filled with tears.
“Why would you do this, baby?” I asked, my voice shaking as I tried to keep my anger in check. “You know you aren’t allowed in Mommy’s office. And who gave you markers? Those have to stay in the kitchen.”
“I’m sorry, Mommy,” she cried, no real answer given. Her rainbow fists balled up and she placed them over her eyes, falling into my arms and nearly knocking the two of us down. I placed one hand behind me to steady us and a piece of glass nicked my palm.
“It’s okay,” I said, patting her back as I scanned t
he room again. I placed my bleeding palm in my mouth, trying to stop the bleeding. It’s all just stuff. It can be fixed. It can be fixed. It can be fixed. I repeated the mantra over and over, trying to remain calm when all I wanted to do was cry. How had this happened? I hadn’t even known she was awake. My room was always the first place she went when she woke up. I pulled her away from my chest. “Why didn’t you come wake me up, sweetheart? When you woke up, why didn’t you come to Mommy’s room?”
She frowned, still rubbing her eyes. “I don’t know.”
Okay, how about an easier one? “Who gave you markers?”
Her eyes went wide. “Ms. Coralee.”
My suspicions were confirmed. I placed the markers on top of my desk and stood, lifting her with me. I had to go. I had to think. Angry, venom-filled thoughts raced through my mind. I shut the office door as we stepped out into the hall, unable to look at the mess waiting for me when I returned. I moved toward the living room, then the kitchen, and found Coralee exactly where I’d found her last time.
“Did you give Rynlee markers?” I asked my mother-in-law, her back to me as she flipped a pancake.
She spun around. “Yes, I—oh. Oh, God.” She stared at my daughter’s colorful arms, legs, and face. “Oh, no.” Her frail, wrinkled fingers moved to her lips.
“She’s not allowed to have markers unless someone’s sitting with her at the table. She…destroyed my office.”
“I don’t know the rules of the house. I didn’t even think…I’m not used to having a little one around.” She paused. No apology. “I was trying to be nice. You were still in bed and she was bored.” She gestured toward the pan. “I was even making her pancakes—no peanut butter, don’t worry.”
I sighed, bouncing her higher on my hip as her weight began to be too much. “It’s fine, I just…okay.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her excuse was believable enough, but I was still furious. Now I was going to end up late for work, and I wouldn’t be able to leave until I’d cleaned my office, there was no question about that. I stepped back out of the kitchen and hurried down the hall, headed toward the bathroom.
“Are you mad at me, Mommy?” Rynlee asked as I pulled her clothes off.
“No, baby, I’m not mad at you. But you do know better than to color on anything but paper. And especially not anything in Mommy’s office. Why would you do that?”
“I drew you a picture,” she said, her tiny voice an octave higher than usual.
I huffed out a breath, hoisting her into the bath.
“Are you mad at Ms. Coralee?” she asked, sinking into the water and watching as the colors melted away almost instantly. I could only hope my office would do the same with a bit of soap and water, though I knew the papers wouldn’t be salvageable.
“No, baby, I’m not mad at anyone.”
“Mommy?” she said, glancing back at me worriedly.
“Yes?”
“You’re bleeding.”
I looked down at my hand, where her gaze led me, to see crescent moons carved into my palm. Seeing the wounds gave way for the pain to hit me. I shook my hand, reaching for some toilet paper to staunch it. “You’re right, I am. It’s okay, just a little blood.” If I looked closely enough, I’d find little crescent moon scars in similar places on both palms, but it was a habit I thought I’d broken with the disappearance of Rynlee’s father—the disappearance of my stress. It seemed there was a new stress in my life now. I’d have to do something about that.
Chapter Fifteen
Loren
A few nights later, Jack and I both worked late. By the time I arrived home, Rynlee was fast asleep. I carried her from the car into the house, her body dead weight in my arms.
Coralee was sitting on the couch wearing an emerald green dress, her hair perfectly curled. She shot up at the sight of me, standing in my presence as I pictured her doing to her husband for so many years.
“What’s the occasion?” I asked, eyeing her.
“No occasion,” she told me. “I just wanted to get back to feeling like myself. I made dinner for you all. Lasagna.” Her smile was tight, and I had a feeling she was going to ask me for a favor.
I looked around the house. “Where’s Jack?”
“He just went up to take a shower. He’ll be back down soon. Can I take something from you?” she asked, though she didn’t extend her arms to match her words.
“No, that’s okay,” I said, probably too sharply. “I need to get her laid down. We stopped and grabbed dinner on our way home.”
“Oh,” she said, her voice falling so much it made me feel guilty. Slightly guilty.
“I appreciate you making dinner, though, really. Jack should’ve told you. We typically eat out if both of us work late.”
She jerked her head in what looked like a nod, but was too quick. “Of course. Not to worry, it’ll keep. I’ll go make Jack and me a plate, then.”
I nodded, not wanting to point out that Jack had likely already eaten, too. Rynlee’s weight was already too much, and I had a flight of stairs to make it up. “Good night, Coralee.” I strode past her, making my way up the stairs and toward Rynlee’s bedroom. I didn’t bother changing her clothes—she was exhausted, as was I. Instead, I covered her up, kissed her forehead, then retreated to my own room, desperate to get out of my clothes.
I pushed the bedroom door open, smiling at Jack as he turned around, shock on his face as he attempted to cover himself with a towel.
“Well, hello handsome,” I said, offering a half-laugh.
He gave me a lopsided grin, letting the towel fall away. “Hello, beautiful. How was your day?”
I winced. “I wish you hadn’t asked.”
His face went serious. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to think about it right now,” I said, climbing onto the bed on my knees and making my way toward him. I ran a finger down his still-wet chest. “I’d rather think about you, fresh out of the shower.” I pressed my lips into his, one hand moving to the back of his neck. He groaned, falling to the bed on top of me as our kisses grew more passionate.
His hand slid up my side, his palms cool on my skin as his kisses moved to my neck. “I missed you,” he whispered, his teeth grazing my ear.
“I missed you, too,” I admitted, pulling him back to my lips. It had been so long since we’d had a moment to ourselves. It seemed that since the wedding, our alone time had been more scant than ever.
He rubbed his hand over my hair, his movements tender when I wanted passion. I bit his lip in between kisses, trying to steer him in the right direction. He pulled away, his brow raised teasingly.
“Feisty, huh?” He nipped at my lip, trailing his kisses across my jawline and down my chest until the fabric of my shirt stopped him. Instead of moving my shirt out of the way, he sat up. “To be continued, I’m afraid.”
“Huh?” I asked, shocked back to reality.
“I have to go eat dinner with Mom,” he said.
“Can’t it wait?”
“I don’t want to make her wait too long.”
“No, just me, then?”
He kissed me again, trying to keep the peace, but I was no longer in the mood to be pleasant. “I won’t keep you waiting long either.”
“Didn’t you already eat?” I asked, still pouting, as he pulled his pajama pants on. He grabbed a T-shirt out of the drawer and pulled it over his head.
“No, Mom called me and told me not to because she was cooking for us, didn’t she call you?”
“Seriously?” I asked, propping myself up on my elbows.
“Yeah, I told her we always eat out when we work late, and she said she’d call you.”
“She didn’t.”
He looked toward our door, his brows drawn together in confusion. “Hm. Sorry, babe. It must’ve slipped her mind.”
“Yeah, right.”
“What’s that mean?” he asked, slight frustration in his voice.
“Just that I don’t think any of this
is an accident, Jack. I can’t believe you can look at me with a straight face and say you do. She’s never been nice to me, she tried to poison Rynlee, today she gave her markers and let her destroy my office—”
“She what?”
“Yeah, when I woke up, Rynlee had colored all over my office, furniture included. I took pictures.” I reached for my phone to show him the devastation. “She broke picture frames, too. There was a lot of important stuff in there that’s ruined.”
He scrolled through the pictures with his thumb before handing it back to me. “Did you get it cleaned up?”
“Yeah, but it made me three hours late for work, and there’s still a lot I have to do. The chair is completely ruined.”
“Did you ask Mom about it? Are you sure she’s the one who gave her the markers? Maybe Rynlee got into them on her own—”
“Yes, I asked. She told me she was. I’m half-convinced she put her in the office as well.”
He cocked his head to the side, his expression full of disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am, Jack. I think she’s doing every bit of this on purpose, including leaving me and Rynlee out of dinner plans.”
“Oh, come on, Lor.”
“Come on, what?”
“She’s not doing that on purpose. She’s not evil, she’s just…grieving. She’s probably not thinking clearly with so much on her mind. She told me she’s really enjoying her time here. I can’t thank you enough for letting her stay.”
I stared at him. Was he right? Was I going crazy with suspicion? Truth was, I couldn’t be sure.
Before I could respond, he spoke again. “This is hard on all of us, you know? It’s not like I planned for this to be the start of our marriage.”
“How much longer will she be staying?” I asked the question that could solve everything.
“I have no idea,” he said, then, when I frowned, he added, “not too much longer, I’m sure.”
The Mother-in-Law Page 8
