by Karina Bliss
“Umm.” She glanced around helplessly, clearly flustered.
He tamped down his impatience. Meredith hadn’t liked Linda any more than he did but she had a soft heart. “I’ll check Linda’s car.”
He found the car seat in the garage, still holding half a cracker from an earlier journey. Picking off the fluff, Ross handed it to Harry, then strapped the happier toddler in the Range Rover while his mother went round the house collecting baby stuff.
When he returned to the front door, she was standing in the hall, looking at the spot where Linda had fallen. “I feel we should say something,” she mumbled.
It was a civilian preoccupation, wringing meaning from death, and in this case he had no patience for it. “She was a terrible woman,” he said bluntly. “You know it, I know it. We’re going to have to pretend otherwise for Charlie but between ourselves we can be honest.”
“And yet you worked so hard to resuscitate her.” His sister-in-law, normally so reserved, seemed to stare right into him.
For Charlie. “Maybe I just wanted Linda beholden to me for saving her life.” It occurred to Ross how much she would have hated that and he smiled grimly.
“Why do you talk like that?”
He shrugged. Death didn’t make saints out of sinners even if he’d seen the bereaved reinvent loved ones until they were unrecognizable. And wasn’t that the ultimate irony? “I’m sorry she’s dead because it will hurt my brother and Tilly. But Linda wouldn’t have cried over me and I’m not sugarcoating the truth for the sake of political correctness.”
“Whatever she did to you, you need to forgive her,” she said.
Ross snorted. “Turn the other cheek? Personally I’ve always found an eye for an eye works a hell of a lot better.”
“You’ve changed, Ross,” she said slowly. “I mean you were always a hard-ass but…” Meredith brushed a loose strand of hair off her cheek and he noticed her nail polish exactly matched her lipstick. Earlier he’d suspected she’d come from a lunch date.
“Yeah, well, I’m equally disappointed in you,” he said. Ross did a visual check on Harry in the Range Rover. The baby was happy with the cracker.
Meredith stared at him. “Why would you be disappointed in M—me?”
The innocent act again. “Look, say a few words if you have to, but make it snappy. I’ve got a long night ahead of me.”
She opened her handbag and pulled out a thick gilt-edged book the size of an index card.
“Is that a bible?”
“No, a saints book.” Meredith flipped through the pages. “Here’s one. Saint Barbara covers sudden death… Oh dear, she also looks after ammunition workers. You can’t help but think the two are connected.”
Maybe she was still in shock. “Meredith, this is a waste of—”
“Found one.” Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and bowed her head. “Linda, there’s no point pretending you were a nice person. But without you there wouldn’t be Charlie or Tilly or Harry so we thank you for them.” Ross found himself bowing his head. “And for their sake, we ask Saint Joseph, the patron saint of happy, holy death, to make a case for you at the pearly gates.” His mouth twitched. The timbre of Meredith’s voice seemed huskier than usual. She must really be upset. “Rest in peace,” she finished. “Amen.”
He lifted his head and met her expectant look. “Amen.”
They didn’t talk much on the drive to her house. Harry finished his cracker and began fussing again. His mother couldn’t soothe him. “He’s hungry.”
“Any food left in the baby bag?”
“I’ll check.” She found a half bottle of milk and Ross caught a faint scent of honeysuckle as she unfastened her seat belt and leaned over the seat to pass it to Harry. Since when had he noticed his sister-in-law’s perfume?
“I’ve been thinking,” she said as he turned onto her road. “If you time your arrival at Findlay Park after all the kids are in bed then Charlie can adjust to the shock before he has to tell Tilly. And she gets a good night’s sleep before she has to deal with it. You could drive home first thing in the morning.”
Ross examined the idea. “I’ll do that.”
As they got out of the Range Rover, Salsa started barking, which just showed how long it had been since he’d visited. Any contact with the kids these days was through Charlie.
Meredith unstrapped Harry from his car seat. “Could you…ah…grab the seat while I take Harry?”
“Sure.” Dumping her bags in the car seat, Ross picked it up in one hand and opened the gate with the other. “Sit,” he ordered the barking dog and, with an apologetic whine, Salsa complied. “Yeah, you’ve forgotten your manners.” Ross bent to give him a rough pat. Salsa’s stubby tail wagged at Harry, in Meredith’s arms.
“So, Harry’s the key to the dog,” she said behind him.
“What?”
“Can you hold Harry while I find the key?”
Her cell rang as she rummaged in her bag, with a zippy time he recognized as “New York, New York.”
“Hello…oh…hey.” With her other hand she fumbled the key in the lock and opened the door. “I…can’t talk right now.”
Stepping inside, Ross put Harry down and the baby toddled over to Salsa who was licking a brown-red streak off the windowpane beside the front door. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was dried blood.
“No, I’m not putting you off.” Meredith glanced over at him. Clearly she was lying and the male caller knew it, too, because Ross could hear his volume rising. “Look, I’ll call you later…yes…we’ll talk about this, I promise. Goodbye.”
Ross distinctly heard the sound of blown kisses. He folded his arms and reminded himself that it was none of his business that his sister-in-law was a goddamn hypocrite for pretending she was still heartbroken over Charlie. Meredith hung up. “Telesales,” she said brightly.
He raised his brows. “And you’re calling them back?”
“Who doesn’t need another insurance policy?”
Ross glanced around for Harry and saw he’d wandered into the playroom. “Liar,” he said in disgust. “You’re still playing doctors and nurses with the guy you screwed Charlie over with.” Her mouth fell open. “Don’t worry I won’t tell my brother. He’s got enough to deal with.”
“I would never have an affair.”
“See here’s where you and I part ways on our definition of fidelity,” he said. “I think tonsil hockey with another man is off the agenda for a married woman. Call me old-fashioned.”
Her fury was unexpected. “Who started that rumor…who?”
“What are you talking about? You admitted it.”
She looked at him blankly. No hint of remorse. Ross felt a wave of protectiveness toward Charlie.
Ross had been twelve when his mother died and he’d had to move in with his father and Linda. Charlie had been six and his mother’s baby, which meant he dressed like a sissy and had no practical skills because Linda did everything for him.
Ross had expected to hate him and he did. Hated the kid’s homemade sympathy cards, hated how he shared his lame computer games and really hated being told earnestly that even though his mother had gone to heaven, he didn’t have to worry, because he still had a brother.
Charlie was like one of those weighted punching-bag toys…bouncing up smiling after every smackdown.
Walking home from middle school his first day, Ross saw his half brother being bullied at the adjoining junior school. He did nothing. Let Mummy sort it out. But Charlie didn’t tell Mummy that night. Or Daddy, who spent most of his time working to support his second wife’s lifestyle. Instead Charlie said he’d fallen over. Seemed he was accident-prone.
Ross resisted intervening for three days—that’s how badly he wanted to protect himself from caring. On the fourth, he told the bullies he’d beat the crap out of them if they ever touched his little brother again.
“But I’m perfect,” Meredith protested. “Perfect wife, perfect mother, perfect
everything.”
Over the past few months, this woman had pummeled Charlie emotionally, and Ross had stood back and let his little brother fight his own battles. Metaphorically it was day four.
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what game you think you’re playing but I’m not letting you give Charlie any more grief than he’s already facing. Pull your head in and behave yourself for the next few days, you hear me?”
“Or what?” She’d lost some of her bravado.
“Your ex is about to come into money, honey,” he pointed out. “Imagine the edge that would give him if he renewed his bid for full custody. He listened to me once. I’m sure I can get him to listen to me again.”
Chapter Five
Lugging Harry in his car seat, Viv walked into Merry’s room at Waikato Hospital Orthopedic Unit at six-thirty the following morning, her eyes gritty from a three-thirty start. And her brain reeling from Ross’s disclosure. Not to mention his threat.
The room could hold two patients but the other bed was empty. One leg in a split cast that ran from midthigh to ankle, Merry was half sitting, staring out the fifth floor window at the pink dawn. With her face as pale as the white hospital gown, her dark hair pulled into a ponytail and her hands clasped, she could be a nun at morning prayers.
She didn’t look like a woman who’d cheated on her husband.
“Hey,” Viv called softly. “How are you feeling?”
Merry’s head swung around. Her first glance went to Harry, fast asleep, then she sank against the pillows. “Why do I have a text from Charlie thanking me for trying to save Linda’s life?”
Thank heavens. Breaking the news had been the part Viv dreaded the most. Everything else was reversible. “She didn’t suffer.”
Brown eyes widening, Merry covered her mouth. “So it’s true…she’s dead?”
“I’m afraid so.” Shrugging off the overnight bag she carried over her left shoulder along with the baby bag, Viv planted the car seat on the floor and stretched out her spine.
“And I always told Charlie his mother exaggerated her heart condition,” her twin whispered through her fingers.
“It wasn’t her heart.” Viv pulled up a chair and filled her in on the accident. Merry cried.
“She was a bitch but…”
Viv reached for her hand. “It’s a terrible way to go.”
“Poor, poor Linda.” Merry’s grip tightened. “And poor you, having to deal with her accident. But why would Charlie think I was there, too?”
Viv hesitated. “First, let me say that everything I did was to protect you.”
Merry dropped her hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Secondly, there’s no time for panic or recriminations. I have to be in Auckland by ten when Ross and Charlie are due to drop Tilly home.”
“Tell me!”
Viv took a deep breath. Maybe if she said it fast. “I met Ross arriving at Linda’s and he thought I was you and he was so hostile that I went along with it to show him you couldn’t be bullied. And then the accident happened and I fainted and when I came to, Ross had already told the cops I was Meredith Coltrane.”
Her twin gasped.
“And all I could think was how panicked you were about Charlie finding out you’d interviewed for a job out of town so I—” Viv sucked in air.
“Lied to the police!”
“Didn’t correct the misunderstanding.” She pinned her twin’s gaze. “And it worked. I bought us time to get you transferred to Auckland Hospital and come up with a cover story.”
Merry bit her lip. “Go on.”
“Unfortunately there isn’t an ambulance available for elective private transfer and the hospital won’t consider the backseat of your car as an alternative. But—”
A bitter laugh interrupted her. “I thought telling Charlie I was considering relocating was going to be difficult, but telling him my twin was pretending to be me, a nurse, when his mother needed saving—”
“No one could have saved her, Merry, not even you,” Viv said sharply. “You think I planned any of this? That I’m having fun here? Let me tell you how my hell day ended, Miss Ungrateful. I looked after your toddler and ate organic baby food for dinner because I used all the steaks to placate your mad dog. When Harry finally settled I packed you a bag—” she kicked it “—and tried to organize an ambulance, then had a rental delivered so I could drive here in the middle of the night.”
The baby stirred in his car seat. Leaning forward she added in an accusing hiss, “Perhaps I wouldn’t have felt such an overwhelming need to protect you if you’d just mentioned that you were the adulterer, not Charlie.” Merry pulled the sheet over her head.
“Damn right. Hide your face, lady!” For long seconds there was only the sound of her own breathing as Viv struggled to control her temper, and Harry’s soft snores. Then she heard faint sobbing from under the covers.
Viv sighed. “Mere, come out.”
Nothing moved.
Viv tugged back the thin bedspread and sheet and her sister covered her eyes with a slender arm. “I’m so ashamed,” she wept.
“Oh, honey.” Pity dissolved her anger. “Does anyone in the family know?”
“Only our brother.” Merry struggled to compose herself. “Ross told Dan.” Which figured, the two men were former troop mates and it was through their friendship that Merry first met Charlie.
But Viv was in no mood to be fair. “Bloody Ross Coltrane.” She handed her sister a box of tissues. “Why can’t he mind his own business?” Aware her sister was barely coping, she kept his ultimatum to herself. “But don’t worry, I have another plan.”
Her twin gave a strangled laugh. “Of course you do.” She blotted her wet cheeks. “God, I am so sick of being a crybaby. I was coping until Charlie started dating Harry’s day-care teacher. I guess I still believed he’d forgive me.” Her composure crumbled.
“Here.” Unzipping the baby bag, Viv handed her sister a take-out coffee and pulled out her own, along with a couple of chocolate-filled brioches. “Real food, real coffee. Not that chicory crap you have in the pantry. So. Were you in love with this other guy?” Charlie had been Merry’s one and only; she wouldn’t have betrayed him lightly.
“Luke? No!” Merry swallowed. “But…he thinks he’s in love with me.”
“Naturally,” said Viv. “We’re irresistible. It’s our curse.” She was still trying not to be hurt by her twin’s secrecy. They’d never been close, but they phoned every couple of weeks and Viv always pretended her sister’s domesticity was interesting just like Merry pretended Viv’s work was important. Except it appeared domesticity was interesting.
“We never had sex,” Merry said hastily. “There was only one kiss.”
Viv frowned. “So who kissed what, exactly?”
For a moment, Merry stared uncomprehending, then blushed a fiery red. “Lips. We kissed lips…. Your mind, Viv!”
“C’mon, Mere, even a stick-in-the-mud like Charlie wouldn’t leave over a kiss.”
“What do you mean, even a stick-in-the-mud like Charlie?”
“Nothing. Your marriage always seemed so happy.” In a stage version of their marriage, Viv would have dressed Merry as a smiling 1950s housewife and given her brother-in-law a pipe and slippers to go with his smug expression.
“It was. But you can’t imagine how routine kills romance.”
“Oh, yes, I can. It’s not dumb luck I haven’t got hitched. Losing your identity to a couple. It’s bad enough being—” Viv took a sip of her coffee.
“An identical twin,” Merry finished flatly.
Viv dodged the bullet. “Brought up by unhappily married parents.”
“Except our trouble was that Charlie and I weren’t a couple anymore. We were parents, churchgoers, workers. I was a part-time nurse and full-time soccer mum. Our conversations revolved around kid pickups, clean laundry and what’s for dinner? I suggested date nights and Charlie said we were already overscheduled. And didn’t b
eing married mean we could quit trying so hard?” Merry gave a small laugh. “I said I needed more intimacy and he thought that meant more sex. Even sex was becoming a chore…another thing to do before I could go to sleep.”
Speaking of sleep. Viv glanced at Harry, then her watch. He hadn’t settled until ten last night but at some point she’d have to wake him or he wouldn’t nap on the drive home. Why did babies have to be so complicated? She’d found a daily blog by a mother who chronicled her toddler’s every waking moment from bowel movements to teething to diet. And the woman had been almost hysterical with joy when Viv posted a question. It was like being dragged into a cult.
“Tell me about this Luke.” She needed to understand the emotional landscape to pull off Plan B.
“He was a colleague—a doctor—who became a friend. When our shifts coincided we’d lunch together in the staff canteen or later at a little deli a block away from the hospital. At the beginning there was a few of us, then gradually…” Merry began picking at her nails, cut short, unpolished, the nails of someone who never had time for small vanities.
“I knew I was skirting a line,” she continued, “but I thought Luke understood there was a line—that we were friends who flirted. When he kissed me, I could no longer pretend our lunches were innocent. I felt so guilty, so ashamed. I went home and told Charlie everything.”
Harry woke up, saw his mother and clamored to get into bed with her. Viv positioned him next to Merry’s good leg. Half-asleep, Harry cuddled against her with his blankie, sucking his thumb and looking the angel Viv had already learned he wasn’t.
“You named him after Houdini, didn’t you?”
“What?”
“Never mind. How did Charlie react to the confession?” As if she couldn’t guess.
“Angry.” Merry swallowed. “And so hurt. He knew those lunches constituted more intimacy for me than crazy monkey sex. He stormed off to Ross’s, and moved into his mother’s house a week later.”
“You mean that was it?” Harry started to squirm in his mother’s hold and Viv grabbed him off the bed before he could do any damage, distracting him with her half-eaten brioche. “What about when he calmed down?”
