They didn’t stop until they reached the round tower room at the north end of the house.
He opened the door, revealing a beautiful, spacious sitting room, its round stone walls set with ceiling-to-floor windows. It would be flooded with light on a sunny winter afternoon.
“I’m thinking I’ll take the furniture out and make this room the big top,” he said. “I’ll cover the walls with life-size drawings of carousel animals—horses and swans and elephants. Jeannie loves elephants. I can sketch them on those rolls of newsprint I’ve ordered, and we can paint them in Jeannie’s favorite colors.”
Beth nodded. She had no idea what Jeannie’s favorite colors were, but she didn’t want to interrupt his enthusiasm.
He moved to the center of the room and waved his good hand toward the ceiling. “Streamers all the way across, all different colors, meeting in the center, coming to a point like a tent.”
“Perfect,” she said. She turned slowly in a circle, checking out the possibilities. “Lots of balloons, too. Caliope music, I think…and maybe a popcorn cart off to the side. A trapeze hanging from the ceiling. And you’ll be dressed as the ringmaster, of course.”
“Of course! I’ve already bought a top hat and red silk tails.” He shook his head. “You’d be surprised how hard they are to find these days. The salesman at Yuppie Brothers was really quite rude.”
They both laughed, the sound echoing like music against the thick stone tower walls. In his carrier at her feet, Daniel stirred. But happy noises didn’t trouble his dreams, and he settled right back into sleep.
She looked up to see Scott watching her. “Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“For agreeing to help me. For being willing to share my vision. For being able to. You’re going to be much more than a pair of hands to work the scissors. You have such a vivid imagination.”
She smiled, trying not to let the compliment matter so much. “Sometimes maybe too vivid. When your imagination works overtime, it’s as easy to invent problems as it is to invent carousel horses and tumbling clowns.”
His expression sobered.
Darn it. That was too personal. She wished she had bitten her tongue. Like an idiot, she had ruined the mood. If she was going to be such a downer, he’d quickly regret including her in the party.
“You’re talking about the agoraphobia, aren’t you?” He frowned. “Tilly told me about it. I hope you don’t mind.”
She lifted her chin. “Of course not. I expected her to tell you. Obviously you had to know everything about me if you were going to let me rent the apartment.”
He didn’t contradict her. “And as I understand it, the real problem with these panic attacks is the fear. They don’t really hurt you by themselves. It’s just that, because you’re afraid you’ll have one, you are uncomfortable going places where you don’t feel safe.”
She nodded. He must have read up on this. Most people had no idea what agoraphobia was all about. Maybe he’d wanted to be sure it didn’t mean she was crazy.
But that wasn’t fair, and she knew it. His tone wasn’t at all judgmental. It expressed only a normal curiosity, and something that felt like genuine concern.
“Do you feel safe here? Will it bother you to work inside the house? I know the last time you came, you didn’t want to—”
“No, it’s okay,” she said, gruff again in spite of herself. “I’ll be all right.”
She hoped it was true. She had committed to helping him, and she didn’t want to fail. But somehow she didn’t think she would. She liked this house.
“Honestly, I’m not quite sure why—ordinarily new places are…difficult. But here…” She looked around, as if the walls could speak and tell her their secrets. “I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t understand it myself.”
“It’s a good house,” he said. “It’s one of the few things I bothered to fight for in the divorce. I’m the fourth-generation Mulvaney to live here. Jeannie will be the fifth. My father always taught me that structures have personalities, and I believe it, no matter what people say. This house has happy vibes.”
“Yes, it does. Just wait and see. It will make a marvelous circus.”
He nodded slowly. “You really can see it, can’t you?”
“Oh, yes,” she said. The laughing children danced across her inward vision already…dressed as rainbowed clowns, spangled trapeze artists and bareback ballerinas. They clumsily juggled colored balls, and twisted balloons into animal shapes, and sat very still while a gypsy painted little unicorns on their cheeks.
“Of course I can see it. It will be fantastic, Scott. The party every little girl dreams of.”
“Good,” he said. He pointed toward the dining room. “Then bring those wonderful hands of yours, and let’s get started.”
CHAPTER
FOUR
What was that line her mother used to say all the time? Something about excessive pride. Something about a painful fall.
Beth stood at the door of the party store early the next morning, trying to remember the exact words of the quote. It seemed important somehow. She almost believed that if she could remember the quote exactly, she might be able to enter the store.
“Excuse me? Young lady? Are you going in?”
Beth looked over her shoulder. A woman with silvery-blue hair and a strangely unlined, baby-soft face stood right behind her, looking annoyed.
That’s when Beth realized she was blocking the doorway. She backed up awkwardly.
“No. No, I’m sorry. You go ahead.”
The woman did so, letting out a little sigh, just to be sure Beth understood how inconvenienced she’d been. Beth smelled the woman’s perfume as she flounced by. The sweet, powdery scent of Bal à Versailles.
Tony had bought Beth a bottle of that perfume one Valentine’s Day, back when they still had the occasional happy time interspersed among the bad.
But he’d broken her nose that night—for flirting with the waiter at dinner, he said. She’d never worn the perfume again. The pretty square bottle with its filigreed stopper was probably still at Tony’s house, quietly going stale in the medicine cabinet.
Unless he’d given it to his new girlfriend. Beth wondered if she should call his house someday, just to see if a woman answered. If she heard a female voice, what would Beth say? How could she warn the woman?
Tony had probably already laid the groundwork, mentioning casually to his new girlfriend that his old girlfriend, her name was Beth, had been unstable.
That she imagined things.
Things like the odd splintering sound her nose made when it broke, and the bloody stars that exploded behind her eyes…
So what could Beth say? Even if she just whispered one word…just the word run…even then the woman would tell Tony, and he’d kiss her neck, and they’d laugh together about poor crazy Beth.
Maybe she was crazy. Look at her now, standing outside the party store, having taken two buses and forty minutes to get here but suddenly unable to put out her shaking hand and open that big glass door.
“Honey? Are you all right?”
This time it was a middle-aged woman, a nice woman. A woman with gentle eyes and about twenty extra pounds that said she liked to sit on the sofa at night, watching ball games she didn’t care about on TV, just so that she could be with her husband.
Maybe Beth could ask her for help. Maybe the woman would hold Beth’s hand and take her inside the store. Maybe, with this kind person beside her, Beth’s pulse would stop racing, and her lungs would thaw, and she would be able to breathe again.
But she couldn’t tell a perfect stranger her problems. That really was the kind of thing crazy people did.
“I’m fine,” Beth said. “I’m just feeling a little faint. I just needed to rest for a second.”
The woman glanced worriedly down at Daniel’s stroller, where Beth had settled his carrier. He was awake, propped up against the blue-checked gingham padding, but tilted slightly
to one side, because the ruffle had caught his attention.
“Do you need me to call someone?”
Beth shook her head. “No, honestly, I’ll be fine. Don’t let me keep you.”
The woman squatted down and looked at Daniel more closely. Beth knew what she was thinking. If the mom was a little weird, was the baby okay?
But Daniel was fine, of course. No matter what else happened, Beth never neglected her son. She wanted to tell the woman that, but she knew that it would seem overly defensive, weird in its own right.
She would let Daniel speak for himself, which he did. When he noticed the lady staring at him, he squealed with delight, reaching out his two fat hands to grab her cheeks.
The woman smiled. Of course she did. Everyone smiled at Daniel. She straightened up and gave Beth a sympathetic nod.
“I know it’s hard when they’re so little,” the woman said. “You think you’ll never get a good night’s sleep again. But you will, honey. He’ll be grown up before you know it, so try to enjoy him, okay?”
“Yes, of course. Okay. I will.”
Finally, the woman went inside. Beth took two stumbling steps backward and leaned against the shopping center wall, trying to catch her breath.
Through the bright window of the store, she could see giant bouquets of helium balloons that bumped against the ceiling, trailing multicolored ribbons. She saw life-size cutouts of Darth Vadar and Cinderella and the cowboy from Toy Story.
And she saw a dozen people or more, all comfortably wheeling carts up and down aisles of blue-flowered birthday plates and pink piñatas and metallic banners that cried “Congratulations!” or “Over the Hill!”
As if protected by some magic spell of normalcy, they wandered those aisles at will, without even the mildest elevation of temperature, without the slightest acceleration of heart rate.
They could do it.
Why couldn’t she?
Yesterday, she had felt so strong. Yesterday, she had been the conquering hero, battling any monster that dared to show its face. Fear? Defeated. Panic? Vanquished. Shyness? Annihilated.
She’d been so proud of herself. She and Scott had worked at his dining room table until almost midnight, finishing three of the twelve carousel animals—a flop-eared bunny, a pink-and-silver pony and an elephant that looked just like Dumbo, Jeannie’s favorite Disney character.
So, yes, she had been proud. And happy. Almost drunk with it. It wasn’t until Daniel finally woke up, demanding a warm bottle and a dry diaper, that she’d even noticed how much time had passed.
Maybe that was the problem—she’d been high on her own successes, blowing them out of proportion, believing they meant she was stronger than she was.
Tilly had always cautioned that moderation was the key to true happiness.
There had been no moderation last night.
She still couldn’t remember the whole quote. Something about pride going before a fall. Her mother used to say it when Beth was a teenager, rebelling against her father’s alcoholic version of “authority.”
Her mother who had no pride, who always bowed down before her father’s temper, like a human sacrifice before a ravenous beast.
Beth hadn’t ever been able to make her mother see the truth. The bowing down hadn’t made the beast less angry. It only whetted its appetite for more. More submission. More deference. More sacrifice.
Somehow, walking through that door right now would be like proving something to her mother, even after all these years. It would prove that it was better to be brave. It would prove that pride wasn’t a bad thing. That standing up for yourself might be dangerous, but it wasn’t as dangerous as lying down and being run over.
She wanted to prove those things. But she couldn’t.
And so she turned the stroller around and walked back toward the bus stop.
THE COST OF THAT MORNING’S disastrous trip to the party store was still being paid late in the afternoon.
By the time she trudged up to the apartment from the bus stop, she was hungry, discouraged and drained, both physically and emotionally. And way behind on her day’s work.
The company that employed her demanded that its work-from-home employees meet a quota each day, a certain number of claims to process, a certain number of diagnosis and procedure codes, patient information and payout amounts to enter.
The workload was serious—about a hundred and twenty-five claims a day—but ordinarily she had no real problem. Luckily, Daniel was an independent baby who was perfectly content to sit in his playpen at her side, playing with his own toys—and his own toes—while Mommy worked.
Not today, though. It was as if he’d caught her malaise, and he fussed all afternoon, until she had to put him in her lap and begin typing one-handed.
By six o’clock, he’d finally fallen asleep over her shoulder, and she was whipped. She clicked her monitor off and rubbed her eyes, which had focused on the computer so long they were stinging.
She ought to put Daniel in his crib and maybe lie down awhile before dinner. But she was too tired to move. She just sat there, staring out the window, soothed by the orderly charm of the winter garden.
The snow had mostly thawed now, but the remaining isolated patches sparkled in the sun like diamond anthills. The brick path that wound from the garage to the main house gleamed wetly, as if washed by the melting runoff.
Suddenly, she heard the dull rumble of approaching cars. She knew that Scott was in Boston for the day on business and wasn’t expected back until after dark. She leaned forward to see if she could tell who it was.
It was not just one car, but two. She recognized the first one, the white minivan from the center that Tilly Argent always drove.
But the second…
She knew that car.
It was the cute blue compact sedan she’d seen at the used car lot. The one she’d wanted to buy.
But the loan had fallen through. Her credit history…her brand-new job…her lack of references…
What was that car doing here now?
Both cars came to a stop just outside the garage, just below her window. Tilly jumped out of the minivan with her usual vigor. Audra Gilmore climbed out of the Chevy.
Had Audra bought the car? Beth bit back a twinge of envy. But Audra had put in the time, paid her dues, built good credit. If she owned that car now, it was because she deserved it. Someday Beth would have one, too. She had to cling to that hope, and not let the jealousy monster take over.
Beth waved at the women from the window and motioned them up, glad to see them even if it meant abandoning all hope of a nap. Tilly always made her feel better.
But Tilly shook her head and waved back, clearly indicating that she wanted Beth to come down.
Beth placed Daniel carefully in his crib, slipped the monitor in her pocket, and eased herself out the front door and down the stairs.
They all exchanged hugs, and then, as usual, Tilly got right to the point.
“I can’t stay,” she said briskly. “But we had a surprise for you, and we couldn’t wait to show you.” She touched the hood of the Chevy. “Your chariot, my lady?”
“For me?” Beth shook her head. “How? They turned me down. I don’t have enough credit, and—”
“You don’t,” Tilly said, smiling. “But we do.”
Beth frowned. “What?”
Audra laughed. “You look like you’ve been slugged with a brick. It’s not that complicated. Tilly co-signed for you.”
Beth turned her dazed gaze to Tilly.
“That’s right,” Tilly said. “I don’t have the best credit in the world myself. I’m always spending more than I have. But apparently, between us, we have enough. It’s yours, Beth.” She patted the hood of the car affectionately. “And so are the payments.”
“But—”
“Now, honey,” Audra put in with a smile, “haven’t you learned yet how pointless it is to argue with the Queen?” She held out her hand. Two silver keys dangled from a ring a
round her index finger. “Here you go. It drives like a dream.”
“No,” Beth said automatically. “No, I couldn’t possibly—”
“Of course you could,” Tilly said. She took the keys from Audra’s outstretched hand and pressed them firmly into Beth’s numb palm. “You’re a good driver. And you’re making enough to make the payments, plus gas and insurance, which was a very real consideration. We already talked to Scott, and he said you can keep it in the garage.”
She ran her hand across the shiny hood. “Pretty, isn’t she? She’s about five years old, but she has only fifty thousand miles on her. The mechanic said she’s in excellent condition.”
Beth just kept shaking her head. “This isn’t right. Tilly, you can’t take on any risk—”
“There’s no risk,” Tilly said, her voice clipped. “You’ll make the payments. As soon as you get by the lot to sign the new papers, the car is yours.”
“But, Tilly…”
She allowed herself to get close enough to look in the window. Blue cloth seat covers, a CD player…and even a baby car seat!
Everything would be so much easier in a car. Getting Daniel to the doctor. Making visits to the clinic.
And it was such a beautiful car. It reminded Beth of her teenage years, when she’d worked at the fast-food hamburger place, saving up to buy her own car. She’d never made it. The last time her father had hurt her, breaking a finger and fracturing her wrist on the night of her eighteenth birthday, she’d packed her clothes and moved in with Tony.
Talk about the frying pan and the fire. She never had another penny to call her own. Tony was ambitious, a time-share salesman who believed appearances were everything. After that, every penny either of them could make went to pay half the rent on a stylish apartment neither of them could afford, and a wardrobe to help Tony keep up with the “big boys” at work.
And Tony’s cocaine habit, of course—though she hadn’t realized it until it was too late. Not until she’d spent four years having her self-confidence shredded.
Not until she was already pregnant with Daniel.
More Than Words Volume 4 Page 34
