“Billie, we can’t dance now. There’s no music.”
“Not dance dance…dance.”
A few months ago, maybe. But not tonight.“Go to sleep,” I said.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
Tucking Billie in, I could smell her perfume. I kissed her on the forehead and closed the door to my room.
Returning to the couch, I looked at the urn. “I think this was supposed to be a lot easier,” I said.
I laid down on the couch with the blanket Diane liked to cuddle with. It was too short for me. If it covered my toes, my shoulder was exposed. If I covered my shoulder, I couldn’t scrunch into a small enough ball without getting leg cramps. So, I rolled onto my back and tried to forget about it.
Sometime during the night, as I battled the blanket from shoulders to toes, I thought I felt a kiss on my eyelids. When I got up in the morning, Billie was gone.
During the night, I’d had yet another dream about Diane’s suitcase. The next morning, I decided to check it out again, dumping its contents onto my bed. Inside, there was a shirt, a hat, a photo, a deck of cards no secret compartment and no new information. I picked up the broken thermos and tossed it into the suitcase. It bounced off and roll-clanked across the floor to the door where Spring stood. She picked it up and shook it.
“It’s broken,” I said.
“The key is broken?”
“Key?”
“Mommy had a key in there.”
I opened the thermos. The clanking I had heard since finding the thing was from a key partially wrapped in a sock.
“That one,” Spring said, pointing.
There were no markings on the key to identify what it went to; just the number 4642. It obviously didn’t fit a house or car. It looked like an aluminum skeleton key and I could bend it if I wanted, but thought best not to.
This wasn’t a hidden drawer, but it was certainly more than I had yesterday not that I had any idea what to do with it.
Chapter 11
I’m Always Lucky
A couple of days later, I went back to work. I simply couldn’t stay at home anymore. I believe it’s a common feeling for people to think their worth comes from their job, and unfortunately, it did for me at least until I made enough money for that fabulous early retirement. Now, I just wanted back in before I was pushed out for good. I just wanted to return to normal without Billie “stomping on my fires.” And I thought it would be good for Spring to get back to her routine again.
I’d tried Stephanie Eckleburg’s approach to healing, but after a few weeks, we needed love and routine for both of us. You can only be stuck in neutral for so long, especially when you’re in the middle of a busy intersection. I truly didn’t think that either of us would get any further along, if we didn’t get back to some semblance of a normal life.
We had the beginnings of a home routine that involved my getting up and Spring trailing close behind wearing her inside-out robe. At Spring’s age, it didn’t matter which way she wore her robe and frequently, she wore it this way. It was cute. So, we would sit in our robes, I would drink coffee and Spring her juice. We had even expanded our breakfast repertoire to include raspberry Pop-Tarts. Despite the fat grams and other nutritional devils, I had forgotten how tasty they were. Diane would have preferred granola, or just about anything else.
Dressing Spring still involved some challenges. If she had decided to wear anything more elaborate than jeans and a shirt, I sometimes became confused trying to mix and match hair accessories to outfits. I tried to let her pick out most of her clothes and coach her into attending to most of her own personal hygiene, like brushing her hair, which we now brushed only after breakfast.
We were doing pretty well together. She’d had a few tantrums, but after reading up on them, I realized that every kid had them. I had spent my career being proactive in preventing problems. With Spring, I had to learn to endure them.
When I dropped Spring off at daycare on her first day back, I said hi to Stephanie and Mr. Barnes. He said crossing through the daycare was a shortcut into the building, but I think he had a thing for Mrs. Eckleburg. He smiled at me and said hi to Spring. He seemed to genuinely like kids, though I knew he didn’t have any of his own, probably deciding that he couldn’t be a business scion and a real dad. As I left to go to the office, that logic suddenly made all kinds of sense to me.
Sitting at my desk after being gone for a couple of weeks, I was shocked at how clean it was. Billie had stomped all the work right out of my office and had left me with little to start with.
“Dylan,” Mr. Mason said, entering my office. “It hasn’t been a month. I didn’t expect to see you again until after Thanksgiving.”
“Thanks, but I couldn’t do it. I wanted to get back to the office and get Spring into her normal routine again.”
“How is she?”
“Here, I brought a new picture of her.”
She had a big smile on her face. She was pretty adorable when she wasn’t screaming.
“She looks good, Dylan. I bet you’re doing a nice job with her. Without you, there’s no telling where she’d be now. That goddamned Family Services would have her in with the Mansons by now, I imagine… and with ten other kids.”
“Probably.”
“Glad to have you in the fold again. Get with Billie on the details first thing. Now that you’re back, let’s check on how things are lining up for the new year.” He stood to leave. “You look good, Dylan. I was worried about you, but you seem like you’re okay.”
As Mr. Mason left, he was almost mowed down by three women coming to welcome me. I had flirted with each of them before meeting Diane, but it had been a while. They were happy to have me in the office again and if I “needed help with the girl,” they’d be glad to come by.
Then Laurel stuck her head in. “Hi, Dylan.”
“Laurel,” I said. She was all cleavage and miniskirt. “I’ve been thinking about you. I just found a present from you. It wound up in a towel.” Spring had somehow found Laurel’s panties in our latest load of laundry. I have no idea how they got into the laundry basket after all this time. That was a lifetime ago.
“Oh. Maybe I can come by and get them one of these nights, or you could bring them to work…in a brown paper bag.”
If Laurel came by, it meant she’d be after the next bottle of wine on the list and perhaps, if I was lucky, I’d have new presents to find before Spring did. Although, I wasn’t sure whether I could explain another thong or any other anonymous garment.
“That would be nice,” I said. My mouth started up with its old tricks of its own accord. Maybe my mouth’s right, I thought. Maybe I do need to get with Laurel again? Nothing excessive, perhaps dinner just to get back into my routine.
“When?”
Laurel was just as aggressive as she had been on our first night.
“Tomorrow night?” I said. It dawned on me that I couldn’t simply do this. “Wait, before you say yes or no, let me check on a sitter first.”
“You check. If you can get one, we’re on for tomorrow.” Laurel’s blond hair fell across her cheek.
“Deal.” I smiled and she left, narrowly missing Billie as she entered. I could hear them exchanging small talk in the hall.
“I heard you were here. What was that all about?” Billie said, closing my door and nodding in the direction that Laurel had left.
“Nothing, why?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I know. Mason said we should go over the account stuff.”
“No. I need to talk about things.”
“Things?”
“Yeah.” She tilted her head the way she always did when she was getting serious. “Sorry I haven’t called the last couple of days. I wanted to do this in person, but then I couldn’t get myself over to your place.”
This could not be good. Billie never offered a preamble.
“Look, D-Man, Spring is a great kid, but she’s a little too real, if you know w
hat I mean.”
“I can honestly say that I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Billie wrinkled her nose. “Kiddie movies, bedtime stories and eyes under the table are entertaining every once in a while.”
“I’m still not with you.”
“Let’s be honest, D-Man. You and I didn’t hook up the last time I came over because Spring was in the other room, right?”
It took me a second to replay the scenario. “We didn’t hook up because you were wasted.”
“Like that’s stopped you before.”
I felt offended. “It has never been like that with you and me.”
“That’s your story and you’re sticking to it, huh?”
I looked at her as though she were speaking in reverse.
She shook her head quickly. “That’s all beside the point, anyway. Listen, D-Man, I don’t do domestic and things are pretty damned domestic at your place these days.”
“Am I supposed to be apologizing?”
“No apology necessary. It’s just that things were getting kind of regular with you, me, and the kid, and I’m just saying that you shouldn’t count me in. I can help out, bring you guys food or movies, or…I don’t know, toys. But you can’t count on me to…”
“To what?”
“To do anything. You just can’t count on me.”
By our having this conversation, we were giving the subject more attention than it needed. “I understand. And I don’t know how long this is going to last anyway. I have a new clue in the mystery, though I haven’t figured out what to do with it yet.”
There was a knock on the door. I thought it might be Mason. “Yes?”
“Hey.” It was Laurel. “I have to get my hair done after work and since I have to be in your area, maybe I could bring some food by? Maybe seven-ish? This way you don’t have to worry about a sitter…”
“Sure.”
“See you tonight.” Laurel smiled and closed the door.
Billie waited a beat just to let me know that she’d noticed and then continued.
“You’re still looking for clues?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know that I can do this for the long run. There are times when I think I can and I’d be lying if I didn’t say that Spring has gotten to me. But really, me and a kid… forever? I need to get to work on finding somebody for Spring.”
Billie nodded. She didn’t seem convinced. Or maybe it was me who wasn’t convinced. Anyway, this wasn’t her primary concern.
“So we’re cool about this?” she said.
“Utterly cool.”
“Good. By the way, Spring showed me your prairie dog impression. Cute. Do it for me?”
“Right.”
The rest of the day brought attention I had never anticipated. I’d planned to keep my door closed all day just trying to dig my way out of the pile had there been one and staring out the window for breaks. But instead, as soon as my door would close, I would receive a knock followed by another female visitor, volunteering to bring by food or help if she could with Spring. Billie came by three times to update me on something, but I wondered if she was just curious about the other women. Laurel stuck her head in once just to wink. Other than this, nothing at work was any different.
When I arrived at the daycare, Spring was already seated on the desk laughing with Mr. Barnes, who carried his coat and briefcase, and Stephanie.
“Did I get here too late?” I said, making my way to Mr. Barnes and shaking his hand.
“Dylan, good to see you. It looks like little Spring is doing well. She’s been imitating a penguin. Said you like to take her to the zoo.”
Spring pulled her arms in, smiled at me, and then waddled around the room. Her performance was oddly reminiscent of my best prairie dog impression: first sticking her tongue out, then twisting her head from side to side. With her eyes half closed, she resembled a sleepy penguin waking up and looking for his New York Times. When she imitated me, she was funny.
Mr. Barnes smiled. “Dylan, you have a wonderful little girl. Yes, you are,” he said, addressing Spring and then growling like a high-pitched penguin. “Rrrrrruff. What kind of noises do penguins make?”
Stephanie interrupted. She wasn’t smiling. “Mr. Hunter, Spring says you let her draw on the walls at home. Is this true?”
I felt as though I was about to be grounded. “Not really. I have paper on the walls in various parts of the apartment, so Spring can express her creativity when the mood calls. If you know artists, then you understand how persnickety creativity can be. Look at Salvador Dali…”
“Mr. Hunter, I respect your appreciation of Mr. Dali’s art. However, we are not talking about Mr. Dali. We are talking about the discipline of a young girl armed with crayons.”
“Dylan, you and Mrs. Eckleburg need to talk, and I have an appointment,” Mr. Barnes said. “Goodbye. Bye, Spring.” He slipped out.
Spring waved goodbye to Mr. Barnes, leaving me alone and unarmed.
“As I was saying,” Stephanie continued, “Spring is too young to distinguish between drawing on the paper at home and drawing on our walls here. It will take at least an hour to remove a certain young lady’s artwork from our foyer.”
“But…”
“Mr. Hunter, she is too young to discriminate between walls with or without paper. If you would please remove the paper at home, or at least confine it to a specified area, that would be a big help.”
“Yes…”
“Is this agreeable?”
“Yes, Ma’am.” I reached my hand out for Spring. “Say bye, Spring.”
Spring waved at the stern woman. Stephanie waved back, but her eyes narrowed when she looked up at me again.
We slipped outside. It didn’t dawn on me to tell Stephanie that she had no right to talk to me this way until we were already on the street. It was probably just as well. At Mason Brand, I could get pretty surly when a client tried to intimidate me and it wouldn’t be in Spring’s best interests for me to act that way here.
“Is she always like that?” I asked Spring as we started walking.
“No. Sometimes she eats peanuts.”
“Peanuts?”
She nodded.
“Now we know what to get her for Christmas.”
I wondered if I bought them now, if they would go slightly rancid by the time Stephanie ate them; not rancid enough that she could tell, but just enough that they wouldn’t go down particularly well. It was good to see that I was maturing.
Spring was obviously thinking something else entirely.
“D, how many days to Christmas?”
“I don’t know, Spring. How about if we count them when we get home?”
“D, will Mom…” Spring stopped. “Will Santa find me since I’m in New York?”
When Spring changed from Mom to Santa, I realized that, although I had experienced a day filled with activity and a semblance of normalcy, she had not. Of course she still wondered about Diane and why her mother hadn’t come home. She had all the time in the day and night to wonder about her mother.
“Santa knows where you are. I hear he vacations just along the coast in Cape Cod. He knows the area really well.”
“Cape Cod…?”
“You’d like it. Maybe we’ll go sometime?”
“D?”
“Yes.”
“If Santa knows where I live, does he know where Mommy is?”
Tough question. Logic says yes, he knows where Diane is. But how do I address the follow-up question? “I think so, Spring.”
She reflected on the subject. “I bet she’s at the zoo. She likes the zoo. Can we go to the zoo, D?”
“Not tonight. But we can go soon. It’s just about time for snow. Would you like to see the zoo when it snows?”
“Yeah.”
She wasn’t satisfied, but I needed to change the subject in order to prepare her for this evening.
“Spring, tonight we have dinner company.”
“Billie?�
��
“No, not Billie, but another friend of mine. Her name is Laurel.”
Spring frowned.
“When is Billie going to come over?”
“I’m not sure. Billie is a busy woman. She works a lot. Tonight, Laurel is coming by.”
She didn’t say anything.
“You’ll like her. You met her before, at the office. Do you remember?”
“No.”
“She wants to come by to see us. And she’s bringing food.”
“She’ll probably bring squid.”
“She won’t bring squid. Spring, Laurel is a good friend of mine.”
“What about Billie?”
“She’s a good friend, too.”
“Why doesn’t she come over tonight?”
“She has to work.”
“Why?”
“Please, Spring? Will you be good to Laurel?”
She wouldn’t commit.
“Please?”
I didn’t get much out of her on the way home, but I hadn’t expected much. Once she heard that Billie was not the intended dinner partner, disappointment spoiled the trip. In one way, it was good to hear that Spring liked Billie. But in another way, I didn’t want her to get attached to someone who had expressed what Billie had expressed to me earlier. Not to mention that I still had no idea how long this situation was going to last. I had managed to put off any further detective work for yet another day, but I was committed to doing it. I had to figure out what the key in the thermos did.
When Laurel knocked at the door, Spring took particular interest in answering.
“Hello.”
Spring tipped her head and stood in the doorway.
“May I come in?”
“Why?”
She had answered the door wearing her Groucho nose and glasses, and stood there staring at Laurel. I hadn’t noticed the disguise until after Laurel followed her inside.
“Hi, wow, you look great, like usual,” I said, taking Laurel’s jacket. “Do you remember Groucho from the office?”
Laurel handed a bag to me and looked down at Spring. “Hello, Groucho. Do you remember me? We met at Dylan’s office.”
Spring raised an eyebrow and waved come on to Laurel, leading both of us to the kitchen. Laurel did look great. She could wear duct tape and look sexy. When she leaned to kiss my cheek, I could feel her breasts press into my arm and I backed away.
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