by Nicola Marsh
“You’ve got typical working mom guilt. Don’t let it bother you. You’re a great mom.” I gesture at the girls. “Luna’s well-adjusted and happy, so you’re doing okay.”
She smiles in gratitude and I’m glad she appears more engaged. “Do you work, Celeste?”
“Yeah. I’m a freelance accountant. I do the books remotely for a few companies in Manhattan, long-standing clients.”
“Do you enjoy it?”
“It pays the bills.” And allows me to be home with Vi, something I’m eternally grateful for. “Do you like lifestyle vlogging?”
“I used to love it.” She sighs.
“Used to?”
“We all have bad days, right?” She’s fiddling with the hem of her top, plucking absentmindedly at a loose string, lost in her thoughts. “Imagine how you feel on your crappiest day, then imagine having to put on make-up and the perfect outfit and smile until your face aches because that’s what people expect of you.”
I’m not sure if she’ll like my first thought but I say it anyway. “Why don’t you stop?”
“Because it pays too well and I’m afraid if I do…” She trails off, gnawing at her bottom lip.
“What?”
“That I’ll go back to being a nobody…”
She speaks so softly I wonder if I’ve heard correctly. I don’t know her well enough to ask why she sounds forlorn. Ironic, how she portrays perfection online but seems so sad about her job when the camera turns off. It makes me like her a little more, normalizes her in a way.
I’m glad she’s opening up to me. “Is that so bad?”
“I suppose not.” She shrugs. “I’m just exhausted.” She takes a breath and blows it out, and it’s as if a weight has lifted off her. Either that, or she’s a great actress, as her smile appears genuine. “Don’t mind me. I didn’t sleep well and I’ve been in this weird funk all morning because I’ve got a lot of subscriber comments to respond to.” She waves a hand between us as if she’s shooing away her problems. “I’ll be fine.”
“If it makes it easier on you, I’m happy to take Luna off your hands. Have her over for a few hours at my place later this afternoon?” I point to the girls. “Vi loves having a new friend and the girls get on well. So if you want a break, I’m not far.”
She smiles. “Thanks, Celeste, I appreciate the offer.” She’s staring at me like she’s seeing me for the first time.
“Is Andre home today?”
She stiffens and her eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “Why?”
“I need some muscle to help me move an old trunk in my bedroom. It was there when I arrived and it’s taking up too much room.” I flex my arm and poke at my bicep. “And as you can see from this pathetic excuse for a muscle, I need all the help I can get.”
“He’s out at the moment but I’ll send him over when he gets home.” Her tone is friendly, but rather than continue the conversation she returns to staring at the girls and I wonder if I upset her. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought up Andre. But I don’t get it. Surely she can’t be jealous of me? She’s gorgeous, whereas I’m… washed out, as Roland had told me before things ended, one of his least nasty insults.
“Frankie?”
“Yeah?” she replies, her eyes fixed on her daughter.
“Friends don’t betray each other and I’m hoping that’s what we can be, friends.”
It’s my roundabout way of saying she has nothing to worry about with Andre and me, and after a long pause, she gives a nod.
“Sure, I’d like that.”
I’m not sure how sincere her response is, but for now, it’s enough.
Fifteen
Saylor
Lloyd is grocery shopping and I’m sitting by the living room window when I see Celeste and Frankie in the park. Their girls are playing but the women’s postures are off. They’re not facing each other. Instead, they’re sitting side by side and only talking occasionally. It’s weird. If I sat next to someone on a park bench I’d half turn to face them, not look straight ahead, avoiding eye contact.
I didn’t sleep well last night and it had nothing to do with the heartburn that’s becoming increasingly persistent. Learning that Ruston lives opposite us has rattled me more than I care to admit. It’s silly, because even if Lloyd learns we used to date, I’ll dismiss it as a past crush, insignificant and irrelevant. But he’ll wonder why I didn’t mention it and I don’t want my husband to start doubting me. It may lead to other questions I have no intention of answering.
As for Ruston being an inconsequential crush from the past, nothing is further from the truth.
Ruston is the love of my life. Was. And I hate that I need to make the clarification from present to past tense in my own head. Marrying Lloyd is the smartest thing I’ve ever done. But deep down, my emotional connection to Ruston simmers, making a mockery of my logical choice of husband.
I’ve been spying this morning in the hope I’ll catch a glimpse of him walking or jogging and I can instigate an “accidental” meeting where I can grill him about how he ended up here and warn him not to say anything about our shared past to Lloyd. But he’s nowhere in sight and the street is quiet.
While Celeste only recently moved in, like me, maybe Frankie has the lowdown on Ruston so I make an impulsive decision to join them.
They look up as I approach. “Hey, girls, mind if I join you?”
“Sure,” Frankie says, almost too eagerly, pointing to the empty bench opposite. “We’re making the most of this sunshine while the girls play.”
“You’ll get to do this soon.” Celeste glances at my small bump. “Another four months and you’ll be indoctrinated into the joys of mothers’ group.”
I pretend to shudder as I sit, when I’m actually looking forward to absorbing the wisdom of fellow moms. “I’ve heard about those. A bunch of new moms comparing their babies’ sleep patterns and feeding habits and who has the biggest bassinet.”
Frankie laughs. “They can be daunting, but it’s good to hang out with women going through the same thing.”
Celeste nods in agreement, but she’s studying me, as if she can’t quite figure me out.
What would these women think if they knew the truth?
They’ll never understand. Nobody will.
Eventually I’ll tell Lloyd. I’ll have to, because he deserves to know the type of woman he married. I know there’s a chance he’ll leave me, but with his immersion in the church and one of his major mantras being forgiveness, I’m hoping he won’t; that he’ll be so smitten by our baby boy by then he could never leave us.
“So what’s it like, Frankie, having two new neighbors?”
I watch for her reaction carefully because I get the feeling there’s already tension between her and Celeste. When I walked up a few minutes ago they both wore harried expressions that had nothing to do with their kids, as the girls are happily engaged in role-playing with their dolls.
“Great, actually, considering both houses have been empty for a while.” She flashes me a genuine smile. “It’s a fantastic neighborhood. Everyone’s friendly, no late night loud music to contend with, no barking dogs, and a general lack of any scandal.”
I laugh, intending to keep it that way despite Ruston re-entering my life when I least expect it.
“We love it so far,” I say, my gaze automatically drifting to the house opposite where he lives. “The way everyone came to the gender reveal party yesterday blew me away. I felt so welcomed.”
“We’re a friendly bunch,” Frankie says, and Celeste’s eyebrows raise a fraction, making me wonder if she feels the same about her own welcome. I know she only moved in two nights ago and from what I saw at the party, the street is full of happy families and couples planning the next stage of their lives. Does she feel out of place as a single mom?
I’d seen her SUV pull up and watched her unload her stuff. Not much for a woman and child—two suitcases, a duffel and a backpack—so she probably took the place fully furnished like we
did. Cheaper that way and makes for an easier get-away. I understand, as depending how my plan plays out, I may need to leave quickly too.
I’m not sure what to make of Celeste. We didn’t interact much yesterday. She kept to herself. She seems reserved, wary almost, like she’s afraid of something.
I know the feeling.
“If you need anything in particular for the baby, let me know,” Frankie says. “I get sent free stuff all the time, even though Luna is five now.”
“That must be so cool. I love your vlog.”
The realtor had mentioned our house being next door to Frankie Forbes and I hadn’t known who that was until I looked her up. I’m beyond impressed with her massive following and she appears like a natural in front of the camera, at odds with the woman in front of me, who seems more introverted.
“Thanks. It’s a fun job,” Frankie says, but her brow furrows slightly. “But our house is stuffed to overflowing so I donate a lot to charity and give away the rest once I’ve promoted online, as more keeps coming.”
“I’m happy to take stuff off your hands,” Celeste says, waving. “Any time.”
We laugh and I’m glad I ventured out to join them. However, I had a reason for approaching them and I need to discover more about Ruston.
“Everyone was so lovely at the party yesterday, but are you close with any of the neighbors in particular?” I ask Frankie.
Frankie holds up her hand and wavers it. “Yes and no. I mean, we’re all friendly, and we do gatherings in the park for some of the big holidays like Fourth of July, but I’m pretty busy most of the time so I don’t catch up regularly with anyone.”
I snap my fingers. “Damn, so you don’t know the hot guy who lives across the park?”
I’m fishing for information, to see how much Frankie knows.
She screws up her nose like she’s thinking and I laugh. “If you have to think that long, you don’t know him.”
“There’s a hot guy?” Celeste rubs her hands together and we laugh in unison again.
“Yeah, and he lives alone.”
Celeste sends a pointed glance at my belly. “And you’re asking because?”
“No harm in looking.” I hold up my hands in surrender and Celeste smiles, but she’s eyeing me again, like I’m a puzzle to solve.
“Oh, you mean Ruston,” Frankie says, and I stiffen, wondering what she’ll say next.
But before Frankie can elaborate, the girls abandon their play and run up to us. The cute blonde tugs at Frankie’s hand. “Mom, did you bring snacks?”
“Yeah, beetroot juice and spinach cupcakes,” Frankie deadpans, winking at Celeste, whose daughter has paled at the mention of the food.
“Mom!” Luna hops from foot to foot, obviously used to her mother’s sense of humor. “What did you really bring?”
“Apple juice and oatmeal cookies.” Frankie looks at Celeste. “Sorry, I should’ve asked if Violette has any food allergies.”
“She doesn’t,” Celeste says. “All good.”
“Great.”
As Frankie unzips a cooler bag and sets out snacks for the girls, offering us cookies too, I experience a pang of regret. Hambridge Heights is a good neighborhood and Frankie would make a great neighbor.
I hope I can stay when the truth comes out.
Sixteen
Frankie
THEN
I’m floating on my back in the pool and Walter is sitting on the side, his feet dangling in the deep end. He’s wearing plain black board shorts that show off surprisingly muscular legs. His chest is bare, with a smattering of dark hair in stark contrast to the pallor of his skin. I’ve been eyeing him off for the last hour, my pulse racing and my heart pounding in the throes of my first full-blown crush.
He’s nothing like the guys at school, who can only converse about football and college and parties. It must be an age thing, because Walter exudes a quiet confidence I find extremely attractive. He’s not verbose yet he’s easy to talk to, and we’ve covered a range of topics over the last sixty minutes, from how much he loves his job at the bank and being on a fast-track to manager, to my passion for books across genres.
But he hasn’t mentioned one salient fact and I’ve finally worked up the courage to ask him about it.
“Where’s your girlfriend?”
“She left yesterday morning.” He sounds relieved rather than unhappy about it.
“Was she at my party?”
“No, she had a migraine.”
“Too bad.” I would’ve liked to suss out the competition. Then again, the way Walter has been checking me out since he arrived for a swim, I’m quietly confident he returns my interest.
I can’t explain my attraction to him. But from the moment we met I felt a bewildering mix of excitement and calm around him, two conflicting emotions that make me want to do crazy things, like beg him to take me with him when he leaves.
I don’t want to talk about his girlfriend but I don’t want to encroach on her territory either if they’re serious. “How long have you been going out?”
“A year.”
Yikes. That’s bad. Twelve months is a committed relationship and I experience a flicker of remorse. Maybe I should back off?
But then I catch him staring at my breasts from behind his sunglasses and I know I have to make a move or I’ll regret it forever. My priorities have changed. I’d been looking forward to my gap year at home, to figure out what I want to do with my life before heading off to college. But meeting Walter, the first guy I’ve ever been interested in, hot on the heels of discovering my parents’ secret, has made me re-evaluate. Maybe I need a fresh start away from here to work out where my life is heading?
“Do you love her?”
“What kind of question is that?”
He’s bemused rather than angry so I persist. “Because if you love her I won’t pursue this and today is about two new friends hanging out and getting to know each other.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you better get your ass in here and find out.”
He laughs, a loud bellow that startles some nearby starlings into taking flight.
“Just so you know, I don’t usually talk to guys like that. In fact, I’ve never said anything so forward to a male in all my life, but I like you, you’re leaving at the end of the week and I don’t want to waste any time.”
In response, he swings his legs out of the water and stands. Great, I’ve screwed this up monumentally with my uncharacteristic bluntness. I swim to the shallow end so I can stand too. When I do, he’s still staring at me like he can’t quite figure me out.
“Where are you going?”
“Home,” he says.
“Will I see you tomorrow?”
“No. I’m not going ‘home’ as in next door, I’m heading home to Hartford.”
“Oh.”
Not only have I failed in my quest to get him to like me, I’m so damn unlikeable I’ve driven him all the way to his hometown.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why?”
I shake my head and water droplets fly in a pretty arc, glinting in the sunlight. “I think I’ve said enough.”
He shrugs and turns away, and my heart sinks, before he pauses and glances over his shoulder.
“I’m going home to break up with my girlfriend because I’d never cheat.”
I think I fell a little in love with him right then.
He grins and gives me a funny half salute. “And in case you don’t understand, I’ll be back.”
Seventeen
Frankie
NOW
After the play date, I don’t feel like working. I have a slight headache, the kind that always comes on when I’m stressed. Silly, really, because Celeste made an effort to be friendly and having Saylor pop over to join us was nice. Both women are lovely and I hate that I’m letting my insecurities taint what could possibly be great friendships.
I feel like I’m unraveling. I can’t believe I told Celest
e my innermost fear about being a nobody if I quit my job… I overshared, something I never do. But she’s a good listener and asked the right questions without coming across as probing or inquisitive. And she offered to take Luna if I ever need a break. That was thoughtful. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend close by I could rely on.
While there are many perks with my job, a major downside is the isolation. Sure, I have many “friends” and followers on social media, but I drifted away from my school friends when I left Gledhill and didn’t form any real attachments to Andre’s crowd when we lived in Manhattan. I guess I’ve always been a bit of a loner and it’s suited me. I didn’t need anyone apart from Walt in my first marriage. He’d saved me in a way, taking me far from Gledhill, and I’ll always love him for that. With Andre, our relationship had been so intense, so insular from the start, I didn’t need anyone else. These days, I wonder if that’s a good thing.
Luna and Vi are besties already and I’m glad, considering I’m too busy to take her to play dates with other children she’s met at dance class and most of our neighbors have boys. Luna having a friend the same age next door is handy so it looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time with Celeste. I need to get over my suspicions and she’s presented me with the perfect opportunity to do just that, asking for Andre’s help to move stuff for her. My husband has a hero complex so he’ll love to help, and I’ll tag along with Luna on the pretext of the girls spending a bit more time together. Underhand, maybe, but I need to get over this funk once and for all and if I see them interacting together up close and personal I’ll know whether this is all in my head.
Ironically, my session online today is on hiding vegetables in popular foods for kids. I’d joked around with Luna in the park today but my daughter has no idea on the number of times she eats vegetables she hates. Violette’s horrified expression had been priceless and I’ll make sure to ask Celeste about her daughter’s eating habits later and if she’s as sneaky as me. It’s something we can bond over, our commonalities as mothers, and I’m determined to make an effort.
