by Thea Dawson
“No problem,” she said. “What’s in San Francisco?” she asked, trying to make conversation.
He frowned. “A conference,” he said shortly, breaking eye contact with her as he shuffled off his overcoat. “Kids in the playroom?”
Celia nodded and watched him cross the kitchen to greet Peyton, a little exasperated at his abruptness. She no longer took his mood shifts personally, but she was still curious—San Francisco was a long way to go just to spend one night at a conference, especially given that he’d have to take two full days off work. She followed him into the playroom to collect her own children, said goodnight to Peyton and Richard, and left.
9
Between her design class, the Co-op, and looking after Peyton, Celia was kept busy over the next few weeks. With her second paycheck from Richard in hand, she was feeling positively abundant; the mortgage was still being paid from Brad’s life insurance, but groceries, utilities, and gas were now comfortably covered—she even had a little extra in hand. Although the weather was still cold, the relentless rain had given way to periodic bouts of brisk, windy sunshine. March, which had come in like a lion, was becoming more lamb-like with each passing day, and with the scent of spring in the air, Celia was determined to follow through on an overdue promise.
“I have a surprise for you,” Celia said as Lily and Peyton clambered into her car at school pick up the day before Richard was to go out of town.
“For me or Peyton?” asked Lily.
“Well, really for you, but sort of for both of you. Today,” she paused for dramatic effect, “Lily is going to start taking riding lessons with Peyton.”
There was a moment of silence before both girls shouted, “Yay!”
“Thank you, Mama!” Lily gasped.
At the barn, a cheerful Mrs. Corbett introduced Lily, clad now in rainboots and a bicycle helmet, to her horse, Blackberry, and helped her mount. Lily looked both thrilled and faintly terrified. Keeping half an eye on Rowan and Rosie, who had found a couple of kittens and were playing with them, Celia followed Lily with her gaze as Mrs. Corbett walked the huge horse into the ring with Peyton, who chattered excitedly.
Celia leaned against the wooden fence around the ring, smiling at the two girls’ delight and enjoying a warm glow of pride and love. A small part of her was worried what would happen next month and the month after that, but for now, four weeks’ worth of lessons were paid for, and she’d cross the next bridge when she came to it.
By the end of the lesson, Lily was trotting comfortably, and Mrs. Corbett assured her that she’d be cantering around the ring with Peyton and the other kids within a lesson or two. Lily and Peyton still found enough energy to chatter excitedly in the car on the way home.
“I can’t wait for our sleepover tomorrow!” Peyton said breathlessly.
“I know!” said Lily. “It’s going to be SO much fun!”
Celia laughed as she navigated her big car down the quiet streets of Richard’s neighborhood. “It’s still a school night,” she reminded them. “I know it’s exciting, but you still have to go to bed on time, and you can’t stay up talking all night.”
“I know,” Peyton said, “But it’s still really fun. I don’t get to have a lot of sleepovers.”
Celia wondered if Richard had been wrong; Peyton didn’t sound like a child who was frightened at the thought of a sleepover. “Peyton, would you like to come over to our house for a sleepover sometime?”
“I’d like that very much!” Peyton responded. “I used to be scared of sleeping over at other people’s houses, but I wouldn’t be scared at your house.”
Celia glanced at her eager little face in the rearview mirror and felt a rush of affection for the little girl. “Well, I’ll talk to your dad about it. Maybe we can set something up.”
“All right!” said Peyton and Lily together, and they continued plotting their sleepover.
But she was distracted from her plans to ask Richard about a sleepover when he came home that evening. She had just finished emptying the dishwasher when he came in through the mudroom and said hello. After hanging up his coat, he made a beeline for a package on the kitchen table.
Celia looked over her shoulder as she put the last plates away. “That was delivered about an hour ago.”
“Perfect!” He looked at the cardboard box with a satisfied air then handed it to Lily as she walked into the kitchen with Peyton.
“Present for you,” he said.
Lily just stared at him.
“Hey, how come she gets a present?” asked Peyton, frowning slightly.
“Sometimes you get presents for no reason. Now it’s Lily’s turn.”
Curious, Celia wiped her hands on a dishtowel and came over to the table. “What do you say?” she nudged Lily.
“Thank you?” said Lily, staring at the box in her hands.
“Thank you.” Celia looked at Richard. “What is it?”
“Go ahead and open it.” Richard looked pleased with himself.
Celia helped Lily find the pull tab of the box and watched her peel it back, curious.
Inside was a large hardbound book called The Science of Good Cooking. She and Lily looked up at Richard.
“You mentioned you liked baking,” he said to Lily. “And I know you like science. This is all about the science behind cooking, why bread rises, why the right temperatures are important, that sort of thing.”
“Cool,” said Lily, stroking the book in anticipation.
It took Celia a few seconds to find her voice. “Thank you,” she said finally. “That was really thoughtful. I bet Lily will love this.”
“I will!” Lily’s voice was eager. “I love cookbooks, and my mother won’t buy them for me—she only lets me take them out of the library. Thank you very much.” The excitement in Lily’s voice made up for the flash of embarrassment Celia felt at Lily’s revelation.
“Well, the library lets you experiment with lots of different types of cookbooks without having to buy them all. But it’s always good to have a few good reference books on hand. I hope you’ll get a lot out of this one.”
“I will. Thank you.” Lily tucked the book carefully back into its box and made room for it in her backpack.
“That was really thoughtful of you,” Celia said quietly to Richard. “Thank you.”
Richard looked embarrassed. “It’s nothing,” he said gruffly. “Now, are you all set for tomorrow night?”
Having sorted out a few last-minute details with Richard, Celia picked up the kids as usual the following afternoon and drove them to Richard’s.
While the four kids played in the yard, Celia indulged herself making dinner. It was kind of nice not to have to pack up and leave two hours after getting there, so she took her time to really enjoy the spacious, modern kitchen. She put out appetizers of cut vegetables along with olives and hummus and made a rosemary cream sauce for the artisan tortellini that Richard had left in the fridge. She steamed some carrots and broccoli (organic, of course), and tossed the spring garden salad with a dressing she made with the fancy olive oil and some champagne mustard.
Once she’d set the water on to boil, she poured herself a small glass of white wine from an open bottle in the fridge. Taking her first sip, she did a double take; she didn’t know much about wine, but this was delicious. She wondered if Richard would notice that the bottle was less full; surely he wouldn’t begrudge her a single glass. Out of curiosity, she took out her phone and googled Montinore Estate Swan Song Pinot Noir, doing a second double take when she saw the price.
Maybe he would begrudge it.
She shrugged to herself. It was poured now; she might as well enjoy it. The water was only just starting to steam slightly, so she took Rowan outside to the patio. Rosie, Lily and Peyton chased each other up and down the climbing structure; Rowan toddled after them with determination. Celia lounged on one of the deck chairs. She closed her eyes briefly, letting the late afternoon sun warm her face, and took a deep, contented breath. H
appy children, nice weather, a glass of wine and a good dinner to look forward to... And a gorgeous house and a big backyard with a pool and a hot tub—that helped, too, she admitted to herself.
Her dinner was a surprise hit. Even Rosie, the fussy eater, inhaled her tortellini and vegetables, and Peyton was effusive in her praise of the cream sauce. For dessert, Celia quickly made a batch of fudge sauce which they poured over the gourmet ice cream from the freezer.
“Your mom is the best cook,” Peyton told Lily.
“She’s a better cook when she’s here,” Lily replied. “She doesn’t cook this well at our house.”
Celia laughed, but the remark stung a bit, too. She didn’t ordinarily put this much effort into dinner, and she knew the fancy ingredients made a difference.
After dinner, the kids played in the yard again until it started to get dark. It was surprisingly easy to get them to bed. Perhaps it was the novelty of the situation. Lily slept on the top bunk in Peyton’s room, Rosie curled up in Celia’s bed in the guest room, and even Rowan zonked out after a bottle. Celia carefully put him down in the little portable crib she’d set up next to her bed and tiptoed out of the guest room, switching off the light as she went. There were some muffled whispers from Peyton’s room but they were quiet. Celia suspected both girls would be asleep soon.
She had kept the kitchen tidy as she cooked so there wasn’t much to clean up. She turned on the dishwasher, wiped down the counters and wandered into the living room. For a few moments, she simply sat on the large, expensively upholstered couch, inhaling the luxury around her. It felt almost like being on vacation; the beautiful surroundings, the easy, delicious food, the hot tub ...
The hot tub! She went outside quickly and turned it on so that it would have a chance to heat up, then ran upstairs, feeling slightly naughty. It seemed a bit decadent to enjoy the hot tub when she was technically working, but the opportunity was too good to pass up.
She hadn’t brought a bathing suit, but the backyard was well-concealed from the neighbors by trees and bushes. She grinned to herself. She slipped out of her clothes and into the light robe she’d packed. She grabbed a towel from the guest bathroom and skipped downstairs and out onto the back porch. Putting the towel down on the deck next to her, she slipped out of the robe, feeling the cool night air against her bare skin. She felt exposed, naked on the patio, and slid quickly into the water, which was already hot.
She leaned back against the edge as the water churned and bubbled around her and looked up at the starry night sky. So strange to feel the cool air against her face and shoulders while the rest of her was submerged in the heat. She sighed with a deep contentment. Would she appreciate this kind of luxury if she always had access to it? Or would she eventually come to take it for granted the way Richard seemed to?
She pushed herself to the opposite edge and stared up at the house. It really was beautiful. A house this big and this beautiful was made for entertaining, for fun, for enjoyment. Yet Richard was so serious, so hard-working. She wondered why he and his wife had bought it in the first place. Had they intended to have more children? To entertain more often?
In her mind’s eye, she pictured the back yard strung with fairy lights, lanterns hanging from the portico, a crowd of happy guests taking drinks and hors d’oeuvres from waiters’ trays, music—something Latin, she thought, but not too fast—playing over that remarkable sound system, chatter, laughter, children running around precociously before being bundled up to bed ... by the nanny.
That would be me, she thought wryly.
The image faded from her mind and she concentrated instead on the feeling of the water against her skin, the peeping of tiny frogs barely audible under the sound of the bubbles. She pictured herself with another glass of wine in her hand. It was tempting, but no. She didn’t want Richard thinking she drank a lot, and she couldn’t risk falling asleep in the hot tub.
The heat of the water, the chill of the air, the fresh scent of the evening were awakening sensations in her that she hadn’t felt for a long time. Her hand slid over her breasts, down her stomach ... And image of Richard, with his dark hair, his face wearing one of his rare grins, rose in her mind.
10
She was just about to leave her own house the next day to pick up Peyton and Lily when Richard texted to say that his flight had been delayed—could she stay an extra hour or two that evening?
No problem, she texted back.
Another text came through almost immediately. I hate to ask, but could you take Peyton to her ballet class at six?
She sighed. She didn’t mind staying late at Richard’s, but she would have preferred to settle in, make dinner and do some homework rather than hauling all four kids across town again at six. But okay.
No problem again! she texted, adding a cheery smiley face.
Thank you, he responded. When nothing more came through, she gathered up Rowan and Rosie and packed them into the car.
“Peyton, your dad’s getting home a bit later than he thought so I’m taking you to ballet tonight,” she explained when the girls had buckled themselves in.
“Yay!” said Peyton. “Lily, you should take ballet classes with me!”
Celia cast wary glance in the review mirror and held her breath. Lily shrugged. “Nah, I’m not very interested in dancing. I just want to do horseback riding and engineers club.”
Celia let out a quiet sigh of relief. One less thing to pay for.
The afternoon went as it usually did. The girls did homework while Celia quickly made a meatloaf and popped it into the oven. She’d have to warm it up again after they got back from class, but she doubted the kids would mind.
Just around the time that she was thinking Richard’s plane would be landing at PDX, he called.
“I’m really sorry,” he said, sounding genuinely contrite. “There were problems with the plane, and they’re re-routing us through Seattle. It doesn’t look like I’ll make it back before eleven at the earliest. I hate to ask, but would you mind spending the night again? I’ll pay you extra, of course.”
Celia thought quickly. The ballet studio was in the center of town, not all that far from her own house; she could pick up a change of clothes for them all on the way back. She had some design homework, but no other commitments ... and she half wondered if she’d have another chance at the hot tub.
“Bummer about your flight. But sure, we can stay over again,” Celia assured him.
“Thank you,” he said gratefully. “I’m really sorry to inconvenience you. I know you have your own life, but really, I’m not sure what we’d do without you.”
She felt herself melting slightly at his words. “No worries,” she replied cheerfully. “These things happen. You want to say hi to Peyton?”
“Yes, that would be great.”
She put Peyton on the phone and was crushed to see her little face fall as she learned that her father wouldn’t be home until after she was asleep.
“Maybe I could stay up and wait for you?” Celia heard her say hopefully, but from her expression, the answer was clearly a negative.
“Come on, let’s get you to ballet,” she said when Peyton hung up, hoping to distract her.
The warmth of the day had carried over into the evening, and Celia enjoyed how much easier and faster it was to get the kids into the car without having to bundle them up in coats, hats and gloves first. They drove back to the center of town and settled in to watch Peyton’s class. The lobby of the studio had large glass windows that looked into its three classrooms. Benches lined the studio wall and chairs were set up in front of the windows so parents could enjoy the classes vicariously.
After watching politely for a few minutes, Lily curled up in a corner with her enormous cookbook and read. Rosie and Rowan gravitated to a box of books and toys for non-dancing siblings. Leaving them to it, Celia took a seat on the bench in front of Peyton’s class next to a mother in yoga pants and a bright pink hoodie. Despite her casual clothes, Celia mark
ed her as Comfortable Class; something about her neat haircut and well-toned figure gave her the look of a woman with leisure and money to spare.
The woman smiled at her. “Hi, I’m Beth,” she said, her voice low as if she didn’t want to interrupt the class, even though it was in another room. “Are you Peyton’s mom?”
“No, just a friend.” Celia voice barely hesitated over the word “friend.” “Her dad’s out of town.”
Beth nodded. “She’s a very sweet little girl.”
“She and my oldest are best friends. We’re all very fond of her. Which one is yours?”
Beth pointed out a little girl with red hair who standing at the bar two places behind Peyton. Celia made small talk with Beth for a few more minutes, Rowan interrupting every so often to bring Celia a toy from the basket before toddling off to fetch something else. After a few minutes, their conversation lapsed into silence. Feeling a bit restless, Celia reached into her bag for her drawing pad and a pen and began to draw.
She swiftly did a couple of sketches of some of the girls at the barre. They were moving slowly through their warm-up and it was relatively easy to capture some details—a mouth here, a pair of eyes there—along with the angles of their arms and legs, the lifts of their chins. She focused on Peyton, naturally, but she also sketched some of the other girls, doing her best to differentiate them despite the identical black leotards and pink tights.
Once the class moved away from the barre and took up positions across the floor, the music picked up and Celia had to sketch a little faster to keep up with the dancers’ movements. She started a new page, again focusing on Peyton, but adding in quick sketches of some of the other girls when she could catch them at good angles.
“Oh wow, those are great!” Beth was looking over her shoulder, still whispering. “Even though it’s just a few lines, I can totally tell that’s Madison!”
Celia gave her a quick smile. “If I can get a good enough view of her, I’ll try to do more.” Beth’s eyes lit up. Celia turned to a new page and began trying to capture the little red-haired girl’s plies and arabesques.
