“Anniversary,” said Miranda. She felt Ben was taking every opportunity to goad her.
William pushed in his chair. “Thank you, but I think I’ll turn in. Goodnight.”
Ben handed the bottle to Miranda. “I’ll show you out, William.”
*
Half an hour later, Miranda was cleaning up the kitchen while Ben finished loading the dishwasher and turned it on. Then he noticed that there were still two pieces of cheesecake left and he started in on one.
Miranda had determined to let things blow over, but she felt she had to let off some steam. She spun around and faced Ben, taking him by surprise. “I hate it when you belittle me in front of people.” She gave him two seconds to respond, and then began to wash the wine glasses by hand.
“I never belittle you. I was just disagreeing with your argument. That’s different. You’ve become obsessed with these dreams. It’s ridiculous.”
“Any time I see things differently from you, it’s me who’s the ridiculous one. I’m tired of it.” She opened a drawer for a dishtowel, and slammed the drawer much louder than she meant to, causing Ben to look up.
“You know, Sam asked me if I wanted to go to the cabin this weekend for some fishing, and I said no because – ”
“I hope you didn’t say no on my account. I think it’s a great idea. We could use a few days apart.”
“I couldn’t agree more. I’ll tell him I’m coming.”
“Good.”
“Fine.”
“Fine then!”
Ben turned to set the plate in the sink and knocked over a half-filled bottle of wine with his elbow.
Miranda jumped at the sound, and then groaned wearily as the red wine drained onto the counter.
Ben grabbed some paper towels. “I’ll get it.”
Miranda set the dishtowel down, and watched Ben mop up the mess. Then she went upstairs.
She took a quick bath, and climbed into bed. Disappointed in the way the evening had turned out, she welcomed the heaviness of sleep coming over her. She didn’t want to be awake when Ben came in. She just wanted to forget about everything.
Though she tried to empty her mind, she kept seeing the odd expression William had given her when they were talking about dreams. Nor could she forget his guilty look at the pool when he saw her. She felt her mind connecting the dots, an image beginning to emerge that she didn’t want to look at.
Again that night, she dreamed that she wandered through the old outbuilding.
She climbed a twisting flight of steps, getting closer to the boy’s cries. Near the top, she saw a doll that looked like Clara’s. She picked it up and continued along a narrow hallway.
The cries were coming from behind a paneled wall of doors and cupboards, but there were no knobs. She ran her hand along the seams and called out, “Johnny!” She knew the boy was trapped there. Then she saw Ben coming up the stairs.
“Ben,” she cried out, “he’s here! Behind the wall.”
Ben looked at her, then noticed a piece of cheesecake setting out on a table, and began to eat it.
Miranda woke from her dream and sat up in bed. She looked over at Ben, and knew that she was on her own. She cocked her head and listened. Was that a cry?
She crept out of bed and went to the window that was cracked open; she lifted it higher, and listened. Then she walked to the other window and peered down at the dark garden house. She listened again, but didn’t hear anything. After straining to hear any sound, she finally gave up and went back to bed. Sometime in the early morning, she finally fell back asleep.
Chapter 9
Miranda briskly swept the driveway, deep in thought about the previous night. The argument with Ben, the tension she felt from William, the dream. And Ben leaving early that morning without saying goodbye. He had never done that before. She stared out at the driveway, wondering if it was all downhill from here.
And yet she was glad Ben was gone, she thought, resuming her sweeping. She needed time alone to figure things out.
“Morning, Miranda!” Paula was crossing over to her with a platter in her hand. “I wanted to return this to Nicole, but no one was home. I haven’t seen her or the kids for a while. Have you?”
Miranda glanced over towards Nicole’s house, and shook her head.
Paula’s expression changed on seeing Miranda close up. “Is everything all right?”
Miranda wondered if she looked as haggard as she felt. “Oh, fine. I just couldn’t sleep last night.”
“Well, it got to be pretty late. We had a great time. That moussaka was delicious. And it was nice seeing William again. He’s such a nice guy.”
Miranda focused on the driveway and swept the pine needles and leaves in a pile.
“Sure you’re okay? You didn’t have another bad dream, did you?”
Miranda brushed it off as of no concern. “Ben left for the peninsula for a few days. Fishing with Sam. Just as well. We were starting to get on each other’s nerves.”
Paula laughed. “Well, some time apart can be the best thing. Hey, why don’t you stop by for dinner? Derek’s bowling tonight.”
“That’d be nice. Anything I can bring?”
“No, I’ll do the cooking for a change.” Paula started to leave, but then turned around. “I meant to ask William last night – I thought he said he didn’t know anyone in Seattle. Does he have family here?”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“I’ve seen him outside the daycare once or twice, like he was watching for someone.”
“Huh. I don’t know. I’ll have to ask him,” Miranda said, starting to sweep again.
“Seven o’clock?” Paula asked.
Miranda nodded and waved goodbye. She swept more forcefully, not sure if she was trying to suppress an idea or dislodge one. After finishing the driveway and sidewalks, she glanced across the street again at Nicole’s house. Now that Paula mentioned it, she hadn’t seen Nicole or her kids for quite a while.
She crossed the street and walked up to Nicole’s house. The curtains were open, yet everything was quiet. She rang the doorbell and waited. Then she used the knocker. After a few moments, she stepped back and looked for anything unusual. She looked down at her feet, letting her mind follow several possible threads, each unlikely but –
“Hi, Miranda!” called Nicole from the sidewalk. ”Is everything okay? You look deep in thought about something.”
“Oh, hi!” Miranda said, trying to cover being startled. “Paula just tried to return a dish to you and said she hasn’t seen you in a while. I heard that the flu or something was going around at the daycare and I just wanted to make sure the kids weren’t sick or anything.” She realized she was still holding the broom in her hand.
“The flu?” Nicole asked, tilting her head. “No, the kids are fine. But that’s so sweet of you to worry about them. We’ve been around, just busy with play dates and swimming lessons. We were just down at the park.”
Miranda leaned over to the kids. “Did you have fun?”
“Yeah,” said Danny. “William pushed me high on the swing, all the way up to the sky.”
Nicole laughed. “We run into William now and then at the park. I always tell the kids to leave him alone – he’s always busy on his laptop – but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s such a nice guy. Has a real way with kids.” Nicole unlocked her door. “How about a cup of coffee? I need one after chasing these two all morning.”
“Oh, thanks, Nicole. I need to get back and finish up.”
“Jack’s planning his summer barbeque bash. I’ll let you know when the date is. Maybe you could bring William along, if he’s still around.”
Miranda smiled. “We’ll be sure to be there.”
“Thanks for stopping by. Say hello to Ben!”
Miranda walked back home more disturbed than before she went to Nicole’s. And yet Danny and Ariel were fine; so what was her problem? She began to question her motives. Was she becoming a busybody? Forcing an issue that w
asn’t even there?
It was better to live on the surface, she thought – on daylight facts, on what she could see and touch, on things that could be known – and not go digging around too much in the mind’s darkness.
She sat on the bench outside her front door and looked at the mess from yesterday – how had Derek referred to it? A meltdown? Maybe he was right. Maybe they were all right. She was suffering from empty nest syndrome and wouldn’t admit it.
After all, that made the most sense. And the dreams were just a part of it, getting jumbled with old memories: the girl at the shelter stirring up the memory of the girl from grade school; the swimming pool dream mixing with the memory of her childhood friend and her dog, Jasper. All very logical.
It all made sense. And yet.
She bent down and cleaned up the mess, separating the usable pieces of china and throwing away the rest. She stood with the broom in her hand, letting her mind run over the past few weeks. Some things she could make sense of. But everything concerning William was becoming increasingly murky, increasingly troubling. She could not rationalize away her gut feeling.
*
Ben and his old friend, Sam, leaned on the ferry railing, each holding a cup of coffee. Ahead of them lay the deep-green islands with swaths of morning mist still clinging to the trees, and in the distance, partially obscured by clouds, the coastal mountain range. Ben loved being on the Sound, loved the sailboats, the ferries coming and going, the bracing air – both briny and fresh, mixed with the tarry smell of the wharves.
And yet today, the excitement he usually felt when heading to the peninsula was subdued. He had never left Miranda like that after arguing – without making it up. He called her from the ferry terminal and left a message saying he would be home in a couple of days. He would try to call her again when they arrived. Once he got to Sam’s, the reception was spotty at best.
Sam was the only person, other than Miranda, that Ben had ever confided in, and he was one of the kindest, gentlest people Ben had ever known. Sam now asked him what had changed his mind about joining him at the cabin.
“Oh, Miranda and I just need some time apart. She hasn’t been herself lately. Ever since the kids left.”
“How do you mean? Is she sad? Lonely?”
Ben gazed out at the water. “She seems happy enough. I don’t know. A little preoccupied, not sleeping well.”
“How’s the tenant working out? You said she seemed happy to have the cottage rented out for the summer.”
“At first I thought she was. Now – I’m not sure. Sometimes I think maybe she confides in him. You know how private she usually is. He really won her over somehow.”
Sam looked over at Ben, then back out at the islands. “You’re not worried about this guy and Miranda, are you?”
Ben turned to Sam. “You mean – ?” He smiled and shook his head. “No. Not at all. That’s not her way. She’s fiercely loyal. We both are. That’s part of what keeps us so close.”
“Well, then, things will work out. Just give it some time.”
Ben stared out at the dark, choppy water. “I’m not even sure what we argued about. She’s just been kind of temperamental lately.”
Sam gave a low chuckle. “When Elizabeth got in a mood – used to be – I just listened. Just nodded, and heard whatever it was she had to say. Then hugged her. It always seemed to work.”
Ben looked over at his old friend. “You miss her, don’t you?”
“Every day. For the last ten years.”
Ben was sorry he had brought up his own marital problems. They were trivial compared to Sam’s loss.
They remained silent for a while, each wandering around in their own thoughts as they looked out at the ferries and boats, the swoop of sea birds.
“A few days apart will be good for you both,” said Sam, finishing up his coffee. “Fishing. Always good for the soul.”
*
Miranda spent the rest of the day working in the upper garden. Pulling weeds, edging the sidewalk and paving stones, feeding the roses. But instead of feeling better, a mix of emotions vied for her attention. Anger that Ben hadn’t woken her to say goodbye. Frustration with herself for being so unfocused. And unease from the growing doubts about William. She was beginning to think that maybe he was not what he seemed. Maybe his kindness and interest in her was a facade. He was a complete stranger after all.
She had seen him arrive home half an hour ago. As she weeded, she kept glancing back now and then to see if he was going to leave again. She felt the need to keep track of his whereabouts.
When Ben returned, she would ask him to check with Doug at work, find out more about this guy. You never really knew about people –
“Hi, Miranda.”
Miranda gasped and whipped around.
William took a step back.
Miranda jumped to her feet, rattled by his sudden appearance. “I really wish you would make more noise, William.” She tried to say it lightly but it came out sounding harsh.
“I – I thought you must have heard me coming.” He held up his laptop. “Just going down to the park to work a little.”
Miranda watched him walk past her, then she kneeled back down and pulled at a stubborn weed. “William!”
Her tone surprised herself, as well as William, who stopped and turned.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Do you have family here? In Seattle?”
He waited a moment, before answering. “Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering why you’ve been parking outside the daycare. Paula said she saw you there a few times.” She watched him closely to see how he would answer.
“I was waiting for the dry cleaner to open.” He looked at her, as if trying to judge if that answer was satisfactory, then he continued on.
She tossed the weed in a pile. Then she stood and watched him walk towards the driveway. “William!” she called out again, more abruptly this time.
He spun around at the accusatory tone in her voice.
Miranda took a few steps towards him, holding the dirty trowel in her gloved hand. “I thought I heard cries coming from the garden house last night.” She wasn’t sure she had heard anything. But as she watched him, she wondered why he looked so guilty.
He stood still, eyeing her for longer than she expected. Then he shook his head. “I didn’t hear anything.” He walked away, more quickly than he usually did, she noticed.
She couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it was about him, but something was not right. She just knew it. Maybe midlife angst was clouding her judgment about some issues, and maybe she missed the kids more than she thought – but still, something was not right with that guy.
She sat back on the grass, and tossed the trowel to the ground.
*
“Sure you won’t join me?” asked Paula, pouring a little amaretto into her coffee.
“Thanks, no. I had too much wine as it is. Just coffee for me.”
“How about another slice?” Paula held out the raspberry chocolate cake with fresh whipped cream.
Miranda held up a hand, ready to decline the offer.
“Come on. Raspberries are good for you.”
Miranda laughed and agreed to another piece. “I’m going to have to walk ten miles tomorrow.”
Paula placed fresh slices on their plates. “I cut and wrapped some cake for you and Ben, and for William,” she said, adding fresh coffee to their cups. “I saw William drive off a little while ago. He’s such a nice guy, isn’t he?” She sat back down at the table.
“I guess so.” Miranda took a bite of the cake.
Paula stopped her fork in mid-air. “What? I thought you liked him.”
Miranda chewed slowly, as if considering it. “I do. He seems very nice.”
“But what?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if he isn’t too nice.”
“What does that mean?”
Miranda regretted voicing her doubts. “I don’t know. I just
get the feeling that he’s hiding something. He’s very secretive.”
“Well, that’s his prerogative, isn’t it?” Paula took a bite of cake. “Maybe he just went through a bad breakup or who knows what. And needs some time alone.”
“You’re right.” Miranda poured milk into her coffee and stirred it. “You know, I don’t trust my judgment anymore.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’ve gotten to the point where I’m beginning to doubt my doubts.”
“You’re just figuring things out. Go easy on yourself. Life is changing and you just need to catch up with it. Give yourself time.”
Miranda nodded and smiled at Paula.
“Did you try Googling William?” Paula was already reaching for her phone. “Let’s find out more about him. Maybe that would put your mind at rest.”
“Oh, no, Paula. That’s okay.”
“We might find out something interesting about Mr. William Priestly,” Paula said, keying in his name.
“Do you think that’s his real last name?” asked Miranda.
“Why not? I knew a Rob Priestly once. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a way to give a favorable first impression to people,” suggested Miranda.
“Or a bad one,” countered Paula. “Here we go. William Priestly.”
A college webpage quickly came up. She read bits and pieces as she scrolled down the page. “Taught History a couple of years ago, teaches a survey course in World Literature, blah, blah, blah. Here’s a link to a syllabus if you’re interested. Involved in several youth organizations...” She shrugged. “Nothing too interesting.”
“Does it say which organizations? What age group?”
Paula scanned the information. “Looks like there have been several over the years. Has been published in multiple literary journals…writes under aliases. Huh. I wonder why.” She looked up at Miranda. “Not much. Just what they want you to know,” she said, taking another bite of cake.
The conversation shifted to Paula’s walking routine and how she and Derek were planning to hike the coastal trail in Oregon. After another half hour, Miranda stretched, and brought her cup and plate to the counter. “I should be going. Thanks for dinner, Paula.”
The Garden House Page 10
