She coolly regards me now and says, “What did you bring me?”
I panic, realizing that I never made it to the American Girl or Disney store as I promised. “I didn’t have a chance,” I say lamely. “I was going to do it today.”
“Oh, man,” Ruby says, her lip curling into a pout. “Daddy always gets us something when he goes away.”
I consider the trinkets that Nick has brought back from conferences, often cheap airport souvenirs, and feel guilty that I didn’t at least save her my pretzels from the plane.
“Rubes. Be kind to your mother,” Nick says, a mechanical reprimand. He then removes his own layers—a jacket, a fleece pullover, and a scarf—hanging everything on a hook by the door.
“She came home early,” he adds. “That’s your surprise. Our surprise.”
“And my surprise was a clean house,” I say, giving him a grateful look.
Nick smiles and winks, taking full credit, although something tells me that Carolyn did the laundry.
“Coming home early isn’t a surprise,” Ruby says.
“Maybe we’ll get you a treat tonight. Ice cream after dinner?” I offer. Ruby is not sold on this, her pout conveying both disappointment and disgust.
She crosses her arms and attempts to negotiate a better deal. “With hot fudge?”
I nod while Frankie chortles unintelligibly, oblivious to his malcontent sister and the unspoken tension between his parents. I watch him flap his arms and spin again, filled with affection, admiration, and envy for my simple, happy child. As he falls down, dizzy and giggling, I say a prayer that Nick and I can somehow return to that pure place, where we want to drop everything we’re doing, just be in the moment, and dance.
34
Valerie
Hi, Val. It’s me. Hope you guys are having a good day. We’re here at the Children’s Museum, in the Bubble Room. Good times... Anyway, I’m so sorry, but I’m not going to be able to see you tonight, after all... Give me a call if you get this message soon. Otherwise... I... might not be able to talk... I’ll call when I can and explain... Anyway, I’m sorry. Truly... I miss you...Last night was incredible. You’re incredible...All right. Bye for now.
Her heart sinks as she listens to the message in the parking lot of Whole Foods, having just gone shopping for tonight’s dinner. Charlie and three bags of groceries are in the backseat behind her.
“Mommy!” Charlie says impatiently.
“What, honey?” she says, glancing at her son in the rearview mirror, doing her best to look and sound upbeat, the opposite of how she feels.
“Why aren’t you driving? Why are we just sitting here?”
“Sorry . . . I was listening to a message,” she says, starting the car and slowly backing up.
“From Nick?” he asks.
Her heart skips a beat. “Yes. That was Nick,” she says, the risk of what she is doing further crystallizing in her mind, along with the realization that, already, Nick has become Charlie’s first guess, even before Jason or her mother, just as he was the first one Charlie called from school when he couldn’t reach her.
“What did he say?” Charlie asks. “Is he coming tonight?”
“No, sweetie,” she says, turning out of the lot.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know,” she says, silently ticking through the possibilities. Maybe he couldn’t find a babysitter. Maybe his wife came home a day early. Maybe he changed his mind about her, about them. Whatever the explanation, she realizes with acute sadness that this is how it’s going to be, that these sorts of disappointments and messages and cancellations come with the territory. She can pretend and dream all she wants—and she certainly did last night—but there is no way around what they are doing. They are having an affair, and she is on the sidelines, along with Charlie. It will be her job to shield him from disappointment while hiding her own.
“Mommy?” Charlie asks, as she makes a turn onto a backstreet, taking the longer but more scenic route home.
“Yes, honey?” she says.
“Do you love Nick?”
Her mind races as she grips the steering wheel, searching for the right answer, any answer. “He’s a good friend. He’s been a great friend to us,” she says. “In addition to being a wonderful doctor.”
“But do you love him?” Charlie asks again, as if he knows exactly what is going on. “Like when you want to marry someone?”
“No,” Valerie lies, doing her best to protect him—since it is too late to protect herself. “Not like that, sweetie.”
“Oh,” he says, clearly disappointed by her answer.
With a measure of trepidation, she clears her throat and says, “How do you feel about Nick?”
He pauses, then says, “I like him. I wish . . . I wish he were my daddy.” His voice is wistful but apologetic, almost as if he’s making a confession.