He stands up and grabs his briefcase and then walks unsteadily toward the foyer. Moments later, I can hear the front door slam, and the sound of his car starting in the driveway.
“He’s afraid you’re going to sue us,” Caroline explains. “Can you please tell me what happened? In your own words?”
“Caroline, I promise you, it was nothing. Last night, I went to Adrian’s house. His parents were having a party. I got home after midnight and Ted was in my cottage. He was drunk. He said you guys had a fight, and that he needed a quiet place to cool off.”
“I thought he was downstairs. Sleeping on the sofa.”
“As soon as I came home, he said he was sorry and he left. That was it.”
“Did he tell you about our fight?”
“No, he just said you were a good person. With a good heart. He said you would do anything for your family.”
“And?”
“And that was it. He wasn’t making a lot of sense. He talked about some island? Where he spent a summer in college?”
“‘Working in the sun and sleeping under the stars,’” Caroline says, and I realize that she’s parodying her husband, gently mocking him. “Whenever he gets drunk, he talks about Whidbey Island.”
“I didn’t mind. I gave him some water and some baby aspirin and I opened the door and he left. End of story.”
She studies my face like she’s searching for clues. “I’m embarrassed to ask this next question, but since technically you’re my employee, I feel like I have to. Did he try anything?”
“No. Not at all.”
I mean, I guess I could mention that he took off his pants, and raided my underwear drawer, and did God-knows-what in my bed before I arrived. But what would be the point? Poor Caroline already looks miserable, and Ted has apologized. I don’t see the point in dragging this out. I’m certainly not going to quit over what happened.
“Caroline, I swear to you, he didn’t put a hand on me. Not even close.”
She releases a deep long sigh. “Ted turned fifty-three this summer. I’m sure you’ve heard about men and their midlife crises. They start questioning all the choices they’ve made. And on top of that, his business is struggling. It’s taking a toll on his ego. He was hoping to hire some new people this fall, but it’s looking doubtful.”
“How big is the company?”
She gives me a funny look. “He’d like a staff of forty but right now it’s just Ted. It’s a one-man operation.”
Just Ted? My sense was that he worked in a big Center City skyscraper full of secretaries and fancy computers and big glass windows overlooking Rittenhouse Square. “He told me he works with Cracker Barrel. And Yankee Candle. Big companies.”
“He’s taken meetings with them,” Caroline explains. “He goes around to different companies and offers to run their websites. Direct their e-commerce businesses. But it’s hard to land these big clients when you’re just one person.”
“He’s mentioned coworkers. Guys named Mike and Ed. He says they all eat lunch together.”
“Right, they’re all in the same WeWork. One of those office-shares where people rent desks by the month. Because Ted needs to have a mailing address in the city. A big part of his business is making a good impression. Trying to appear more important than you really are. He’s been under a lot of stress this summer—and last night, I think you saw the first cracks in the facade.”
Her voice breaks and I realize she’s worried not just for Ted but also for their marriage, for their entire family. And I truly have no idea what to say to her. I’m relieved to hear Teddy’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Caroline sits up straight and dabs her eyes with a napkin.
Teddy enters the kitchen carrying an iPad. He’s swiping his finger across the surface and the screen responds with loud, cacophonous explosions.
“Hey there, Teddy Bear! Whatcha got?”
He doesn’t look up from the screen. “Mommy gave it to me last night. It used to be Daddy’s but now it’s mine.” He grabs a plastic tumbler and fills it with water from the sink. Without another word of explanation, he carries the cup and iPad into the den.
“Teddy’s taking a break from drawing,” Caroline explains. “In light of all the confusion, we think he needs some new interests. And the App Store has a ton of educational resources. Math games, phonics, even foreign languages.” She walks across the kitchen and opens a cabinet above the refrigerator, way beyond Teddy’s reach. “I gathered all his crayons and markers and put them up here. Teddy’s so excited about the iPad, I don’t think he’s even noticed.”
I know the first rule of babysitting is never second-guessing the mother, but I can’t help feeling like this is a mistake. Teddy took a real joy in drawing and I think it’s wrong to deprive him of the privilege. Worse, I feel like it’s happening because of me, because I wouldn’t keep my mouth shut about Annie Barrett.
Caroline registers my disappointment. “It’s an experiment. Just for a couple days. Maybe it can help us understand what’s happening.” She closes the door to the cabinet, as if the matter is settled. “But now tell me about this party at Adrian’s house. Did you have a nice time?”
“Really nice.” And I guess I’m happy to change the subject, because I’ve been thinking about our dinner date since I got out of bed. “We’re going out tonight. He wants to drive to Princeton. Some kind of tapas restaurant.”
“Oooh, those places are so romantic.”
“He’s picking me up at five thirty.”
“Then I’ll try to get home early. Give you some extra time to get ready.” Then she checks the time. “Shoot, I better go. I’m so excited for you, Mallory! You’re going to have so much fun tonight!”
* * *
After Caroline leaves, I find Teddy sitting in the den, mesmerized by a game of Angry Birds. He’s using his finger to stretch and release a giant slingshot; he’s launching colorful birds at a series of wood and steel structures occupied by pigs. With each new attack, there’s a cacophony of screeches, explosions, bangs, blasts, and slide whistles. I sit across from Teddy and clap my hands together. “So, what are we doing this morning? A little stroll in the Enchanted Forest? Or how about a Bake-Off?”
He shrugs, swiping furiously. “I don’t care.”
One of the birds misses its target and Teddy furrows his brow, frustrated by the results. He hunches closer to the screen, almost like he’s trying to disappear inside it.
“Come on, Teddy. Put the game away.”
“I’m not done.”
“Mommy says it’s for Quiet Time. She doesn’t want you using it all morning.”
He turns away from me, shielding the tablet with his body. “Just one more level.”
“How long is a level?”