Fortunately, my irritation and my busyness with both work and the party planning meant I didn’t have too much time to think about Jack and me, and I was too tired at night to do anything but fall into a dreamless sleep. Jack spent most of his days at the library or online researching everything he could find about the sultan, the diamonds, the oddest sites around the world where buried treasure had been found, and even dog collar manufacturers from the nineteenth century. (That swiftly resulted in a solid dead end.)
When he wasn’t doing that, he was tapping on walls to check for hollow spaces, pulling up rugs to look for any loose floorboards we might have missed while sanding and restaining the hardwood, and studying cornices and ceiling medallions for any crevice or crack that might indicate a hiding space. Despite all of this, the most productive part of his week was finding someone to lift the clock, although they couldn’t show up until the morning of the party.
When I wasn’t arguing with Rebecca, I explored Nevin Vanderhorst’s library, searching for hollowed-out books, and examined each crystal drop on every chandelier with a magnifying glass. Jack and I even put Yvonne on the scent, but so far she hadn’t turned up anything new.
As if by unspoken agreement, the only time Jack and I spent together was each night at the dining table with the children, since we both thought it important for us to show a united front to them. But after we’d bathed the twins and put them to bed, and Jack had said good night to Nola, he left for his apartment. Sometimes he hesitated, as if waiting for me to invite him to stay, but I clung to my resolve, knowing how easy it would be to give in. And that would solve absolutely nothing.
The filming had been put on hold indefinitely, until Marc had recovered from his surgery to repair the smashed bones in his foot and ankle, and I could once again enjoy the run of my house at all hours of the day. We consulted with Mr. Zerbe, our lawyer, about the contract implications, and he said to wait and see. Jack and I were fine with this, knowing that a waiting period gave us time to find the three diamonds. Which, at this point, seemed highly doubtful, but I held out hope.
The Thursday before the party, Nola found me in the back garden arranging pots full of plastic baby bottles designed to look like sprouting flowers, and stringing a clothesline between two trees.
“Need help?” she asked, taking one end of the black nylon rope.
She still wore her school uniform, so I was immediately suspicious of her offer. She usually changed first and put her headphones on so she couldn’t hear me ask her to come set the table.
“Thanks. Go stand over by the oak tree so I can make sure it’s long enough.”
“What’s it for?” she asked as she dragged the rope across the grass.
“It’s where we’re going to hang the lingerie gifts as they’re opened. I bought some nice padded lingerie hangers in bordello red and pink to go with the party’s theme. Don’t worry. I’ve made sure that they won’t be visible from the street or by our neighbors. They’ve already suffered enough.”
“Good plan. And just hope none of them gets close enough with their phones to video it or I guarantee you’ll be an Internet sensation in less than an hour.”
“Well, don’t give Rebecca any ideas. She wants to be an Internet influencer and would love the publicity.”
Nola made a face. “I think I just threw up in the back of my mouth.”
Not that I disagreed, but I had to be the mother and forced myself not to laugh. “Be nice, Nola. I can only hope that Rebecca was dropped on her head at some point in her childhood to account for her sense of style and taste. Otherwise, I’m going to worry about JJ and Sarah.”
“Same,” she said, reaching up to loop the rope through the metal hook I’d already screwed into the temporary wooden arbor under which Rebecca would hold court while opening her gifts.
“So, what did you need to ask me?”
“What makes you . . .” She stopped. “You’re a little too good at this mom thing, you know. It’s okay if you slack off a bit. At least until JJ and Sarah are teenagers.”
“Thank you. I think. So what is it?”
“Well, since you asked, I wanted to know if I could go with Lindsey and Alston to see a movie before the sleepover Saturday. It’s the new Emma Stone flick and it’s PG-13, so I can go. We promise to come right home after the movie. Lindsey’s and Alston’s parents have already said yes.”
“Have you asked your father?” I asked, knotting my end of the rope on a lower limb of the live oak. I imagined it sighing in resignation at being so sorely abused and was absurdly glad there was no such agency as the ASPCT.
“No. I mean, that’s your job, right? I know he’s not sleeping here at night, but you’re still talking. So I figured you could ask him. After you told me yes, of course.”
“I don’t know, Nola. I’m still worried about Rebecca’s dream and my grandmother’s phone call.”
“It’s fine, don’t you think? I mean, the grandfather clock can’t fall on me now, can it? And the tall man is obviously Marc Longo, so I’m safe.”
I put my hands on my hips, agreeing with what she’d said but still unsure.
“I’ll be with Alston and Lindsey. And Mr. Farrell said he’d be happy to drive us there and pick us up at the end of the movie before coming back to the party.”
“That’s very nice of him, but still—”
“Please?” she begged. “I’ve been working so hard, studying for the SATs. It will be fun to have something to look forward to afterward. And I promise to be extra careful and keep my head on a swivel.”
I recognized her last remark as the ending phrase Beau used on his podcast.
I sighed. “I guess. I’ll check with your father to be sure. And I’ll expect you to text me when you leave the theater and when you get to Lindsey’s house.”
She ran toward me and surprised me with an embrace. “Thanks, Melanie.” She stepped back. “I’ll need a new dress. Do you think you’ll have time to take me shopping?”
“Why do you need a new dress to see a movie?”
She shrugged. “No reason. But Lindsey and Alston are going shopping with their moms, so I thought it would be nice if you and I did, too. I’ll even pay for my own dress.” She grinned her Jack grin, which she probably knew I couldn’t resist.