But I still couldn’t leave. Though I hadn’t seen Eva in days, nothing had changed, and the knowledge of what Terrance had done to Olivia was still there, but its urgency had faded. I wanted to forget what had happened to Michael. He had, after all, been found safe and unharmed inside the house.
And what if it really was me? What if I had done what everyone thought I had, taking Michael from his bed, putting him in Olivia’s room? It was true that I hadn’t been myself. Maybe the lost time, and the hallucinations—the fox, Olivia’s rape, even Eva—meant that I really was insane.
“Not yet, Nonie. I’ll come soon.”
If I had listened to her, so many things might have been different.
I was in the nursery when I saw Press’s Eldorado come up the driveway and stop in front of the house. The passenger door started to open, but then he quickly got out and hurried around to open it himself.
There was a bit of a fumble and laughter as he tried to help the woman in the passenger seat out of the car; once she was out, I saw that it was Shelley. I suspected that, young and inexperienced as she was, perhaps no man had ever before opened a car door for her. But the bigger question was why she was in Press’s car at all.
She bent to take a small bag from the floor of the passenger seat. When the door was closed again, she stood looking up at the front of the house. If she saw me, she chose not to acknowledge it.
Press took a second, much larger suitcase from the trunk and guided Shelley, again laughing, to the front door.
I waited for him to find me to tell me what was going on.
I stood in the nursery doorway and watched as Terrance carried Shelley’s bags to the bedroom directly across the gallery. When Shelley saw me, she smiled and waved, but looked too nervous or excited to speak. Press had followed them up the stairs, but came straight to the nursery.
Once inside, he closed the door. Michael smiled up at him from his circle of blocks and toys.
“I wanted to surprise you, darling. Shelley’s going to be with us until Nonie gets back so you can get some rest.” He bent down to Michael. “You like Shelley a lot, don’t you, sport?”
Michael looked up quizzically, then he picked up a red block and held it out to Press. “Daddy, block.”
“That’s a good man.” Press took the block and ruffled Michael’s hair. “See? Michael agrees it’s a great idea.”
“You can’t do this.”
He stood up. I was in my stocking feet, and because he was wearing shoes, we stood eye to eye. But he seemed larger than ever to me right then, as though his mass had somehow doubled. I felt small. Worried.
“This is going to make everything easier. She’ll have the room opposite, but she’ll sleep in here with him at night. She’s just a girl, but you know how responsible she is.”
“Is this because of yesterday? You know I’m not the one who put Michael in your mother’s room. You know that!”
Hearing my panicked voice, Michael stopped playing and came to my side. He held out his arms. “Up, Mommy! Up!”
“Do I know that? Does anybody really know that? You were here by yourself.”
“You’re lying. You had something to do with it. You and J.C.; I don’t know what you’re trying to do to me. Do you want to be with her? Is that it?” I was almost shouting now, and Michael was increasingly frantic. “Mommy! Up! Up!” I was shaking.
“That’s beneath you, Charlotte. You need to calm down.”
“Or what?” I bent to pick up Michael, who threw his arms around my neck and buried his face. “Look what you’re doing to Michael.”
“You’ll adjust.” Press’s voice was cold. He didn’t even look at Michael.
“I’ll take him to my father’s house. I’ll take him home.”
“I can’t let you do that. It’s not safe for Michael. Who knows what your father’s involved in? Someone tried to kill him, didn’t they?”
“How can you even think that? He was hit by some idiot driver.” I almost laughed. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Roman Carter?”
“There are things in the world that you don’t necessarily understand.”
“You’re implying that my father is some kind of criminal. And that’s why you don’t want me to take Michael to see him?” I shook my head. “That’s a bizarre fantasy, and I don’t understand why you would use my father like that.”
He shrugged. “What would you rather hear? You need Shelley. You need rest. Rachel agrees.”
“And I suppose Jack does, too?” Everyone in my life believed that I wasn’t capable of taking care of my own children. And perhaps they believed something worse: that I was more of a danger than ever.
“This isn’t about Jack. This isn’t about anyone else but you, Charlotte.”
“If I don’t agree, what happens? Is the same thing that happened to your mother going to happen to me?”
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake. My suspicions about Olivia’s death had been buried so deep that I hadn’t even really acknowledged them. I knew it was absurd to think that Press had had anything to do with his mother’s death, but I wanted to wound him. From the shock on his face, I saw that I had.