Flushing the toilet, I stand on shaky legs and make my way over to the sink to rinse my mouth out then brush my teeth. I feel like I’ve entered some weird twilight zone. My stomach churns again as Dylan’s words play on repeat in my head.
She raped your husband …
My mind refuses to process them. Struggles to wrap itself around the fact that she’d do such a thing. I take a deep breath, rinsing my toothbrush and putting it back in the holder before walking downstairs to finish prepping tonight’s dinner. I pick up the kids from school half an hour later, thankful that Lola isn’t here. I’m not sure I can handle talking yet. And I need to keep this mask on my emotions until the kids leave tonight with my mom and Taylor. They come running out as soon as the bell rings, excited to see their grandmothers and climbing straight in the car while I put their bags in the back. I wave to Trey as he drives out of the parking lot with Sophie making faces out the back window.
“How was your day?” I ask when we finally escape the line of cars all trying to leave at once.
“Amazing,” Greta sings. “I got a ten out of ten on my spelling test.”
“Well done, poppet. That’s so good.”
“Rupert bought in this cool robot for show and tell. It speaks three different languages,” Charlie says with clear awe.
“Oh? That sounds interesting,” I mutter as I flick the turn signal on and turn onto our street.
“Yeah, can I get one?” he asks.
“Um, maybe for your birthday.” Though I am glad he’s interested in toys again. Even if it is a freaking robot.
“Yes! It’s only one month away.” He punches the air in excitement.
One month? Oh damn, it’s almost October. Time sure flies when your life is in shambles.
I pull into the garage, grabbing the kids’ bags as they race inside. I close the car doors and walk in behind them. “Your bags are packed, so if there’s anything you want to take, make sure you grab it. Just not too many things!” I call out when I hear them race each other up the stairs. I unpack their stuff and put their schoolbags away in the laundry room. Once they’re in front of the TV with afternoon snacks, I quickly run the vacuum through then head upstairs to take a shower. Just because I feel like falling apart doesn’t mean I can look that way. My mom is already likely to see beneath the tower of lies we’ve constructed since she last saw us.
After I’ve dressed in one of my favorite purple maxi dresses and a lilac cardigan, I brush and straighten my hair before putting on some mascara. Swiping some nude gloss on, I head downstairs to set the table in the dining room for tonight. We won’t eat until Leo gets home, but our mothers are a whirlwind of action and distraction as soon as they enter the house, so I want to be prepared to prevent them from leaving too late with the kids.
Once I’ve done everything I can, I check the clock on the microwave to find that it’s almost five o’clock. They knock on the door not even a second later, opening it up and letting themselves inside.
“Yoo-hoo!” my mom calls.
“Where are my grandbabies?” Taylor sings, her heels clipping on the floor as she trots down the hall. I exit the kitchen just in time for my mom to engulf me in a hug. She swings me side to side then pulls back, her arms gripping mine to study me. “Beautiful dress, baby girl.”
I try for a soft smile, and her brows tug in a fraction. So I move my eyes to Taylor as the kids run to her, wrapping their arms around her.
“Oomph.” She laughs and gets flattened to the wall.
“Quit being such a hog, and you guys, you told me I was your favorite.” My mom points to her chest and forces an outraged look onto her softly lined face. The kids giggle, coming over to give her a hug, too.
“Mommy said I can bring my makeover kit to your place,” Greta informs Taylor, clapping her hands together.
My mom looks at Taylor, who’s trying hard not to show her displeasure. “Oh, Grandma Tay is going to love that.” My mom snickers.
Taylor scowls at her then catches Greta watching so she paints a big smile on her face and nods her head. Her dark blond hair swishes around her shoulders. Not a gray hair in sight. My mom, however, has embraced it. Half of her blond hair is now streaked with it. But it looks rather lovely, and I’ve always hoped that mine will do the same.
I make them a cup of tea and we walk into the living room, taking a seat as they tell us all about their cruise and then their stay in Europe for the past two months.
“Then she lost our luggage …” my mom says to the kids with a serious face.
“Really?” Charlie laughs, and my heart warms at the sound.
“Oh, yes.” She nods. “She’d lose her head if it wasn’t screwed on, but we already knew that, right?” She nudges him gently in the shoulder, causing another round of laughter.
Taylor merely rolls her eyes, sitting back with an arm around Greta and taking a sip from her tea. “You’re hallucinating. You know it was your fault.” She looks down at Greta. “She tried this new fruit over in France.” Taylor shakes her head solemnly. “Hasn’t been the same since.” Her and Greta’s eyes widen comically at one another, their lips pressed thinly together.
“It wasn’t a new fruit. It was a tomato,” my mom interjects.
Taylor points a finger at her. “And there you go, it’s a damn vegetable.”
My mom rolls her eyes. “It’s always been a fruit.”
And here we go again.
I zone out, thinking that it’s probably a good thing that they live separately so they can have a break from one another. Who am I kidding, though. I know they still see each other almost every day or talk on the phone to ask each other random, silly questions. They’re cute, and I’m happy that they have a real friendship, even with their teasing and brutal honesty, but Christ, when they’re together, it’s best to see them in small doses.
I get up to check on our dinner in the oven, pulling it out just as I hear Leo’s car drive into the garage. I almost drop the tray of baked vegetables. I put them down and bend over the counter, taking a few deep breaths. There’s nothing I can do. Not yet. If I’m going to tell him that I know, it’s obviously going to have to wait. I turn around, grabbing some glasses and the water jug out of the fridge. Turning again, I find him leaning in the doorway, watching me. I can’t even bring myself to say hello, for fear of the wrong words spilling out of my mouth instead. So I try for a smile, hoping it doesn’t look like a grimace, and get back to the task at hand.
I finish bringing the food out, hearing him say hello to the kids and our mothers in the living room while I wash my hands then dry them on a dishtowel as I walk in to get them.
“Oh, smells divine, dear,” Taylor says, taking a seat.
“Yes, well, she learned everything she knows from me.” My mom grins and takes a seat beside me. Greta sits on her other side, between her and Leo, who’s taking off his suit jacket and draping it over the back of the dining chair.
“Is there gravy?” Charlie asks, sitting between me and Taylor.
“Psh, is there gravy …” my mom mutters, winking at him while nudging the little jug closer for him. Charlie grins, picking it up and almost drowning his meat and vegetables with it.
“That’s enough, buddy,” Leo says, taking a seat and rolling up his sleeves.
Charlie huffs but puts it back on the table for my mom to pick up. She puts some on Greta’s plate then her plate before passing it to me.
I look down the table at Leo, watching him take it from his mom and drizzling a little over his dinner before putting it down to grab the salt and pepper. His eyes flit over everyone at the table before he takes a bite of his food.
“You ladies glad to be home?” he asks after he chews and swallows.
“Yes,” my mom says while Taylor says, “For a little while. God, you two really need to do it. Travel, it’s exhilarating and so much fun.”
Leo’s lips curl into some semblance of a smirk as he looks at his mom. “Yeah?” he asks.
She nods eagerly, chewing some food.
“Yeah, until you lose your luggage, get third degree sunburn, swindled by a seventy-nine-year-old man in the airport, and food poisoning while you’re on a cruise,” my mom grumbles.
Taylor scowls at her. “Oh, don’t be such a bore, Renee. You weren’t even the one who got sunburned.” Her eyes turn to me. “Oh, but that was terrible. My skin peeled for weeks.” She mock shivers.
My mom snorts. “Yeah, but I was the one who had to slap aloe vera onto your flaking skin while you whined ungratefully at me. Every damn day. For two weeks,” she deadpans.
A laugh escapes me, and I feel Leo’s eyes on me as I cut into my meat and take a bite. My stomach revolts, and I quickly grab my glass of water, chugging half of it down.
“You all right, dear?” Taylor asks.
My mom reaches over, thumping me hard on the back. “Probably went down the wrong pipe.” I flinch, trying to shove her hand off me.
“I’m fine,” I croak.
“Really, Renee. If someone saw you doing that in this day and age, you’d be locked away for child abuse,” Taylor informs her.
“For trying to save my choking daughter’s life?” My mom guffaws. “I’d like to see them try.”
Taylor laughs. “As would I.”
They both laugh with each other, and I remove my gaze from them to find the kids still eating, their eyes darting to and fro between their grandmothers and then I finally look at Leo. He’s watching me again, his brows tugging in to form a tiny crease between them. My eyes stay glued to his as I struggle to understand why. Why he wouldn’t tell me, why he chose to deal with this all alone, for so damn long. He swallows, but I didn’t see him chew anything, and he averts his gaze back to the conversation carrying on around us.
Clearing my throat, I excuse myself to prepare dessert. I dig out the wine from the fridge, opening it and taking a hearty swig and then another before recapping it and putting it away to bring the cheesecake out.
After dessert is done, I take the kids upstairs for a shower before they leave. We’re quiet, listening to Taylor and my mom talking as they help clean up the kitchen downstairs. I don’t know where Leo is when the kids are in their pajamas and we’re walking back down with their bags, but he needs to come say goodbye to them.
“Ready?” my mom asks.
They nod their heads eagerly then Greta yawns.
“We’ll watch a movie and get you two in bed, I think,” my mom says as Taylor hangs up the dish towel behind her.
They’ll stay at Taylor’s place for the weekend as they usually do when they take the kids for sleepovers. I think they handle them a little better when they’re together. Plus, Taylor’s house is even bigger than Fiona’s. Her face flashes through my mind and I cough.
Oh, my God.
“You all right?” my mom asks quietly, coming to stand beside me.
I nod. “Yeah, just not feeling too well.” It’s not a lie.
She frowns, rubbing my back. “Well, you put your feet up and just relax for the weekend, okay? You need to take care of yourself.”
I force a smile onto my face, walking them all outside and helping them get the kids into Taylor’s Mercedes.
“Be good. No fighting,” I warn them as I kiss their heads.
They both nod, distracted by the iPads in the back of the headrests.
“Love you both.” I blow them a kiss and step back.
“Love you, too!” they call out.
Leo finally emerges from the house, leaning inside the car to kiss them goodbye.
I thank my mom and Renee for taking them, telling them to call me if they need anything.
“We’ll be fine,” my mom insists. “Besides, the queen over there has a cook and a butler that we can always hand them off to if we need to sneak away for a smoke break.” She laughs.
Taylor scowls. “We will do no such thing. Come on, let’s go.” She climbs into the car as my mom winces playfully at me. I kiss her cheek and stand back, trying not to put too much distance between Leo and I, for fear of him disappearing as soon as Taylor’s car is out of sight.
Which is exactly what he tries to do, but I run after him.
“Leo,” I call down the hall once we’re back inside. I flip the lock on the door, slamming it closed behind me.
He doesn’t answer me, but I hear his feet moving around upstairs. I walk up them and head down the hallway to find him in our room, snatching clothes out of drawers and tossing them onto the bed.
My pulse starts ringing in my ears. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?” He walks into our wardrobe and reemerges with a duffle bag, stuffing the clothes inside then walking to the bathroom.
“You’re leaving?” I take a seat on the bed, my hands starting to shake.
“You think I’m going to stay here with you all weekend?” He laughs, putting his body wash in the bag. “Not fucking likely.”
My eyes squeeze closed at his cruel words. “Why tell me I could do something when you didn’t actually want me to do it?”
He sighs, and I open my eyes. “We’ve been over this. I didn’t actually think you’d do that to me, to us.” We stare at each other for a beat, and I bite my thumbnail, not knowing how to spew the words out now that we’re finally alone. But knowing I need to before he goes.
He tears his eyes away and zips the bag up, making his way to the door.
“Wait …” I say quietly.
He doesn’t, just continues out into the hall.
So I inhale and let it all out with a ragged breath, “I know, Leo. I know what she did to you.”