Beyond Midnight (24 page)

H
alf an hour later, Helen was at home, ducking under a barrage of questions from her daughter.

"
Mother!
"
Becky said, scand
alized. "Dinner—with a
man? A rich, good-
looking, famous—single—man? Awe
some!
"

"
Not so awesome,
dear," Helen said calmly, even
though she was thinkin
g it was pretty damn awesome in
deed
"
We talked abo
ut preschools almost the whole
time.
''

Becky was following her
mother around the kitchen like
a hungry seal.
"
What
'
s he
like, what's he like? Was he,
like, cool—or was he geek
y? Wall Street can be geeky, I
bet.
"

"
Not cool. Not geeky.
Somewhere in between. Confused
about parenting. I told him to join t
he club." Helen tossed
a soggy filter filled with coffe
e grounds and replaced it with
a new one in the coffee mac
hine. "Russell!" she yelled as
she pried open the plastic lid to a can of
Folgers
.
"
I can smell the litter box from here! Didn
'
t you change it?
"

"
So, like, did you talk
about sex or anything interest
ing?
"

"
No,
we didn
'
t talk about sex. What
'
s the matter with
you? I told you. It was a business meeting. Pure and simple.
"

Not so pure. Not so simple. All the way home, the very nearness of him had clung to her like the essence of perfume. She found herself surrounded by him, immersed in him, thinking, thinking, thinking of him. It was more than a little terrifying.

"
You know what, Mom? I don
'
t believe you. You look too
...
excited,
"
Becky said.

"
Excited!
"
Helen felt her cheeks getting more excited than ever. She
'
d never been much good at concealing her feelings—Hank had always been grateful for that—and now was no exception.

Scooping coffee out of the can as if she were digging a hole to hide in, Helen laughed all too spontaneously and said,
"
You know what your problem is, Beck? You
'
re bored. I can fix that in a hurry. Have you cleaned the downstairs bathroom yet?
"

"
Why?
"
Becky said instantly.
"
Who
'
s gonna pee there that
'
s so special?
"

"
As I thought. Just do it. What did you two do while I was gone besides make a mess of this kitchen? Fold up that pizza box and put it out with the trash. Honestly. Do I have to leave a list for every little thing?
"

Suddenly Helen could see it all: every dirty fingerprint on the cupboards, every muddy footprint on the floor. The stainless hood above the stove—when the hell had
that
been scrubbed last? My God. The place was a pigsty. She began a headlong pass through the kitchen, doing everything at once.

But not without raising Becky
'
s suspicions. Becky was by far the most observant one in the family. Not a whole lot got past her, which was going to make her one heck of a mother to reckon with someday.

"
What
'
s going on here, Mom?
"
she asked with a sideways look and squinty eyes.
"
You only run around like this when company
'
s coming. Who
'
re you expecting? Is
he
coming over?
"

Russell, responding at last to his mother
'
s shrill summons, arrived through the kitchen door in a clunky shuffle.
"
Who
'
s comin
'
over?
"
he said, heading for the cookie cupboard.

It was the most interest he
'
d shown in someone else in a year and a half.
"
Nobody,
"
snapped Helen.
"
Basement. Litter box.
Now,
"
she commanded.

With a beleaguered sigh and a mournful look, Russell trudged through a door in the kitchen and down the cellar stairs while Becky folded the pizza box on itself, then on itself again, and stood on the edges, flattening them with her hiking boots.

Helen stopped to stare at her daughter
'
s feet.
"
Why do you wear those in the house, Becky? You know they drag sand in by the beachload.
"

Becky shrugged and said,
"
I forgot.
"

"
Forgot? How can you forget ten-pound weights on your feet?
"

The girl tried to joke her way out of it.
"
This way, if there
'
s a fire I
'
ll be ready to run.
"

"
You know what? I
'
m not laughing.
"

"
Ma-a? We
'
re outta litter,
"
yelled Russell from the foot of the stairs.

"
You didn
'
t put it on the list,
"
Helen yelled back down.

"
I forgot.
"

"
For pity
'
s sake. Becky, go out and pick up a bag, would you?
"

"
Now? It
'
s almost nine o
'
clock!
"

"
I don
'
t care. The smell of cat pee is overwhelming.
"

"
I don
'
t smell anything.
"

Helen had the Windex out and was cleaning up the marble counters. She poked furiously at something dried and crusty and said,
"
How can you smell
Enchantra
from a hundred miles away, and not be able to smell urine strong enough to set on fire?
"

Becky was at the back door, pizza box under her arm. She unhooked a black silk windbreaker from the peg rack and slipped it over her black jumper, then paused long enough to fire one last shot.
"
Somebody
'
s
coming. You
'
re only like this when somebody
'
s coming.
"

"
I
'
m only like this because I
'
m so very tired of cleaning up after the two of you. You have your assignments. I shouldn
'
t have to beg, bribe, or nag you to do them.
"

"
Who
'
s
coming over?
"
said Russ with mind-boggling persistence.

Becky turned to her brother and said,
"
Oh
...
this guy. He
'
s one of the parents.
"

"
Becky!
"
said Helen, practically apoplectic by now.
"
Will you let it go?
"

Becky shrugged and off she went. That left Russ, who seemed inclined to seek answers.

"
What parent did she mean, Ma? They never come to our house.
"

Without missing a squirt, Helen went from the counters to the black dishwasher panel, continuing her hand-to-hand combat with drips and stains.
"
I had to see one of the parents tonight about a little girl whose mother died recently. It
'
s kind of serious and the conversation was too long for us to have over the phone.
"

"
Oh. So why
'
s Becky so upset?
"

"
Upset? She
'
s not upset,
"
said Helen testily.

"
So why
'
re
you
upset?
"

"
Oh, for—I
'
m not upset, either,
"
Helen said without daring to look at her son.
"
If you don
'
t have anything else to do, Russ, I can think of lots of things.
"

Mumbling something about homework, Russ backed out of his mother
'
s grip and escaped to his room.

Half an hour later—having changed the litter box herself—Helen retreated to her book-lined sitting room and scanned a shelf or two in search of a popular paperback that she
'
d once bought and scanned. Yes, it was still there:

What Every Toddler
'
s Mom and Dad Should Know: A Basic Primer.

Helen had been assuming that Nat Byrne would be most helped by scholarly treatises on child care and had lent him some of her college texts. After tonight, she decided that he wouldn
'
t be insulted, after all, with a little help in plain English.

Still following some new and compelling urge, she went to the phone and dialed his number; the phone was ringing before she realized that she must
'
ve memorized it from the single call or two she
'
d placed right after Linda
'
s death.

He picked it up on the second ring.
"
Nat?
"
she asked unnecessarily. She realized that she
'
d know his voice anytime, anywhere.
"
This is Helen Evett.
"

"
Helen!
"
he said warmly.
"
I was just thinking of you.
"
It made her heart sing.
"
I hope I
'
m not bothering you at too late an hour,
"
she said.
"
But it occurred to me that I might have just the book for you.
"

She told him the title and added sheepishly,
"
It
'
s.. . a paperback. But it
'
s awfully good, anyway. Really.
"

He laughed, and she knew from the sound of it that they
'
d moved onto some new level of intimacy or friendship or just plain ease. Again she felt her heart lift in song. It was as if a new symphony were about to be played, and the orchestra had begun to tune up. Each little off-beat note was thrilling in its own way.

"
I wanted to thank you again for hearing me out; I really, really needed that time with you,
"
he said frankly.
"
I—well, you inspired me, that
'
s all. Katie deserves more than me, but me is who she
'
s stuck with.
"

"
All grammar aside,
"
said Helen, smiling,
"
I think you
'
re going to do great.
"

He laughed again, embarrassed this time, and said,
"
This is ridiculous. We
'
re spending all this time on me when it
'
s Katie who needs the attention.
"

He was right, which Helen found sobering. What had he actually done for Katie, other than express a certain amount of enthusiasm? Helen tried hard to rein in her warmth, but it was like slowing down a buckboard with two runaway horses.