Only Ever You (12 page)

More drops of rain. Jill shifted Sophia in her arms. “Can you show us how to get out of here?” He led the way quickly through the rest of the maze, talking the whole time about how much work he’d had to go through to get the maze built, while Jill barely listened. The few drops of rain became a sprinkle, and if that rumbling was any indication, they were at most minutes from a major downpour.

They emerged from the maze just as the storm clouds opened and Jill, along with everyone else, made a run for the house. “Pony!” Sophia protested, wriggling in her mother’s arms. “I want to ride the pony!”

“Here, let me take her,” Andrew offered, lifting Sophia from Jill’s arms. “You don’t want your princess dress to get ruined do you?” he said to Sophia.

They hurried up the wide stone steps onto the veranda and through the French doors behind a group of laughing adults and children. Andrew put Sophia down at her mother’s feet. “There you go, sweetie—nice and dry.”

“So where do you keep this gun collection I keep hearing about?” a balding man Jill vaguely recognized said to Andrew. Paige was passing by with a tray full of Halloween-themed cupcakes and grimaced.

“Just make sure none of the kids are around,” she said to her husband. Then she rolled her eyes at Jill. “Boys and their toys.”

Jill hoped that this was one passion that David wouldn’t share with Andrew. He’d gone target shooting with him a few times, but so far he’d expressed no desire to own a gun of his own.

“I want to ride the pony,” Sophia whined, pulling on Jill’s shirt. “I want the pony!” She tried to go back out the door, but Jill pulled her away.

“Not now,” she said, bending down to look Sophia in the face. “It’s a thunderstorm right now, we can’t ride the pony in the storm, it’s not safe.”

Sophia dropped to the floor, kicking and screaming, her face flushed like a ripe apple. “Pony! Pony! I want the pony!”

“Stop it!” Jill snapped. She was conscious of other parents staring at them, at her. She knelt and hauled Sophia up, holding her firmly. “We’re not going to ride the pony at all if you don’t stop screaming.”

This only made Sophia’s wails louder. She kicked and flailed and managed to hit her mother in the nose. Jill reeled in pain, clutching at her face and letting go of Sophia in the process. The little girl immediately darted past another group coming in the door and ran back out into the storm.

“Damn it all!” Jill jumped up, one hand still holding her nose, and pushed past the crowd to go after her. She found Sophia running across the wet lawn toward the pony, which was tethered to a post, head down, enduring the rain while his minder huddled under an umbrella nearby. Lightning arced across the sky. “Get back here!” Jill yelled, but the thunder drowned her out. Fear quickened her pace. She lunged for Sophia, but just as she touched her small shoulder Jill slipped on the sopping grass and fell to the ground, pulling her daughter down with her. Sophia promptly started crying again and Jill struggled to her feet, pulling Sophia up, too. “This isn’t safe,” she said over her daughter’s cries, hauling her back toward the house just as another bolt of lightning crackled overhead, illuminating a crowd of partygoers standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows watching them.

*   *   *

“It’s no big deal,” David said later, after she’d endured the stares and whispers of other guests and after they’d been fussed over by Paige, who offered Jill a change of clothes, only to rescind that offer seconds later, since they probably “wouldn’t fit.” Several hired helpers brought them towels, which were quickly smeared with muddy streaks. A lifetime later, though it was probably only twenty minutes, they were finally, blessedly, heading home.

“Easy for you to say—you weren’t there.” No, while Jill had been dealing with their child, David had been talking Glock and Smith & Wesson with Andrew. “I can’t believe Paige lets him keep guns in the house.”

“They’re locked in a safe and he keeps his study locked, too.”

Jill glanced back at Sophia fast asleep in her car seat wearing just her little undershirt and panties. Her face and hair were sticky with cotton candy, the mud-soaked princess costume on the floor at her feet, and her beloved wand still clutched in one small fist. She looked angelic. Jill sighed. “I’m sure I’ll laugh about this someday.”

“Yeah,” David said, sounding relieved. He chuckled. “It is pretty funny—”

“I said someday, David. Not tonight.”

“Sure, okay.” He drove with one hand, reaching out to stroke her hair with the other. “Ooh, what is that?” He lifted his hand away, trying to peer at his palm and the road at the same time.

“Probably mud.”

He sniffed, nose wrinkling. “Actually, I think it might be pony—” He stopped abruptly and reached for a tissue from a box in the center console, wiping it off. The BMW swerved a little.

“Are you saying I have pony shit in my hair?” Horrified, Jill grabbed tissues and swiped at her head.

“No, probably just mud.” David stared scrupulously ahead.

“Oh my God! It is shit!”

“It’s no big—”

“David, if you tell me it’s no big deal again, I swear I’m going to smear pony crap all over you!”

“Okay, okay—calm down.” He slowed to turn on to their street. The front lights glowed from several neighbors’ houses. A flash of lightning and Jill pictured again the faces of all those people crowded at the window watching her struggling with Sophia.

David pulled into the garage and shut off the motor. “You go ahead and take a shower—I’ll give Sophia a bath.”

“Thanks.” Jill tried not to touch anything as she got out of the car. “Be careful, she’s probably covered in it, too.”

David unlocked the back door and reached in to the car seat. “We’re not afraid of a little equine excrement, are we, Sophia?”

Jill trudged into the house, still feeling upset and embarrassed. What must those people think of her and her daughter? That Sophia was a spoiled brat? That Jill was a terrible parent? She’d certainly given them lots to talk about.

The upstairs hall was dark, which was the only reason she noticed light pouring from under the door of the spare bedroom. Strange. They were almost never in that room; it was set up as a guest room, but they mostly used it for storage. Jill opened the door and looked around. One side of the double closet stood open. Jill looked inside. Extra bedding sat gathering dust on the shelves, and some of her dresses and the tux that David wore approximately once a year hung in garment bags from the rod. They kept nothing else in there, so why was this even open? Had the cleaners been in there? A few metal hangers pinged as she slid the door closed. She looked around the rest of the room. An old clock ticked quietly on the dresser. The duvet on the bed seemed a little rumpled, as if someone had sat on it. She must have brushed against it, Jill thought, pulling it straight and smoothing the cloth with her hands. One more look around, before she switched off the light and pulled the door closed again. Odd.

She continued down the hall to the master bathroom, shedding her filthy clothes on the tile floor, and sighing with relief as she stepped under the warm spray of the shower. She took her time, shampooing her hair twice, wishing it were that easy to wash away the entire evening. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to look some of those people in the eye again.

Finally pony free, clean, and more relaxed, Jill slipped on her robe and hurried down the hall to the main bath, where she found David kneeling by the side of the tub, washing Sophia.

“Hi Mommy!” Sophia grinned up at her, fully recovered.

“Hey, feeling any better?” David smiled at her. He lifted Sophia from the tub, wrapping her in a towel. She looked like a little cherub, all peachy pink from her bath, hair sticking out in all directions. He looked handsome, kneeling there with his shirt-sleeves rolled up, his hair falling forward into his eyes. Jill leaned down and kissed him. He pulled her to him with wet hands and kissed her again, lingering.

The buzzing of his cell phone interrupted. David let go to slip the phone from his pocket, but he shoved it back when he saw the number. “I’ll call them back.”

“Go ahead,” Jill said. “I can finish with this little madam.”

“I’m not madam,” their three-year-old chirped, “I’m—”

“Sophia,” Jill and David finished with her. They all laughed.

“You sure?” David said, but he was already on his feet with the phone in his hand.

“I’ll put her to bed; you go.”

He thanked her with another, faster, kiss as she took the towel from him. “Here you, lift up, sweetie.” Jill dried under Sophia’s arms and around her neck where the hair continued to drip. She pressed her head in the towel, rubbing gently while Sophia giggled, and finished with combing her hair. “There. You’re all set. Go get your pj’s on.” She shooed her playfully out the door and Sophia ran giggling down the hall to her room.

Pajamas were rejected in favor of a nightgown, which Sophia wriggled into with only a little help. “Okay, time for bed,” Jill said, pulling back the covers. She wasn’t surprised when Sophia bypassed her and ran to the bookshelf instead, hauling a familiar book back to Jill and thrusting it into her hands. “Story, Mommy!”

“What’s the magic word?” Jill prompted, putting the book aside for a moment to get Sophia into bed and tuck her under the covers.

“Please!” Sophia snuggled against Jill, who sat on the edge of the bed and opened the picture book that was her daughter’s favorite. “On the night you were born,” Jill began, no longer having to look at the words, but turning the pages so Sophia could enjoy the pictures. When she got to Sophia’s favorite part, the little girl chanted the lines along with Jill, “until everyone heard it and everyone knew, of the one and only ever you!”

By the time the story was finished, Sophia’s eyelids were drooping, but she reached for a hug as Jill bent to kiss her good-night, mumbling, “You’re my one and only ever mommy.”

“And you’re my one and only ever Sophia.” Jill held her tight. “Sweet dreams.” She checked that the night-light was on before switching off the room light and pulling the door almost closed behind her.

As she stood outside Sophia’s room, waiting a minute to make sure that she settled into sleep, Jill heard a door close downstairs. David must be in his study. Had he finished the call? Jill walked to the head of the stairs and listened for the familiar sounds of David locking up for the night, but she heard nothing. Maybe he was still on the phone.

She padded barefoot downstairs and crossed the cold slate entry tiles to get to his study. There were no voices. She tapped quietly before opening the door. The lights were off. If her husband had been in there, he’d left. “David?” she called, closing the door behind her. There was no answer. She wrapped her robe more tightly around her as she walked toward the kitchen and the back of the house.

The kitchen was dark. She reached for the lights, switching on the patio ones as well, and cried out as something moved outside the French doors, jumping when she spotted an inquisitive raccoon. “Shoo!” She rapped the glass and he scurried off into the darkness. Jill stood there for a second, puzzled. Maybe it was the raccoon she’d heard, though she could swear it had been a door closing. It had been a click. Definitely a click.

Jill pulled a bottle of Pinot Grigio from the fridge and poured a glass. Something creaked like footsteps at the front of the house and Jill dropped the glass. It shattered on the tile floor, spraying wine and shards everywhere. “Oh shit!” She knelt to pick up the biggest pieces of glass, crying out when a large shard sliced two of her fingers. Coin-size drops of blood spotted the tile floor, then the sink basin as she ran the cuts under water. Just small, thin cuts, but they bled so much. She bound them with a paper towel before cleaning up the mess with a broom and dustpan and then going over it again with a dish towel to mop up the blood.

When it was finally clean she headed back upstairs with two more glasses and the open wine bottle, bare feet moving soundlessly over the carpet.

David stood in the walk-in closet with his back to her, talking on his cell phone. “No. Absolutely not.” He rubbed his forehead, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Because it can’t happen again.” She set the wine bottle and glasses on the bureau and David whipped around, face ashen. He said, “I’ve got to go,” and pushed the off button. “Christ, Jill, how long have you been standing there?”

“I just got here.” Jill poured a glass of wine and held it out. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. Who on earth was that?”

“Nobody important.” David slipped the phone in his pocket and took the wine glass. “Thanks. Did Sophia get to sleep okay? I didn’t want to open her door and risk waking her.”

Jill nodded. “She’s out—it was a long day.” She poured her own glass of wine and took a sip. “It didn’t sound like nobody.”

“Who?” David took a sip and put his glass down on the dresser. He focused on unbuttoning his shirt.

“The person you were talking to—it sounded important.”

“Trust me—it was nothing interesting. Just work.” He saw the makeshift bandage on her hand and grabbed her wrist. “What happened?”

“Nothing, I broke a wine glass.”

“How did you do that?”

“Scaring myself.” She told him about the strange click and then hearing what she’d thought sounded like footsteps.

“You probably just heard me or Sophia. Sound travels.”

But Jill remembered something else. “Did you go in the guest room today?”

David slipped off his shirt and balled it, tossing it in the hamper. “No. Why?”

“The light was on in there.”

He took another sip of wine. “So? One of us must have left it on from the last time we went in there.”

“I’m never in there.”

David shrugged. “Maybe I went in to get something.”

“What? There’s nothing of yours stored in there except your tux.”

“Okay, so maybe the cleaners left it on.”

“They don’t clean that room most of the time. It doesn’t need to be cleaned. And the closet door was open, too.”

David set down his glass and rested his hands on her shoulders, massaging lightly. “Hon, c’mon. You had a rough day and you’re letting your imagination run wild.” His hands moved from shoulders to neck. He brushed her wet hair out of the way and bent down to kiss the tender skin at the nape. “You need to unwind.”