Stand-In Wife (9 page)

“And me,” Tilly said. “I have to be kept happy, too.”

The queue moved forward. Over her shoulder Viv glanced at Ross. They didn’t have time for this. Sweat trickled down her spine. Surreptitiously, she undid her coat and flapped it open in tiny bursts, desperate for a draft.

“Okay, let’s talk a deal,” she said briskly. “What will it take for you to be happy?”

“McDonald’s every day?” The question in her voice suggested she already knew the answer.

Viv shook her head. “Today and that’s it. Your mum would kill me if we ate out everyday.” The queue moved forward again.

“I want my friends to come for a sleepover.”

“It won’t work. First we’ve got the funeral and then your mum will be home and she’ll need peace and quiet. But I will take you and your friends to a movie.”

“Laserforce would be better. It’s where you shoot people with lasers.”

“Done.” Viv opened her handbag for her wallet. Why was there a packet of sausages in there? Oh, that’s right— Salsa.

“I wanna stay up late.”

“What time are we talking?” She had no idea when kids were supposed to go to bed.

“Nine o’clock.”

Sounded reasonable. Viv pulled out her wallet, closed her handbag and reshouldered it. “So your normal bedtime is…?”

“Seven-thirty on a school night.”

Lucky she’d checked. “Eight,” she said firmly. “Okay, that’s enough.”

“One more,” Tilly insisted.

Viv folded her arms. “What?”

Tilly stopped looking like Tony Soprano and turned back into a little girl. “I want to phone Mum every day.”

Of course you can.
Viv pretended to consider. “And in return for all this you’ll keep our secret and behave yourself? No more stunts like you just pulled with Ross?”

“Promise.” Tilly held out her hand. “Now we have to shake.”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Viv said sternly.

The little girl looked offended. “I’m a Brownie.”

So blackmail was okay for Brownies, but questioning their word wasn’t? On the other hand, Viv was currently living a lie so who was she to quibble? Sighing, she shook Tilly’s hand.

“Deal.”

“W
HY IS YOUR CELL TURNED OFF
?” Merry demanded as Viv was preparing the kids’ dinner some five hours later. “I’ve been calling you for hours.”

“I told you I’d phone as soon as I had privacy.” Viv navigated the pureed applesauce still splattered around the highchair from breakfast and plonked a new two-liter bottle of milk in the fridge. In total she’d had maybe five minutes alone today, and even then Harry had banged on the bathroom door. According to Tilly, mummies had to leave it open.

“I can’t take your calls when I’m with Ross or Charlie,” she reminded her twin. “Then I was running la— To pick up Harry, and as soon as we got home we exercised Salsa. He’s been shut in the yard all day.” Viv hoped Merry wasn’t all that fond of her spring daffodils.

Far from being grateful, the schnoodle had stubbornly sat on his haunches when Viv had put on his lead, only cooperating when Tilly took over. Their makeshift family had walked to the corner store where Viv had bought some basics for dinner…milk, ground beef, pasta sauce, spaghetti. Most of it had ended up stowed around Harry’s body
in the stroller after the plastic carrier bag was needed as a pooper-scooper.

Viv was heartily tired of poop.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped,” said Merry. “It’s just so frustrating being unable to do anything or help…so much depends on you.”

About to shut the fridge, Viv paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“How would you like to be bedridden and passive when your future’s at stake?”

Okay, maybe the comment wasn’t personal. It was her low blood sugar; she hadn’t eaten since the McNuggets. Grabbing an apple, Viv closed the fridge and returned to the stove. “I’d absolutely hate it,” she admitted. “So what did the surgeon say?” She dumped the minced beef in the pan where onions and garlic were already frying. Smelled almost homey.

“He thinks I might have picked up an infection, they’ve done some blood tests. Anyway, tell me about my kids? Is Tilly coping with Linda’s death? Is Harry still constipated?”

The apple halfway to her mouth, Viv put it down. “Harry’s constipation is cured, believe me.” She heard
brooom-brooom
under the kitchen table where the baby sat in the middle of his circular train track, resisting Viv’s attempt to teach him choo-choo.

“And Tilly’s coping,” she added. “She’s drawing a picture now to put in Nana Lin’s coffin.” Ross’s idea. Viv glanced into the dining room where her niece labored with crayons and card, feet swinging on the chair, her tongue out in concentration. There’d been more tears at the florist’s as reality hit the child.

She’d resisted Viv’s efforts to comfort her until Ross had crouched down and told Tilly that everyone cried when
someone they loved died…yeah, even him…buckets and buckets. Mollified, Tilly had allowed Viv’s hug, cheering up when her aunt asked her to choose the flowers for Linda’s wreath. The result had been a hideous clash of colors but they came from Tilly’s heart, and hopefully Linda was in a place now to appreciate the gesture.

“Tell me everything about your day,” Merry said. “Did anyone suspect?”

Viv stirred the meaty lumps out of the ground beef. “We had a couple of setbacks but your secret’s still safe.”

“What do you mean, ‘setbacks’?”

“Hang on.” Crossing to the dining room door, Viv closed it softly, catching a glimpse of Tilly’s picture. Mum, Dad and the kids all together. Her throat tightened. Returning to the kitchen she picked up the phone again.

“Tilly overheard our conversation this morning,” she told Merry, “but she’s on board—”
at a cost
“—and hanging out to talk to you.” The ground beef started to burn, she turned down the heat. “We’re all going to Skype you after dinner.”

Merry moaned. “My daughter’s involved?”

“I know it’s not ideal,” Viv said, thinking of Tilly’s picture. “But we’re trying to save your kids more heartbreak.”

“Viv, I’m scared. Tell me we’re doing the right thing.”

She turned off the stove and went and sat down. “We’re doing it for the right reasons.” Who was she reassuring here? “And Charlie’s got enough to cope with right now.” They’d passed the point of no return. “Which reminds me…he ended it with Susan last night.”

Stunned silence. “You’re kidding. Really?” Merry laughed, then immediately sobered. “You’re not joking, are you, because this is—”

“It’s true. Susan dropped the bomb this morning. Apparently, he regrets leaping into another relationship, told
her he’s not ready. Did you know Charlie never slept with her?” Not by choice, Viv suspected, but that was beside the point.

“No…gosh…that’s the last thing I’d ask either of them.” Merry laughed again, with the same giddy lilt of their childhood. “How on earth did you find that out?”

Viv opened her mouth, closed it. Harry
brooom-brooomed
an engine over her feet.

Fortunately, her twin didn’t wait for an answer. “Well, then we definitely can’t tell him the truth now. Viv, I never dared hope…” Merry’s voice tripped over itself in her excitement. “You saw how gorgeous she was, didn’t you?”

“Totally gorgeous…and the boobs, Mere.” Both sisters sighed.

“And so nice,” her sister continued. “I tried to hate her but—”

“You couldn’t.”

“I even had them getting married…in my mind…but this! If Charlie can walk away from a woman like Susan then maybe he’s not over me. Maybe—”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Viv warned. “I hate to be the voice of reason but he could change his mind again. He’s all over the place right now. Besides, you have choices, too.” Briefly, she considered putting this delicately. “Would you really want that asshole back, after the way he’s overreacted?”

“It was all my fault.”

“Don’t talk like that. You’re human, Mere, you can make mistakes.”

“No,
you
do that. I’m the sensible one. I should have seen the kiss coming.”

You’re this. I’m that. The personality straitjacket. “These things don’t knock on the door and announce themselves.” Viv steered the conversation to less dangerous waters.
“Where’s the recipe for your raspberry chocolate angel food cake? Tilly wants to make Nana Lin’s favorite for the post-funeral reception. It’s being held here, by the way.”

“You’re hosting it at
my
house?”

Viv explained Ross’s truce ultimatum and waited for sympathy. “What else did you get yourself into?” Merry said.

“Nothing,” she said irritably, “I was very careful. I even made sure you didn’t sing in the choir before I agreed to organize it for the funeral. So what do you do with the singers exactly? Hold the hymns? Organize the organist?” Definitely low blood sugar. She was getting silly.

“I conduct it,” said Merry. “And I
know
I mentioned that on the phone six months ago when I volunteered!”

Viv started to laugh, then stuck a knuckle in her mouth and bit hard.
Hold it together, one of us has to.
“I’ll feign an injury…put a sling on.”

“And then I show up with a broken leg and a bound wrist? Why don’t we just mummify me and be done with it.”

Viv laughed again, letting the hysteria take over. Because this really was very funny. Harry poked his head out from under the table and laughed with her.

“Look, it’s okay,” Merry said quickly. “Don’t panic, I’ll teach you. Two songs in, what, thirty-six hours? It’ll be easy. We’ll practice over Skype. And I’ll send you some links. You can do this, Viv. Okay?”

Tilly came in, wrinkling her nose. “I smell onion. I don’t eat onion.”

“Of course you don’t,” said Viv, still smiling. “That would be too easy.”

“Okay, Viv?” Merry repeated more urgently.

She looked around at her smelly nephew needing a bath,
at the half-cooked dinner full of onions. She still needed to learn the rules of soccer for Tilly’s training session tomorrow. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. “Okay.”

R
OSS WOKE IN THE MIDDLE
of an erotic dream about his sister-in-law, as he was untying the halter on Meredith’s slinky, satin dress prior to taking her on the starched tablecloth he’d swept clear of crystal and cutlery.

Feeling like one sad, sick bastard, he lay in his stepmother’s spare room and waited for his hard-on to subside. Then with a groan he covered his head with a pillow and considered making an appointment with the shrink who’d told him he was in denial about how much the ambush and his buddies’ deaths had affected him. Maybe the dream about Meredith was some kind of twisted release of repressed grief? It spoke to how shaken he was that Ross hoped so.

Remembering the dream’s setting, he shuddered. A wedding. Not theirs, thank God, because Meredith’s dress had been a shimmering pink, more of a bridesmaid’s—

Ross jerked upright. “Son of a bitch.” He’d never desired his sister-in-law but he’d wanted her twin. Except he’d recognized a live shell when he saw one. No, the very idea was crazy. He shook his head to clear it. Viv Jansen was a spiky-haired blonde half a world away.

But his brain was already respooling the past couple of days—the sexy outfit Meredith was wearing the first time he saw her. Meredith, a nurse, fainting at the sight of blood. The thousand hesitations over details she knew like the back of her hand. Not grief—ignorance. He cursed again
recalling the suitcase shoved under the bed. Not leaving. Arriving.

Mind racing, he switched on the light. “Damn it, it’s her. It has to be.” Grabbing his cell, he rang Dan. The twins’ brother, his former troop mate, answered on the fourth ring.

“Ross?” he said sleepily, obviously recognizing his number. “You okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” Now wasn’t the time to grill Dan about the CO’s sudden desire to push Ross into a training role. “I need your little sister’s cell number.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed it’s two in the morning,” Dan complained. “Merry will be asleep.”

“But in New York, Vivienne won’t be.”

There was a long pause. “Now, after all these years, you decide to hit on my sister?” Dan didn’t sound happy about the prospect. Ross’s report card with women generally read, “Would get better grades if he applied himself.”

“Relax, it’s strictly business. Have you heard from her lately?”

“Phoned her last week.” Ross heard a drawer being opened. “She was about to start work on a new show and dodging some lovesick Frenchman she’d given marching orders.” Dan gave him the number. “So exactly what business was that again?”

“When did you last talk to Meredith?” Dan had always been able to instantly tell his siblings apart.

“Yesterday. She said she was helping Charlie out with the funeral and I warned her not to get too involved because things have only just settled down between them.”

Ross’s certainty faded. “And she sounded exactly the same?”

“How else would she sound? Ross, what’s going on?”

“Following a misplaced hunch, apparently. Listen, I’ll call you at a civilized hour.” He needed Dan’s advice on
how to deal with the CO. “Tell Bridezilla the alpha hole apologizes for interrupting her beauty sleep.”

“Jo says you need beauty sleep more than she does and agrees there’s something going on we should know about.”

“You’re newlyweds. Haven’t you got better things to do than pry into my dull life?”

“Come to think of it,” said Dan. “Yeah.” He hung up.

Ross crumpled Viv’s number and went back to bed, making a mental note to call the psych. But he couldn’t fall asleep. To hell with it. He got up, smoothed the crumpled note and dialed Viv’s cell.

“Hello?” said a feminine voice, and Ross breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to be wrong. Before he could speak, she added sharply. “Is that you, Viv? Is everything okay with the kids?”

He let her hang, one second, then two, while he made up his mind what to do. “I’m real sorry, ma’am.” Ross feigned an American accent. “I got the wrong number.”

Cutting the connection, he dressed quickly, then rang his sister-in-law’s cell. “I have to talk to you,” he told Meredith’s semiconscious impersonator coldly. “No, it can’t wait until morning, it’s about Charlie. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

V
IV FILLED THE KETTLE
with water and flicked the switch, ready to cry with tiredness. A yawn caught her, so wide she nearly dislocated her jaw. Enviously, she glanced at Salsa, curled up in his basket in the corner. He’d barely raised his head for a token growl before returning to sleep. Lucky schnoodle.

Had Ross somehow found out? Frowning, she opened a box of tea bags. Except she’d talked to him at ten about the catering choices and he’d been fine. Charlie had already gone to bed, exhausted.

No, he probably wanted to lecture her again about staying away from his brother. She turned away from her reflection, trying not to care that Merry’s dressing gown and old-lady slippers were completely unsexy. Thinking along those lines around Ross Coltrane would only get her into more trouble, and Lord knows, she had plenty enough as it was.

She’d gone to bed at midnight after a frustrating ninety-minute conducting session on Skype with Merry.

“We only have time for a monkey see, monkey do approach,” Merry had said. “I’ve chosen two hymns with simple patterns that the choir knows by heart. All you’ll have to do is stay with them.”

“Oh, is that all I have to do.”

“We’re identical twins.” Merry’s tone had been brisk. She’d cheered up with something to do. “If I have a musical ear,
you
have a musical ear.”

“I saw a documentary where one identical twin was gay and one wasn’t. How do you explain that?”

That hadn’t got her out of choir practice.

Smothering another jaw-breaking yawn, Viv dug two cups out of the mound of dirty dishes piled up in the sink and rinsed them clean. Cleaning the house was tomorrow’s job.

Headlights flashed into the driveway and she hastened to open the front door so Ross didn’t wake the kids by pressing the doorbell, not that he would because Ross seemed to consider the ramifications of his every action, which was a skill Viv wished she could emulate.

He strode up the path without the slight limp that characterized his end-of-day gait. Viv caught herself smoothing her hair and stopped.

“What’s so important we have to talk about it in the
middle of the night,” she complained, closing the door behind him.

“Confessions,” he said so close behind her that she jumped.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Meredith, about why I was so mad when I discovered you were dating Dr. Dick.”

She sighed. “Not this again. I told you, I’m not seeing
Luke.
”

“I believe you. Now.”

“Well, that’s good.” He was still standing very close and she felt a frisson of unease at the way he was looking at her. Hawklike. Intense. As if he was seeing her for the first time. “Anyway, I made tea…” As she turned toward the kitchen, she found herself spun around.

“You see, Meredith.” His grip tightened on her shoulders. “I was jealous.”

“Wh-what?”

“God knows, I’ve struggled against falling for my brother’s wife but I can’t hide the truth any longer. I’m in love with you.” The glint in his eyes wasn’t very loverlike but she was too shocked to notice that more than fleetingly.

“You can’t be,” Viv whispered, then gasped as he released her shoulders and hauled her into his iron-hard arms.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t rip off that prudish dressing gown and make mad passionate love to you.”

Horrified, Viv planted her hands against his chest as he bent to kiss her. “Ross, this is insane, I’m your brother’s wife!”

“Practically ex-wife.”

“Yes, but I’m still in love with him!”

He paused, his mouth inches from hers. “So you say,” he murmured, “but somehow, you don’t sound convincing.”

She averted her face as he swooped and his lips brushed her ear. “But remember Viv liked you!”

“Who?”

“My twin!” She couldn’t keep the tartness out of her voice. “The feisty, fun one.”

Ross raised his head. “Oh, you mean Flea!”

“Flea?” Viv said faintly.

“Yeah, you know…always bouncing around. She’s the annoying itch a guy wants to scratch just to get rid of it so he can get back to more down-to-earth women such as yourself. Don’t play games, Meredith.” His hold tightening until she was plastered against his body. His gray eyes challenged her. “I’ve noticed the way you’ve been looking at me the past few days.”

This was a nightmare. Her worst nightmare. Viv struggled to free herself but she might as well have been in a straitjacket. “I wasn’t…I was…I was…” her brain scrambled for an escape route “…looking at your leg and feeling sorry for you.”

He released her so abruptly she stumbled backward. Then he smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile. “Hey, I’ll take a pity—”

“Ross!”

“Fling,” he finished. “You make me so crazy, Meredith. There are so many things I’d like to do to you right now.” He moved toward her and she darted behind the couch.

“Ross, let’s sit down and talk about this!”

“Why talk when we can act?” He circled right, she scurried left. In one smooth movement, he stepped on and over the couch. His arm shot out and he caught the tie on her dressing gown and started reeling her in. “I’ve got these bondage fantasies.”

“Wait,” she said desperately. “Ross, please wait.”

“Mais, je t’adore,”
he protested, catching her around the waist.

Through her panic, the language registered. Viv froze in his hold. Her eyes met his. “Why are you talking French?”

“I heard you like it. How do I say, ‘I’d like to wring your neck’
en français?
”

“S
O
, R
OSS
,
LONG TIME
no see,” Viv quipped nervously.

He released her in disgust. “Where is Meredith?”

“Not buried at the bottom of the garden if that’s what you’re worried about.” His gaze didn’t waver. Okay, nervous humor wasn’t helping. “She’s in Waikato Hospital recovering from a broken tibia.”

“Is she okay?”

His concern steadied her. Ross might slam Meredith but deep down he still cared about her.

“She’ll recover, physically.” Perching on the arm of the couch, she gestured to the armchair opposite. “Her emotional health now depends on you.”

Ross remained standing. “So I guess that brings us to the ‘why the hell are you impersonating her?’ question.”

Viv dug her trembling hands in the pockets of the velour dressing gown. “First of all,” she managed to say calmly, “she was perfectly entitled to consider all her options and we never expected the…” She paused.

“Hoax?” he suggested. “Fraud? Deception? Scam?”

“
Swap.
Never expected the swap to last this long.” Viv recalled the Lemony Snicket book she’d read Tilly at bedtime. “What happened was a series of unfortunate events.”

His eyes seemed to bore into the back of her skull. “The first being?”

Her fingers found some lint in the dressing gown’s left
pocket and she worried it into a ball. “Merry breaking her leg while she was in Hamilton for a job interview.”

There was a pregnant silence. His expression darkened. “Did Charlie know she was planning to move away with the kids?”

“It’s only an hour and a quarter away…he’d still see plenty of the children. As I said she was exploring her options, and, anyway, she’s decided against it.”

“So that’s a no, then.” He swung on his heel.

Viv straightened. “Where are you going?”

“Where do you think?” He strode toward the door.

Alarmed, she sprang to her feet. “Ross, you have to hear me out.”

“Actually I don’t. Only Charlie does. Unlike you, I stay out of other people’s business.”

She blocked his path. “Says the guy who browbeat me the other day, thinking I was Merry. Come to think of it,” she added on an inspired thought, “if you hadn’t been such a bully I wouldn’t have impersonated her to show you she couldn’t be pushed around, and
none
of this would have happened.”

Incredulous, he stared down at her. “Are you saying this is
my
fault?”

“Partly.” Viv warmed to her theme. “Actually, more than partly. I told Linda who I was but then she died and I fainted and the next thing I’m waking up to hear you telling the cops I was Meredith Coltrane. What was I supposed to do?”

“Gee, I don’t know,” he said sarcastically. “Tell the truth, maybe?”

Viv snorted. “When Meredith was terrified of Charlie hearing about her interview and you threatening custody battles?”

“You’re right.” He slapped his forehead. “What am I thinking? My fault, again.”

“Don’t beat yourself up.” She matched his tone. “If I’d known at the time that Charlie hadn’t cheated on Merry I might have been more tolerant of your childish outburst.”

They glared at each other. Inwardly Viv groaned. What the hell was she doing? She should be placating him, but she hated being treated like an idiot. Especially when it was deserved.

“That’s real big of you to be so forgiving.” Two hands clamped on her shoulders, firmly Ross moved her aside. “Let’s hope Charlie is as magnanimous.”

Viv panicked. “Okay, we’ve got off on the wrong foot…let me explain—”

“Save your excuses for him.” With one hand he jerked open the door, with the other he pulled out his keys.

“Ross.” She touched his hand and he suddenly gripped hers, lifting it to the light. Merry’s engagement and wedding rings sparkled on her finger. His eyes were so full of contempt that Viv squirmed. She felt exposed and vulnerable, a kid caught in a prank instead of a woman trying—however badly—to save a family from further disintegration.

Humiliated, she nearly let him leave. But Charlie would go ballistic if he found out now and, no matter how much Viv privately wished she’d done things differently, there was no going back. She’d leaped over the cliff—convinced Merry to leap with her—and they were wholly reliant on Viv’s wits to parachute them to a safe landing. She’d pulled off the swap for three days, she could do it for three more. But first she had to convince Ross to let her.