Never Let You Go(58)

“Okay. I’m ready,” she says.

I spin around. “Ready for what?” She’s sprawled across the bed beside Angus, who rolls onto his back while she scratches his stomach.

“For you to give me the third degree.”

“Now, why I would do that?”

“Because I was with Jared and I didn’t tell you we’re hanging out.”

“Hanging out or dating?”

She shrugs, buries her face in Angus’s neck. He whines and paws at her to keep scratching his belly. “I don’t know what we’re doing. He says he likes me.”

“Do you like him?”

“Yeah, I guess. He’s not like I thought.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It just happened recently and I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it. You know, because you work for them.” She has a blank expression on her face, but I know she wants my approval. I remember how much it meant to me that my parents liked Andrew.

I choose my words carefully. “He seems like a nice kid, but I don’t know him very well.” He’s always polite and friendly when I clean their house, but something about him has always struck me as a bit too … eager. I don’t know if he’s just lonely—I get the feeling his parents travel a lot—but most teen boys don’t want to spend a lot of time chatting with their housekeeper, and yet he often comes into the room and asks me things or talks to me about the weather or whatever.

“It must take you a long time to clean their house,” Sophie says.

“You’ve been there?” I feel another nervous flip in my stomach. Sophie has gone out with a few boys and we’ve had the sex talk, but I never worried about it because she never seemed really interested in anyone before. I knew it was something I’d have to deal with one day, but I hoped it would be when she was away in university.

“Delaney and I were there with some friends. Did you know he’s a photographer?”

I think back over the last couple of weeks, wonder when she was at his house. She was starting to have so many secrets. “Oh, yeah? What does he photograph?”

“Just scenery, oceans, mountains.” Her face is flushed and I know there’s more to this, but I can’t press, not without shutting her down completely. Jared doesn’t strike me as the kind of kid who’d be interested in taking photos of tranquil ocean scenes. His bedroom with its black curtains, chrome desk and night tables, has always reminded me of a single man’s apartment in the city. I don’t know any teen boys who collect abstract black-and-white canvas paintings.

Sophie looks at me seriously. “Why did you really go to the mall?”

“I had a feeling you were hiding something and I was worried about you.”

She turns to scratch Angus again, blocking her face from my view. “Well, now you know.” She doesn’t sound annoyed or defensive, or any of the things I expected, which is making me think she’s hiding something else.

“I didn’t want to tell you this at Christmas,” I say, “but the morning after my party, I found a wrapped box on my windshield. Your father left me a CD.”

She rolls over, sits up straight. “How do you know it was from him?”

“They’re all songs that he picked for our wedding reception. I dropped it off at the police station.” Corporal Parker hadn’t noticed anything when she walked around the house—no signs of attempted entry, no footprints in the snow—just “a big hairy beast trying to tear me apart through the window.” I explained about Angus and she said a dog was a great idea.

Sophie’s eyes are wide, her mouth parted. She presses her hand to her heart for a moment like it’s beating fast, then she meets my eyes and quickly pulls her hand away, but it’s too late.

“You’ve seen him again,” I say.

“No.” She turns to Angus and strokes his back. He wiggles closer, paws at her leg.

“Please don’t lie to me.”

“You said you would kick me out.”

“I said that because I was scared after he broke into our house. I was trying to protect you. I’m not going to kick you out, but I need to know if you’ve been speaking to him.”

“He didn’t break in. He was in Victoria packing his stuff.”

“He’s not going to admit it.”

“But he agreed to the peace bond. Why would he risk going to jail?”

“People like him don’t think of consequences. They act in the moment. I never called the police on him in all the years we were married, so he probably thinks I won’t follow through.”

I can see the truth settle into her mind, the disappointment that follows. Her shoulders slump. “I really thought he’d changed, Mom. He said he’d stay away from you.”

“He can’t help himself. He’ll keep trying to find a way to get at me one way or another.”

She looks so sad, her green eyes watery pools. “He made me a beautiful wooden box.” I flinch as I remember the wooden jewelry box he’d made me one Christmas. Now he’s playing the same games with my daughter. But I can’t tell her that, can’t hurt her more.

“It’s still a beautiful box.”

“I won’t see him again.” Her voice breaks, and I hate that she has to make this choice.