The Guests on South Battery (Tradd Street #5)(70)
“Why are you letting him do that?” Sophie asked, watching JJ gnaw on the metal safety bar.
“You said we should let our children touch things so they’re exposed to germs.”
She reached over and gently lifted JJ’s head. “Within reason. That’s metal. Why are you letting your baby chew on metal?”
I whipped out a cloth diaper from the diaper bag—Jayne kept it well stocked according to my checklist I kept next to it in the mudroom. At least that was one thing she did according to my instructions. While Sophie was busy hoisting Skye up in the swing to keep her from slipping out one of the leg holes, I knotted the clean and bleached diaper around the safety bar just in case JJ felt like chewing on it again.
We resumed pushing, enjoying the quiet morning in the park and watching off-leash dogs running in circles as if they couldn’t believe their luck at being set free. I’d brought General Lee, Porgy, and Bess here once, but the puppies had been insistent on running in opposite directions, and General Lee was torn among trying to supervise them, and barking them into submission, and chasing something—or someone—that only he could see. I’d been more exhausted than they had when we returned home, and I’d sworn to never do that again.
“So, how’s Jayne working out as a nanny?” Sophie asked. She had opted to share parenting duties with her husband, Chad, an art history professor at the college, instead of hiring a nanny, and the two of them took turns wearing baby Skye while they taught classes. I had no idea what they planned to do once the baby was big enough to walk, but I was sure it would be as unappealing to me as wearing my baby to work.
“All in all, pretty great,” I said, remembering the broken night-light, the rearranged nursery, and the incomplete spreadsheets. “The children really respond to her and seem to love her, so that’s all good.” I could see her preparing to ask a more pointed question, so—always one to avoid conflict—I said, “And Jack says she has the patience of Job dealing with the twins.” He’d added “and you,” but I refrained from mentioning that part to Sophie.
“It doesn’t bother you that she’s so attractive?” Sophie managed to squeeze in.
There. She’d said it. The way Sophie could read my mind was pretty close to psychic. It was why she was my best friend. Because she and I both knew that I could never avoid the ugly truth when she was around. But that didn’t mean that I wasn’t going to try.
“Is she?” I said. “I guess she’s pretty, in an all-American athletic kind of way. I don’t think blond is her natural hair color, so she’s probably closer to average when she wears her hair naturally.”
Sophie responded with raised eyebrows.
“Come on, Sophie. She’s the nanny. So what if she’s attractive?”
She sighed. “I think I should read your tarot cards again.”
“Why?”
“Because I think there are certain . . . undertones . . . in your life that you should be aware of. I just get these weird vibes from Jayne. It doesn’t mean anything, probably, and most likely it’s just because she looks so darn familiar, but I can’t place it. That’s probably what’s so unsettling to me, not that I think there’s something going on.”
I stopped pushing. “Going on?”
She waved her hand in the air. “That didn’t come out right, either. What I meant is that Jayne’s uncertain background and the way she looks so familiar just give me pause. I think I’ll be happier than even she will be if and when Jack figures out why Button Pinckney left her the house. And I’m sure that what I saw was exactly what they said it was.”
“Excuse me?”
“That didn’t come out the right way. I swear I’m morphing into Rebecca here. What I meant to say is that a couple of days ago I dropped by to say hello to you and to ask Jayne a question about the new kitchen we’re putting in—if she wanted to keep the servants’ bells as a piece of artwork. She and Jack were, oh, there’s really no better way to put this, but they had their arms around each other standing right there in the middle of the foyer—I let myself in because the doorbell wasn’t working again. They were each holding a golf club, and there were plastic cups and golf balls all over the place. Jack said she was teaching him a trick shot.”
“A trick?”
“Look, Melanie, I’m sure it’s exactly as they said. Jack loves you, and would never do anything to compromise that. But she is attractive and she’s living under your roof. Don’t get me wrong—I like her, too. There’s just something . . . uncanny about her.” She shrugged. “I just wanted to let you know.”
I felt ill all of a sudden. “I think I should go home. I need to take a shower before work, and it takes forever these days to find something in my closet that fits.” I turned away, embarrassed to find myself so close to tears.
Sophie lifted out Blue Skye and tucked her into her front carrier. “I’m here anytime for a tarot reading. Just let me know.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said, strapping the babies back into the stroller. “I’ll call you.”
After transferring the babies and stroller into the Volvo, I drove home slowly, my thoughts warring between anger and tears before eventually settling somewhere between rational thought and incredulity. I was a big girl now. The new, mature Melanie. I could discuss anything with Jack because I trusted him. We were married. Life partners. I wasn’t the same insecure Melanie Middleton he’d first met, the woman who’d fake a foreign accent just so she could pretend to be somebody else on the other end of the phone.