Such a Beautiful Family: A Thriller(16)

“You’re welcome,” Jane said. “Next time I’ll get you scented candles.”

“No vanilla,” Nora said with a laugh. “Seriously, though, no need to spoil my family or me.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I’ll pick up Hailey after school. One of the reasons I accepted your job offer was because of the flexible hours, which give me a chance to see my kids more often. They’re growing so fast, and I don’t want to miss a thing.”

“Oh, I see.” Jane exhaled. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to keep sticking my nose into your business; it’s just . . . well, I’m so grateful to have you as a friend. I only meant to help. But I’m not doing a very good job of being your friend, am I?”

“Don’t be silly,” Nora said, already feeling like an ungrateful heel. “You’re amazing. A little too amazing sometimes, but still amazing.”

“So I didn’t overstep my boundaries by cooking a meal for your family?”

She hesitated before saying, “Of course not.”

Jane plunked a hand on her hip. “Tell me the truth.”

Nora swallowed. “Okay. I’m sorry. The truth is I did feel a pang of jealousy seeing you enjoy a meal with my family when I wasn’t there.” She took a breath. “I was worried about being friends with my boss, and now I know why. I want to be myself, but I’m afraid of disappointing you, letting you down, and making you regret hiring me.”

“No. Stop,” Jane said. “This is my fault. I need to learn boundaries.”

Nora nodded. Jane was right about that.

Silence floated between them before Jane turned to open her car door.

“I’ve hurt your feelings, haven’t I?” Nora asked. Exactly what she’d been afraid of doing.

Jane shook her head. “It’s not your fault. It’s all on me. This is how I scare people away. I’m needy, and your family is so kind and inclusive . . . and I thought you must be so busy with two kids and a husband, and I just wanted to help take the load off for a day.”

Nora felt horrible. As she should. “I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were only trying to help, and here I am making you feel bad about it.” She met Jane’s gaze. “Let’s pretend we never had this conversation and start over.”

“Really?”

Guilt rolled over Nora for not only hurting Jane’s feelings but wishing in that moment that Jane had never reached out to her with a job offer. Her relationship with Jane, in such a short time, felt like a wild roller-coaster ride. Despite all that, she said, “Really.”

“You’re the best friend a girl could have.” Jane opened her arms, and Nora hesitated before stepping closer. Jane wrapped her long, slender arms around Nora and pulled her so close that Nora’s left cheek was pressed against Jane’s perfect breasts. Nora smelled a hint of floral with musky notes; the fragrance wasn’t aggressive or overwhelming, but being held this way felt awkward, restrictive, and it made Nora feel vulnerable. And yet she didn’t move, figuring one slightly aggressive hug wasn’t going to kill her.

When Jane finally let go, Nora’s relief was palpable. And that made Nora sad. She should be feeling happy to have a friend like Jane—a friend she could be honest with, someone who would be there for her when she needed help. A friend she could trust.

But Nora felt none of that. Perhaps she was being too hard on Jane, and true friendship would come later.

Jane climbed in behind the wheel of her BMW.

Nora waved goodbye as she drove off, determined not to allow herself to feel guilty about what she was feeling. Maybe this was exactly why Jane had a difficult time making and keeping friends—she tried too hard to make everyone like her.

Nora headed back to the house. Someone had let Tank inside. Excited to see her, Tank rushed to greet her, his bottom wriggling. Nora scratched Tank’s rump just above the tail. “You’re a good dog, Tank.”

The dog’s toenails clicked against the wood floor as he followed Nora up the stairs. She made a mental note to bring Tank to the groomer, but right now she wanted to check on Trevor. While sitting at the dinner table, Nora had noticed his pale face and downturned lips, and it troubled her.



Trevor reached for his desk lamp and flipped the switch off. Even with his door open, it was pretty dark. He started counting. “One . . . two . . .” His eyes shot open, and he flipped the light back on. His heart was racing wildly inside his chest. He couldn’t even count to three.

Even though he was seeing a therapist, and she was nice and everything, she really hadn’t helped him much. In fact, nothing had changed since he’d nearly drowned. He’d always been what his mom referred to as “fragile” as far as being afraid of the dark, and normal kid things, like thinking there was a monster under the bed waiting to grab his foot if he climbed out of bed. When he was eight or nine, he used to wake up in the middle of the night in a state of terror. He would shout and scream as he ran through the house to wake everyone up, certain there was an intruder in his room. The incident in the pool, though, had changed everything. He avoided going out at all and spent the majority of his free time in his room. He used to bring their dog, Tank, for long walks. Lately his mom or sister did it.