The Stranger in the Mirror(54)
??45??
Cassandra
“Mommy, Mommy, did you hear me?”
I look down at Valentina, who’s tugging on my shirt.
“Sorry, sweetie. What is it?”
“I’m hungry. You said you’d make me breakfast.”
I’ve been even more distracted since Gabriel’s visit yesterday, replaying our conversation over and over in my mind, hoping I’ve convinced him that it’s really over. I don’t want Julian to know that he came here. It would serve no purpose except to upset him, especially if he knew how hard it was for me to push Gabriel away. Julian is doing so much to help me and care for me; the last thing I want is to hurt him.
I cut some banana and apple for her cereal and sit down across the table from her.
“Sorry, sweetie. What did you say?”
I try to focus as she talks, but my mind continues to wander.
“What are you going to read to my class next week?” she asks.
I snap to attention. What is she talking about? “Next week?”
“It’s your turn to read. Remember?”
“Yes, yes, of course.” I have no recollection of this. “What time again?”
She shrugs.
“Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out,” I tell her. I’ll call one of the other moms and get the details. She finishes her breakfast and goes back to her bedroom to get dressed. I go upstairs and pull out my journal. Nothing about the class reading. I’ve been writing things down—everything I do, where I’ve put things, details or stories that Julian and Valentina have told me. I can’t let Julian know how much I’m slipping, so I keep the journal in the guest-room closet, hidden beneath a pair of old boots in a shoebox from my Philadelphia days. I must have forgotten about going to Valentina’s class next week. I feel sick. I still haven’t found the watch Gigi gave me, but I did find the book Valentina made for me. When I took the recycling from the kitchen out to the garage, it was sitting in the large bin, folded in half. I grabbed it and took it to the kitchen, wrapped it in a tea towel, and hurried to the bedroom with it, putting it safely into a bottom dresser drawer under a pile of folded clothing. I don’t know how it got into the bin, but I can’t tell Julian. What would he think?
He is leaving this morning for a conference in New York and will be staying overnight, returning tomorrow afternoon. This will be the first time he’s away since my return, and I hate the thought of sleeping in our bed without him next to me. But I’ve planned a fun Saturday with Valentina.
I’ve just turned the coffee on as he comes up behind me, puts his arms around me, and kisses the back of my neck. “I’m going to miss you,” he says.
I turn around and put my hands on his shoulders. “Me too,” I say, and stand on tiptoe to kiss him.
Over breakfast, Julian tells me about the paper he’s just published and what he is going to talk about during his session. His acute intelligence never fails to impress me. It’s no wonder he’s so well regarded in his field. After a second cup of coffee, I walk to the entrance hall with him and take his overcoat from the hall closet, folding it over my arm while he kneels down to open his briefcase. He shakes his head and looks exasperated. “Damn. I left my phone upstairs. Stupid,” he says, and bounds up the stairs.
In a few minutes he’s back.
“All set?” I ask, and hand him his coat.
“I think so,” Julian says as he puts it on. He fishes in his pocket, frowns, and then tries the other pocket, then feels around in his jacket pockets. “Hmmm,” he says, and looks around.
“What is it?” I ask.
“My car keys. They were in my pocket.”
“Are you sure?” I say, wondering if he’s getting forgetful like me.
“Yes, I’m positive.” He checks the pockets again. “Doesn’t make sense.” He shakes his head and takes the second set of Jaguar keys from the drawer in the console table. “I’ll look for them when I get back. I’m already late.”
We kiss again, and I stand in the doorway waving until his car is out of sight. As I shut the door, I feel a bit dejected at his departure. I try to shake it off, heading upstairs to dress, telling myself that today will be a good day with my daughter. It’s only one night, and before I know it Julian will be home. Valentina and I are going to the Children’s Museum this morning, then having lunch out. She asked if we could have pizza for dinner, and I told her I thought that was an excellent plan.
After I’ve showered and dressed, I go to Valentina’s room, opening her door a crack. When I see that she’s dressed and sitting on her bed reading, I open it all the way and walk in. “You’ve been quiet as a mouse. How long have you been up?”
“Not long. I only read one book.” She closes her book and jumps off the bed. “We’re going to the museum now, right?”
“Yup. And Christmas shopping after that. I love what you’ve picked out to wear.”
She’s wearing a hot-pink turtleneck sweater, and a pair of brown-and-white cowboy boots. I watch as she brushes her hair and pulls it back with a purple-sequined headband.
“You look marvelous,” I tell her, and we hold hands as we go down the stairs together.
“You do too, Mommy. But you should wear your cowboy boots too. Then we could match.”