Eliza Starts a Rumor(16)

The kids were psyched that their parents were throwing a party in their honor, but if they had gotten wind of the Hamilton plan they may have broken out in song, protesting: “I am not throwing away my shot!” Kayla had played the soundtrack so often her senior year of high school that the whole family knew every word. Of course, Eliza was too far gone at this point to sit in a crowded Broadway theater.

It had been six weeks since Eliza and Luke had brought the twins to his alma mater, the University of Wisconsin, and six weeks since the triggering event from graduation prompted a severe panic attack at the Madison Bed Bath & Beyond. There, another shopper told the manager that a hysterical woman in the bathroom needed help. The two strangers somehow calmed her down enough for her to inconspicuously rejoin her family. It had been six weeks since she had retreated to the safety of her home, and aside from yesterday’s excursion, nearly six since she’d left it.

She looked over the dining room table. No amount of crustless spinach quiche could assuage her guilt.

Family friends with younger kids and a few cousins were the first to arrive. Eliza sent the kids out back to toss a football and play on the swing set. Luke had wanted to tear it down years ago when the twins outgrew it, but Eliza had insisted they keep it. At times like this she was glad she did. She watched the children through the kitchen window, flashing back to that time in their lives when the swing set was king. She’d loved those days of being able to watch their every move. She often found herself longing to have them back.

Luke entered the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her from behind. She was so lost in her happy memories that she welcomed his embrace. It may have been the first time since the twins’ graduation that she had. It was also the first time he acknowledged their lost connection. He spun her around and kissed her warmly on the lips.

“I’ve missed you, Eliza.”

“I’m sorry—I just haven’t felt very . . . sexy lately.”

“I wasn’t talking about sex. I’m just talking about . . . us.”

She of course knew what he was talking about. The space between them that had always been filled with peace and serenity felt suddenly closed off. She knew she was the one who had erected the barrier, but in all fairness, it didn’t feel like Luke made much of an attempt to break through. Kevin came into the kitchen, interrupting what could have been the start of a long-overdue conversation. It was fine, as it certainly wasn’t the time or place for it.

“Good morning, Momma. I need coffee!” he whined, stretching out the “eeeeee” in “need” to pad his plea. Eliza smiled. She realized that he must be fixing his own coffee at school, but she didn’t mind. She loved being needed. From his eyes she could see he was suffering from more than exhaustion.

“Don’t tell me, you kids went out last night after Dad and I went to sleep.”

“Yup. We went to the Buckboard.”

The Buckboard was the local watering hole where the high school kids hung out and drank. Some parents were against them going there—there had even been a huge back-and-forth on the bulletin board about it years ago—but in contrast to her usual m.o. as a helicopter parent, Eliza never cared. She felt that it was safer for her kids to buy a drink or two at a bar in town with their fake IDs than to binge-drink ten in someone’s basement. Plus, the advent of Uber had nearly eliminated her concerns about their driving under the influence.

Eliza handed Kevin two cups of coffee.

“Bring one up to your sister and tell her to get down here ASAP.”

She was happy to delegate, as waking Kayla was Eliza’s least favorite parenting responsibility. Plus, even at nineteen, Kevin was delighted to have permission to annoy his sister, evident in his devilish smile as he left the room.

“I forgot to tell you, I invited the new neighbors,” Luke said, nonchalantly.

Eliza turned ashen. He noticed.

“Uh-oh. Did I goof?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she lied, realizing for the first time that she hadn’t mentioned any of what she had seen or done to Luke. Which made her realize that the whole thing was really not all right. Luke had a true moral compass, and if it was kosher she would have told him for sure.

Luke helped her carry more muffins to the table when the doorbell rang. As if on cue, it was the neighbors. Well, half of them at least. Mr. Smith.

“Hi, I’m Joe Smith, from next door,” he declared with an outstretched arm, a bottle of rosé, and an excuse regarding his wife. “I’m afraid Ashley can’t make it. When I left, she was in a dark room nursing a migraine.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Luke commiserated. “Eliza has developed migraines too lately. Sometimes she can’t leave the house because of them, right, honey?”

It took Eliza a second to remember that, on multiple occasions, she had used a migraine as an excuse to stay home. She looked at her husband’s face. It showed genuine concern for her suffering. Eliza felt awful.

“Yes, I have. They’re no fun. Hopefully we will meet another time.”

She crossed her fingers as she said it. She was relieved Mrs. Smith hadn’t come. She was worried that she’d like her and feel even guiltier, or that Ashley Smith would somehow read on her face what she’d done. Eliza brought his neighborly offering to the kitchen just as her old friend Marjorie Tobin arrived and suggested they open it. Eliza looked at the clock, 11:00 a.m. Too early? she thought.