Eliza Starts a Rumor(24)
“Both of them?”
“Absolutely. She’s a retired kindergarten teacher who raised a family of her own. She could probably watch ten babies more easily than we can watch one. I promise.” Alison agreed to it.
“The thought of having any control over this . . .” Olivia couldn’t finish her thought. Her eyes welled up again.
Alison went into defendant mode. “Don’t start. You have to go home and backpedal. Tell him you are not having an affair, and you’re sorry you accused him of having one. Then just try and act normal.”
Olivia had no idea how she was going to pull that off. Alison read it on her face.
“Remember, Olivia, questioning a cheater only makes things worse. If you signal what you know, he’ll cover his tracks, and it will be very hard for us to get at the truth. Plus we have no idea if this is for real. What’s that saying about worrying?”
“No use in worrying until you have something to worry about?”
“Yes, something like that.”
Olivia knew what she had to do. As she trudged home, she directed her thoughts to uncovering the truth. She swore to control herself and go about everything purposefully and emotionlessly for her and Lily’s sake. The only thing worse than being cheated on was being made a fool of, and if that was what was going on, she would take him down. She thought of something that happened last week, something that had touched her. She’d been giggling at a silly cat video when he walked in, caught her, and smiled a huge grin.
“What?” she had asked, and he said, “Nothing, I just love to hear you laugh.”
She would think of that nice moment when her mind drifted to hating him and promised to stop before the worst thought took over. The worst thought being that everything, including that moment, was a lie.
CHAPTER 14
Amanda
Amanda had insisted that she and the girls take a car from the airport, but of course her father had completely ignored her. While she appreciated him and had been garnering strength from just the promise of their forthcoming hug, she recognized she would have to draw clear boundaries. Dan Williams could be quite obstinate, especially when it came to his only child, Mandy.
The ride home was particularly uncomfortable. Dan would ask a question, and Amanda would quickly shut it down with her eyes. Finally, she said, “Let’s talk when we get home, Dad,” as she turned up the radio.
Dan brought their luggage inside. The girls would share Amanda’s old room, and Amanda would take the guest room on the first floor so as to give her some privacy, he said. She secretly longed to stay in her childhood bedroom, snuggled up under the primary-colored tulips of her beloved Marimekko comforter. When trying to fall asleep next to Carson, Amanda would sometimes imagine herself in her childhood bed. She would envision the array of stickers that she’d collaged to the underside of the top bunk in middle school—an abundance of Wacky Packs, the bright leopard prints of Lisa Frank, and a mega-sized MTV logo were interspersed with nearly anything with an adhesive back. She doubted anyone else even knew they were there. Sometimes she would lie in her Beverly Hills bed trying to recall every last sticker until she drifted off to sleep.
As Sadie began losing the battle for the top bunk to her older sister, Amanda winked at her and motioned for her to try out the bottom. She did, and upon seeing the ’80s time capsule, quickly acquiesced as if she were doing Pippa a favor.
“Fine, I’ll take the bottom,” she said, with a knowing smile.
The girls thought this visit was about escaping the initial fallout from their father’s indiscretions. “Just until it blows over,” Amanda had told them on the plane. But Amanda knew better than to think it would be blowing over anytime soon. She assumed that those first accusations against Carson were only the tip of the iceberg. Her gut told her that her husband would be going down like the Titanic, and like on the Titanic, all women and children belonged in lifeboats. She helped the girls unpack and excused herself to settle into the guest room.
From her window, Amanda could see that across the street Eliza had company. Her dad had mentioned an invitation in the car, before she’d silenced him. On other visits, Amanda might have run to Eliza’s to say hello before even entering her own house, but not today. Until receiving her text, Amanda hadn’t heard from her for a few months, and then it had only been to wish her a happy birthday. In the old days, they would have called each other on their birthdays and stayed on the phone for hours catching up. Eliza knew Amanda better than anyone, and would have heard, just from her hello, how unhappy she was. It’s much easier to feign happiness over text. She remembered selecting a smiley face in response to Eliza’s asking how she was doing. She’d gone with the slightly smiling face as opposed to the big grin to avoid feeling like a complete hypocrite. If she were being honest, she would have sent the exploding head back then as she had yesterday. Texting is both a blessing and a curse.
Eliza’s house looked so happy and full. It made Mandy wonder about the life she was so quick to give up. As soon as she was able, she had flown the coop to head to the West Coast in search of something bigger. On the yearly trips back east to see her dad, she could remember her perspective changing. Eventually she would see things through Carson’s eyes. The spacious houses in their affluent neighborhood, built in the ’70s on a large expanse of undeveloped Hudson Valley farmland, slowly began to shrink as she became accustomed to the mansions of Beverly Hills. The conversations about country clubs, canasta, and composting seemed droll compared to industry talk in LA. Even the bodies were less exciting to look at; everyone seemed to have an extra ten pounds on them yet didn’t think twice about ordering a slice of pie for dessert. That part was actually better. In LA, “à la mode” meant with a side of remorse and a promise of three more miles on the treadmill.