Neighborly(62)

“Tell that to her,” he says frostily.

He knows how I feel in front of his parents, how I worry about their scrutiny. I can’t believe he’d show me up like this. He’s punishing me. For what he overheard me saying about his mother? Or for something else?

Scott is standing by the rhododendron bush, like he’s not with us. He hates a scene. Melody moves over to Doug and begins to stroke Sadie’s hair. I’ve been blocked out, displaced.

Before I can even think, I find myself fleeing across the lawn, back to the path. I hear Melody calling to me, a note of bewilderment in her voice. I’m making it too easy for her, too easy for all of them. I look like a mother who fails to comfort her own child and then abandons her. But if I stay there, I will absolutely lose it. What would Melody say about me weeping in front of my baby?

I fly past the heathers and the succulents and flowers flowers flowers, and the end of the path is like the end of everything. I’m high above the Pacific Ocean, overlooking the craggy bluffs, the sky gray and the water grayer. Its swirls are beautiful and menacing. Other visitors with their perfect children look at me with alarm or concern. A few seem like they’re about to approach, because an obviously distraught woman on top of a bluff isn’t to be taken lightly. I should step back.

Then there’s a hand on my arm, and at the surprise, I feel myself stumble forward. Just a little, but enough to be frightening, and then that hand is yanking me back from the edge.

It’s Doug. I look at his face, and I don’t see any anger there, only my own fear mirrored back to me.

Then I’m sobbing, and his arms are around me. “I’m so sorry,” I say, “for everything.”

Please know what everything means. “Please, Doug. Just forgive me.”

When he speaks, his voice is clogged with tears. “I’ll try.”





CHAPTER 21

YOU’RE GOING TO SNAP ONE OF THESE DAYS. ANYONE CAN SEE THAT.

I wish I could say I was even a little surprised to see the latest welcome mat when Doug and I arrive home.

Doug says, “Let me take that,” and he goes to put the cardboard into the recycling. “Don’t even dignify it.”

“We can’t just ignore this.”

“Wyatt said—”

“Wyatt doesn’t even know who’s doing it!”

Doug shuts his mouth, with effort. I know that in Doug’s world, nothing goes too wrong; he has faith that nothing really ever will. That’s why he can be so dismissive of this. But I know how cruel, how downright evil, some people can be.

“I’m saving them,” I say. “In the back of the closet. It might be evidence.”

“OK.” He hands it over and turns away. He wants to say more, but he doesn’t dare. He’s been treating me with kid gloves since that moment on the bluff.

I keep thinking about what he said. When I begged forgiveness, he didn’t say there was nothing to forgive. He said he’d try.

Doug really thought I might have been contemplating a jump. I would disabuse him of the notion, but then he might just go back to his silent fury. So I’m playing along, being his fragile little invalid. I’m not entirely sure it’s an act.

Inside the house, there’s no sign of an intruder. The rooms appear undisturbed. But then, I’m disturbed enough for all of us.

I don’t know what’s worse: having kissed Wyatt or not being able to remember kissing him. Because it means I could have done other things I don’t remember.

What’s strange is that only Yolanda seems outwardly standoffish toward me. At girls’ night, they all emphasized the community of women, how they look after each other. It was a betrayal to kiss Wyatt before I’d opted into the spreadsheet. So is it possible the other women don’t know? Or do they think it’s OK for me to have a trial period, to sample the wares?

Then there’s that conversation with Brandon. He didn’t just talk about the spreadsheet in general; he specifically brought up Yolanda. So Yolanda must have confided in him, even if she didn’t tell the others. I don’t know if she sent him or if he came on his own, but now that I think about it, he was definitely trying to evoke my compassion for her. It makes me think of that song “Jolene,” one woman begging another not to take her man. Brandon might think I really want Wyatt, when honestly, Wyatt had never even crossed my mind before. So why did I kiss him? I recall the next line of the song, about not taking him just because she can. Brandon and Yolanda might think I’m the kind of person who would be with Wyatt just for sport.

It seems crazy that I could take anyone from Yolanda. She’s so much prettier than I am. But from what everyone said at my recruitment, it’s not about pretty; it’s about new. New is the great equalizer. New is how we’re all, as Raquel said, beautiful.

At least Andie has resurfaced. She left a voice mail apologizing. “I really did mean it when I said I’d be your sounding board. I want to be there for you, Kat. It’s just been a truly crazy week.”

Join the club, Andie. I haven’t called her back yet. I don’t know who I can trust right now. I would have said I could trust Andie, but she was the person who talked to Doug alone and then disappeared.

You’re going to snap one of these days. Anyone can see that.

For all I know, Andie wrote the notes. She’s as likely as any of the others. Or as unlikely. I can’t even tell anymore. But someone took that picture with my phone. Who would have done that except the writer of the notes, the person who wants me to snap? That means the writer was there that night, either one of the women or one of their husbands.