Neighborly(78)

What did Kat tell him? Or could it have been Andie?

It would be so like Katrina to tell him about our conversation and make it sound like I’m at fault, like I’m the bad influence. I know she’s capable of lying, no matter who gets hurt.

I force myself to stay calm. “I’m Kat’s closest friend,” I say. “I’m the one who’s helped her through all this when you were MIA.”

“MIA?” He scoffs. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“There’ve been some unexplained absences.”

He glowers. “I think you should leave now.”

“I want to see Kat and Sadie. I want to make sure they’re all right.”

“Everyone’s doing great. Sadie’s going to be discharged tomorrow. The last thing we need is stress.”

“I don’t stress Kat out; I alleviate her stress. Can you say the same?”

I start to walk around him, and he grips my arm.

“Do you want this getting around the neighborhood?” I ask. “That you manhandle women?”

Of course that does the trick. Gotta protect his image. He lets go and steps to the side. “I’m sorry,” he says. “All of this does a number on your head.” He sounds sincere, but whatever.

Inside the room, Andie is chatting up Scott and Melody, while Kat plays with Sadie. I can’t believe Kat would allow Doug’s presumed mistress entrance into her private life. It’s like she’s got no self-respect at all.

The room has two cribs, one at each end, but Sadie’s the only child there, so the family’s commandeered the entire space. There’s an actual door and a window. Even though it’s antiseptically white and the view is of the busy boulevard below, it feels lavish compared to Sadie’s previous accommodations.

Sadie is responding to Kat with smiles and giggles. When Kat sees me, she looks pleased, and I cast a triumphant look in Doug’s direction. He doesn’t notice. He’s already too engaged in the conversation with Andie and his parents. I can’t tell if Kat is isolating herself or being frozen out, but there are two camps: Kat and me versus the rest of them. It’s like there’s one of those invisible electric fences down the center of the room. It looks to me like Kat’s in-laws are embracing the mistress.

“So, how are you?” I ask Kat. As in love with Sadie as she looks, she also appears entirely exhausted, on the verge of collapse.

“They think it must have been a virus,” Kat says. “They’re still not really sure. I just need to focus on the most important thing, which is that everything’s under control and she’s being discharged tomorrow.”

“Where are you taking her?”

“I’m taking her home.” Do I detect a note of defiance, like Kat’s telling me my plan isn’t working? Or maybe she just thinks she has no other choice but to go home, so she might as well act like it’s what she would have chosen anyway. I know a little something about denial. Or at least, my therapist said I do.

“I’m feeling a little tired,” I hear Melody say. She looks lovingly across the room at Sadie, and then she crosses the line. “Could I hold her before I go?” she asks Kat with exaggerated deference.

Kat nods and gives Sadie up. Then she goes and stands by the window, like she can’t bear to look at Sadie in anyone else’s arms. Scott and Doug encircle Melody and Sadie, a perfect little family tableau.

“We’re going to drive home now,” Scott announces. “I think Melody and I could use a night in our own bed.”

Melody is making a great show of her reluctance as she hands Sadie to Doug. Then she gives Kat a pro forma kiss on the cheek, while Scott doesn’t even bother. They close the door softly on their way out.

Then there were three. Well, four, counting Sadie, but three is so much more Agatha Christie. I loved those books. Kat and I loved them together. We spent an entire summer in the library, reading through the shelf.

Sadie is still in Doug’s arms, and now Andie’s standing way too close to them, alternately cooing at Sadie and looking up into Doug’s face. I don’t know if she’s trying to put on a show and make Kat feel awful or she’s so into Doug as to be completely oblivious. I’ve never doubted her love and devotion to Nolan before, but now . . .

Speak of the devil. I notice Nolan is standing in the doorway, his hands clenched around Fisher’s stroller. I don’t know how long he’s been watching Andie and Doug, but there’s a darkness in his face that I’ve only seen a few times before. Then he’s saying, “Hello! Room for two more?” in a compensatory, jolly tone.

Doug leaps up, replacing Sadie unceremoniously in her crib. She emits a protest cry that he doesn’t even dignify. He radiates guilt. “So great to see you, Nolan!”

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Andie tells him. She gives him that same smile she gave me just a moment ago. Either she’s not guilty or she’s much better at concealing it than Doug is.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Still in that same jovial tone, but Nolan’s eyes are hard. He rolls Fisher forward. “You’ve been spending so much time here. I thought you might be missing your son.”

Nolan and I trade greetings. Then he bends down to release Fisher from the stroller’s bindings and, without another word, thrusts Fisher into her arms. She’s clearly startled but recovers well, smiling and cooing at Fisher.