The Accidentals(87)

“Does she usually come home ripping drunk at one thirty?” Jake whispers.

“Never.”

His hand trails up the side of my hip. “Do you need me to sneak out? If you’ll be embarrassed, I’ll go.”

“Don’t,” I whisper. Please.

He kisses my neck. “Hand me my boxers, then. Quick, before she comes back.”

“Good idea.” I slide off the bed. I hand Jake his underwear and grab a nightie out of my dresser drawer. I fling the nightie over my head just as the outside door opens again. I hop back into the bed as quietly as possible.

Humming to herself, Aurora stumbles into the bedroom. She drops her toiletry caddy noisily on the floor and paws at her bed. Then she begins singing. The words are slurred Spanish, but the tune is unmistakably Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive.”

It’s quite a performance.

I feel a giggle rising in my chest, but I hold it in. At least I try, until Jake also begins shaking with barely suppressed laughter. I have to clamp a hand over my mouth.

Aurora’s song breaks off as she struggles with her bed covers. Then the room is quiet, except for the tremors of choked-back laughter rippling through two people in one small bed.

Behind me, Jake snorts, forcing me to roll my face into the pillow to suppress the giggles.

“SHHHH!” Aurora hisses from her end of the room. “Silencio!”

But that only makes it funnier. We clutch each other, trying to laugh noiselessly.

“Maybe you two had—” Aurora belches. “—a nice night. But mine was horrible. Now, go to sleep.” Her voice rolls toward the wall.

Jake takes a deep breath. “Goodnight, Aurora,” he whispers.

“Night,” she answers. And in spite of the fact that Jake and I are still shaking in the dark, my roommate soon begins to snore.

When my spasms of laughter finally subside, I put my head on Jake’s chest. “Goodnight,” I whisper.

He strokes my hair. “Goodnight, my love.”

I lie there for a while, wondering if it’s possible to die of happiness. Instead, I fall asleep.





Chapter Thirty





Three days later, I meet Frederick in front of a big house on Choate Street. As I approach, he unlocks the door. “Seriously, the key is in the mailbox?” I ask.

“Apparently there’s not a lot of crime in this town. Norah told me to go ahead and show you the place. It’s vacant.”

I step inside to see a gorgeous curving staircase in front of me. “Wow. Fancy.”

“I really like it,” he says. “I want to buy it, but Norah said I had to show it to you first before I make an offer.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. She said ‘It’s great that you love this house, but give your people a minute to get used to the idea.’”

“Doesn’t she like it?”

“She likes it fine. But she already owns a house, and thinks I’m being extravagant. The thing is, we’re going to need some more space.” He walks me through a grand living room and into a dining room at the rear. “Look out the window,” he says. “That little building in back is currently an art studio.”

“Interesting. With some ugly black foam, you could soundproof it.”

“Exactly. My man cave.”

I turn around. “What a kitchen.” In addition to miles of gleaming countertops, there are barstools and even a little fireplace.

“Isn’t it great? The previous owners must have spent a bundle on renovations. They made it into a really nice family space.”

In my mind, I populate this room with Norah and a baby. There will be a high chair at the kitchen table, and Frederick will wave at them through the window on his way to his backyard hideout.

The perfect little family, at home in their new mansion.

“Come upstairs,” he says.

At the top of the curved staircase is a hallway that leads to four bedrooms. “Here’s the nursery.” Frederick walks along the shiny wood floor and points into a little room. “It’s connected to the master suite.”

As I peek into the empty rooms, I can picture how this will work. Frederick will stand over the crib in that cozy room in this gracious house. He’s setting himself up for a do-over. If he’s a good father to his second baby, then he can move on and declare himself cured. He can resign from Assholes Anonymous.

I feel a pain in my chest.

“Rachel, come here a minute,” he calls. “See, most of the bedrooms are together. But once you go through this door, there’s one more.”

I follow him through a narrow little hallway until we’re standing in a very pretty room with dormers and window seats. Out the windows, I can see buds on the backyard trees.

“Okay, it’s over the garage, which is probably a bit cold in the winter,” he says. “But it’s very private, with its own bathroom too. And it’s kind of pretty. It made me think of a girl’s room. If I buy this house, I want you to have it. I know you’ll be in a college dormitory for much of the year. But over summer and winter vacation you’ll need a place to roost.”

I turn around, taking it all in. There are built-in bookcases under the window seats.

“Look.” He beckons. “There’s a second staircase too, that goes down to the mudroom. What do you think?”