The Wife Stalker(59)

Piper nodded. “That’s only because you’re not used to so many fruits and vegetables, which is not good. Drink up, and then you can have a cookie. It’s a small glass.” He put his mouth around the straw and drank. Piper watched to make sure they both finished, then put the plate down in front of them. “Now you can have cookies.” She looked over at the nanny. “How about you, Rebecca—would you like one?”

“No, thank you. If you’re okay with the children, I wouldn’t mind checking my emails.”

“Certainly. We’re fine. You go ahead,” Piper said.

“These taste different,” Stelli said, still chewing.

“I used carob chips instead of chocolate. They’re healthier.” She didn’t mention that she’d also substituted honey for the sugar and coconut flour for the wheat. Their palates were definitely accustomed to junk.

Stelli took another bite. “They’re okay, I guess.”

“Can I help you next time?” Evie asked.

“Absolutely. I would love that.”

Just then, the head of the maid service that came twice a week entered the kitchen to let her know she was leaving. Piper grabbed her wallet and followed the woman to the door to pay her. When Piper walked back to the kitchen, she heard the children talking and hung back.

“These cookies aren’t as good as Mommy’s,” Stelli told his sister.

“They’re pretty good,” Evie said.

There was a long silence, and then Stelli spoke again. “I hate it here without her.” He sounded angry.

“I know,” Evie said. “But we have to get used to it. She’s never coming back.”

“Why not? My Sunday school teacher said that Jesus died and came back. Maybe Mommy could come back, too.”

“I don’t know, Stelli. I don’t think so.”

“She will. I know she will.” Piper could hear the quavering in his voice, as if he were about to cry.

“Don’t you remember? Dad said she’s never coming back. And anyway, Piper is here now. What would she do if Mommy came back?”

“Who cares about stupid Piper? She could go away.”

Piper closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. Every time she thought she took a step forward with Stelli, she immediately took three steps back. He was almost worse than Mia—at least with Mia, though, Piper had always known where she stood. She guessed it was true about the connection between boys and their mothers.

It bothered her that he was building a fairy tale in his head. Even though he was only six, it wasn’t healthy. She and Leo would have to figure out how to put these childish fantasies to rest once and for all.

She stood a moment longer, until they’d stopped talking, and entered the room. “Well,” she said, trying to keep her voice bright, “looks like you’re all finished. Why don’t you go upstairs and change, and then you can go outside and play?”

Stelli was up and out of the room in a flash, but his sister lingered. “Thanks, Piper. The cookies were really good.”

Piper smiled at her. She was such a lovely child, who was obviously missing her mom, too, but wanted to be kind to Piper. Stelli’s backpack still lay on the floor where he’d dropped it, and Piper picked it up and pulled out his lunch box. He’d left carrots and a half-eaten box of raisins in it, which she removed, then wiped out the inside.

She put the lunch box aside and checked Stelli’s backpack to see if there were any notices from school. A folded piece of paper lay on top—a note about a field trip to the Bronx Zoo, asking for money and chaperones. Maybe she would try to arrange her schedule to sign up for that, she thought, putting the paper on the counter next to her phone. She smiled as she pulled out three small army men and a few Legos. There were also two library books and a crumpled crayon drawing, which she smoothed out—a large orange pumpkin with smaller pumpkins around it—a drawing for, obviously, Halloween. And then her fingers skimmed a small slick square of card stock, and she pulled it out. She looked with dismay at the photograph of their mother.

For the rest of the afternoon, while Rebecca played outside with the children, Piper was online in her study, reading articles and studies on talking to children about the death of a parent. She was still in front of her laptop at seven, when Rebecca fed the children dinner and took them upstairs for their baths. She didn’t turn off the computer until they came downstairs in their pajamas, freshly scrubbed and ready for bed. By the time she had finished, she felt she had some concrete information to give Leo when he got home from a late meeting at the office tonight. After tucking the kids into bed, she decided she could use a long relaxing bath. As the tub filled, she lit a few candles and put on the classical station she liked. The house was quiet except for the strains of classical music coming from the speakers, and she lowered herself into the warm water. All the tension left her body as she soaked, her head resting on a bath pillow, her eyes closed, and her nostrils filled with the soothing smell of sage from the burning candles. She concentrated on her breathing—in through her nose and out through her mouth—emptying her head of all troubling thoughts.

When she finally rose from the water, it was close to nine. Leo would be home soon. She gently massaged hempseed oil all over her body and slipped into a nightgown and robe. While the cookies had been baking earlier, she’d made a big pot of red lentil soup, knowing that he would probably want a light dinner at such a late hour. She was in the kitchen heating it up when he came in, and she turned the flame off and went to him.