The Liar Next Door by Nicola Marsh
Twenty-Nine
Frankie
NOW
I’m setting up for a live stream when Andre wanders into the kitchen and tries to snaffle a scone from a batch I made earlier.
“Hey, wait until I’m done.” I slap his wrist playfully, and he sends me his doleful puppy look, the one that never fails to make me laugh.
“Jeez you’re bossy, but I love you.” He pecks me on the lips because he knows I’ve got my “game face” on for the camera and won’t want my make-up messed up. “Even if you are a crackpot for obsessing over a coincidence.”
I poke my tongue out at him. Before Luna had called him upstairs a few minutes ago, I’d told him about Celeste and Violette showing up at Luna’s dance class. Not that I suspect Celeste of enrolling Violette in Luna’s class deliberately—and even if she did, what’s the harm? She wants to facilitate their friendship—but I’ve been ruminating over our conversations and the distressing snippets she keeps dropping about Roland.
If Celeste has fled an abusive relationship—and it’s sounding increasingly likely that she has—is it wise for me to foster Luna’s friendship with Violette? What if her ex locates Celeste and is hell-bent on taking back Violette? I don’t want my daughter exposed to any potential danger and it’s something I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since our outing at the café.
Articulating my fears to Andre will reinforce that I’m overthinking this, so I say, “I’m not obsessing but come on, out of all the studios, what are the odds?”
“Did you ask her about it?”
I nod. “She said she enrolled at Mayberry’s first but they called her back saying they’d overbooked, so she chose Madame’s instead.”
“Sounds plausible.”
“Yeah, it’s just… she’s everywhere, you know? She’s barely moved in and she’s pushing the girls together every chance she gets.”
“She’s probably lonely.”
I jab him in the chest with a flour-covered finger. “You were the one who told me to be careful, now you’re defending her?”
His mouth eases into a bashful smile. “I may have bumped into her while taking out the trash earlier.”
“And?”
“She’s actually really nice and I feel bad for getting my hackles up at the party.”
“She is nice…” I place the last of the scones in the tray and slide them into the oven before dusting off my hands. “You made me wary of her, mister.” I poke him again and this time he snags my hand and pulls me flush against him. “I’m blaming you.”
“You’re a lunatic, you know that, right? First you were jealous of her, thinking she was coming on to me, then when I say be careful you agree, now I’m taking back my preconceptions and you still think there’s something wrong.”
“Yes to all of the above, except the lunatic part.” We kiss, lipstick smudges be damned, and I snuggle into him, loving that after all these years I feel good in his arms. “Though I might’ve been mad for ever agreeing to marry you.”
“Hey.” He swats my butt and we play wrestle, until his cell rings.
“A job I’m waiting to hear on.” He frowns as he glances at the screen, before picking up his phone and leaving the kitchen.
It reminds me. I never heard back from Walter. With all the parties and socializing and worrying about Celeste, I’ve forgotten about it. It’s unusual because he’s a stickler for manners and would always call back.
Andre has gone outside to take his call so I pick up my cell. Once again, Walter doesn’t answer and I leave another message.
“Hey, Walt, it’s me. Again. Are you okay? Please call me back. If you don’t I’m going to harass you at work and you know how much you hate getting personal calls at the bank. Call me.”
I hang up and on impulse I call our old beachside cottage number. He may have left his cell in Hartford and can only be contacted in Ziebellville the old-fashioned way. Unlikely, but plausible. However, the landline at the cottage rings out and he’s disconnected the answering machine. I feel foolish, worrying about him. He’s a grown man and we’re nothing but distant friends these days that only speak once a year.
Discounting those extra few fraught calls lately I don’t want to think about.
But Walter is a creature of habit. His life runs by rote and no way would he leave his cell anywhere let alone not return a call. But I’m not his keeper and I’ll back off, give him a day or two. Maybe he’s done with me? Is tired of our annual chat? He seems to enjoy them as much as I do otherwise I would’ve given up years ago.
No, it’s not that, and I can’t help but think he’s sick or injured or lying in a hospital somewhere. Julia would know but the last thing his partner wants is his ex-wife calling and explaining we still catch up yearly in some warped attempt at sentimentality.
My work threat will do the trick. When we were married he forbade me from calling the bank. He loathed mixing business with pleasure and when he made manager he banned his staff from accepting personal calls too. He’d hate for me to contemplate it, let alone do it, so he’ll definitely return my call.
After checking on the scones I arrange the raspberry jelly, whipped cream and fresh strawberries on white serving dishes and clean the counter. I’m doing an English theme for my stream today after a local company sent me an exquisite hand-painted teapot covered in tiny poppies. By the way Andre had been drooling over my handiwork earlier, he’ll have no problem demolishing the rest of the scones after I finish filming.
My cell rings and I grab it in relief. But it’s not Walter calling me. It’s Celeste.
I contemplate hitting the decline button but she’ll leave a voice message I’ll have to respond to regardless.
I stab at the answer button. “Hey, Celeste.”
“Hi, Frankie. Does Luna like jigsaw puzzles?”
Luna loves them. I remember doing her first with her a few years ago when she’d just turned two, a zoo theme comprising sixteen giant pieces that covered the floor of our living room. She delighted in making the pieces fit with my help and loved breaking it up and doing it all over again. Since then, we give her a puzzle for her birthday and Christmas every year and it’s a family thing we do, sit with her to complete it.
“She does.”
“Vi does too and she’s just opened a new one. Would Luna like to come over and do it with her?”
My first instinct is to say no. Despite Andre’s reassurances earlier I still can’t shake my fear that Celeste’s ex is dangerous and by letting her close to my family, particularly Luna, I’m exposing us all.
But Celeste is new to the neighborhood and a single parent trying to do the best for her daughter. And while I don’t know enough about her past to allay my fears, I’ve already let her into our lives and it would be cruel to renege now.
“How about you bring it over here? I’ve got a few things to do but our living room is quiet.” This way, I feel better about not putting Luna in a potentially dangerous situation.
There’s the barest hesitation before she says, “That sounds great. We’ll be there in five minutes.”
She hangs up before I can respond and I wonder anew whether she’s lonely too and it’s not just Vi who needs friends. I’m not comfortable with sending Luna alone next door but having Celeste and Violette here means I can keep an eye on them. I have a direct line of sight from the kitchen where I’m filming, to the living room, even with the sliding glass doors closed.
Yeah, I’ve done the right thing.
Then why can’t I shake the feeling I may be inadvertently putting my family at risk?