The Liar Next Door by Nicola Marsh

Thirty-Eight

Celeste

I’m on the way back from the bathroom when I see Frankie and Andre almost toe to toe on the small patch of grass in what passes for a backyard with these brownstones. It’s obvious they’re arguing, and I wonder what it’s about. It hadn’t been the flirtation between Ruston and Frankie at the dinner table earlier, because Andre had been amused rather than annoyed and had made a comment to me about how Frankie rarely drinks and when she does he finds it cute.

Personally, I found her flirting uncomfortable, especially with her husband sitting across from her. Andre’s a nice guy and doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. I enjoyed chatting with him. It makes me wonder if their argument is about Andre and me. Knowing Frankie’s paranoia, she probably thinks I was flirting with him and maybe that’s why she behaved the way she did? Some kind of silly payback?

I’m trying my best to befriend her. I know I’m prickly with almost everyone and don’t make friends easily and I get the feeling she’s the same. We’re dancing around each other, afraid of revealing too much. But I’m willing to take a chance because of my daughter, why can’t she?

I can’t hear what they’re saying through the closed glass door but I see Frankie jab Andre in the chest with a finger. She’s gesticulating wildly with her other hand and he takes a step back, shaking his head.

That’s when I spy Luna. She’s tucked in a corner of the kitchen, her face and palms pressed against the glass, watching her parents argue. I hear a muffled sob and my heart constricts. No child likes seeing their parents fight and at her age it’s even scarier. Young kids don’t have the insight to understand arguments are as natural a part of marriage as divvying up duties like taking out the trash and toilet cleaning.

She should’ve been upstairs with Vi, watching a movie. The last time I’d checked on them they’d been on the verge of falling asleep but something has drawn Luna downstairs. A window is probably open upstairs and the sound of her parents’ angry voices might’ve drifted up.

Whatever it is, I need to distract her. I approach carefully, not wanting to startle her, especially when she’s upset.

“Luna, I have a surprise for you.”

She turns and her tear-stained cheeks break my heart. “Mommy and Daddy are angry.”

I squat to her level so we’re eye to eye. “That happens sometimes. It doesn’t mean they don’t love each other and love you.”

She doesn’t look convinced so I continue. “Have you ever been mad at a friend in ballet class?”

She nods, her eyes wide and solemn.

“Yet you’re still friends, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that’s what an argument with grown-ups is like. We may say angry stuff but we still like each other.”

Not always. I’d said some angry stuff to Roland I can never retract. I’ve taken Vi away from her father, ensuring he’ll never come near us again, and that’s a guilty secret I’ll have to live with every single day.

“I guess that makes sense.” Her shoulders lift in a little shrug. “I know I’m not supposed to be down here but Violette fell asleep and I’m hungry.”

“Well, that’s part of the surprise I mentioned. I know you like strawberries, but do you like cream?”

“Yeah, they taste good together.”

“They do. How would you like a bowl now?”

An adorable frown crinkles her brow. “But Mom says I shouldn’t have snacks after nine o’clock.”

It’s not my place to be mad at Frankie but I am. For putting Andre through that ridiculous display at the dinner table earlier and for making her daughter cry inadvertently now.

“Just this once, okay? It’ll be our secret.”

Finally, her eyes light with mischief rather than sadness. “Okay.”

“How about you sit on one of those stools at the island bench and I’ll get it for you?”

She does as she’s told and I place some of the strawberries Saylor used to decorate the cheesecake into a bowl, and swirl whipped cream over the top. When I stick a spoon in the bowl and place it in front of Luna, she looks more like the young girl I’ve seen on previous occasions, her face alight with excitement.

“This looks so good,” she says, a moment before ignoring the spoon in favor of using her fingers to swipe a strawberry through the cream and popping it into her mouth. “Mmm… yum…”

I laugh at her ecstatic expression. Vi eats well but it requires a lot of coaxing and bribing on my part. I’ve never seen my daughter enjoy food the way Luna is.

“What are the grown-ups doing?” Luna asks, picking up another strawberry.

“Talking at the dining table.”

“Have they finished eating?”

“Yes.”

We finished dessert ten minutes ago and I can’t wait to leave. I’m not sure why Saylor hosted this intimate dinner party. She seemed on edge and I caught her casting Frankie several malevolent glares when Ruston had been flirting with her, almost like she’d been jealous.

I can’t figure this group out. Saylor should be mad for Lloyd, the father of her child. She should be focused on her pregnancy, not coveting another man. Instead, I get the feeling she has a thing for Ruston, who talked at length about his career as a model and I found him quite boring and self-absorbed. Lloyd is the quintessential nice guy; a man easily duped if his partner is so inclined and I definitely have my suspicions about Saylor. As for Frankie and Andre, I think they’re happy but tonight casts doubt on that.

I enjoyed talking to him and for a scandalous second, while we discovered our mutual love for sitcom reruns, I allowed myself to wonder what it would be like to have him in my life, a man to be a full-time father to Vi, a man to depend on.

It had been a fleeting thought and one I can’t encourage but the warmth of sitting next to a man like him, of having him pay me attention, still lingers and a small part of me is happy he’s fighting with his wife.

The whole evening has been fraught with an underlying tension I can’t define and don’t want to. I’ll make nice with these people for Vi’s sake but it’s best I don’t get too close to any of them. I never know when I’ll have to leave in a hurry again.

I’ve drifted off with my thoughts so when I refocus, Luna is licking the bowl clean. I stifle a smile. “Does your mom allow you to do that?”

She puts the bowl down, guilty yet gleeful. “No. She says it’s bad manners.”

“It is.” I see her stiffen in fear so I add, “But I won’t tell.”

She smiles and slides off the stool. “You’re nice.”

“You’re nice too,” I say, surprised when she comes around the counter and opens her arms for a hug.

As I envelop her in my arms, I’m struck by how perfect this is. I want Vi and Luna to be close and now this sweet girl trusts me.