Behind Every Lie(12)
“Look! I drew a rocket!” Laura interrupted, holding her picture out to us.
“Well done,” I said. I slid a blue crayon from the box and drew a rocket next to hers. “Did you know that rockets make it rain?” I drew a cloud under the rocket. “The smoke from the exhaust turns into clouds, and eventually, after the rocket has disappeared, the clouds start to rain!”
“Wow!” She picked up the crayon and drew clouds and rain in a frenzy of blue swirls.
Rose looked at me over the rim of her coffee mug. Her steady gray gaze made me feel itchy and hot all over, but also, strangely, like a cat being stroked. “This is a crazy thing to say, I know, but—would you want to be our nanny?”
I lifted my glasses off my nose to polish them, letting my eyes sweep over her face. She didn’t appear to be joking. But Seb would never allow it. He liked me home with Eva, dinner on the table when he got home, laundry washed and neatly folded. It was our deal: he kept us financially secure; I took care of our daughter and made our house a home.
“I don’t …”
“Of course.” Rose smiled and shrugged. “That was too forward. I do apologize.”
“No, it isn’t that.” I laughed, a surprised whoosh of air. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not certain we could afford to put Eva in nursery while I work.”
“Why, bring her with you! The children would have each other to play with. And look how well they get on!”
We watched Laura and Eva coloring together.
“We wouldn’t want to impose.…”
“Not at all. It would be lovely! I could start painting again, and Laura could learn so much from you before school starts!”
A gentle thrill buzzed through me. But I would have to ask Seb before I replied.
“I’ll give you my number.” Rose jotted her number on a crumpled receipt and handed it to me. “Do think about it. I’m afraid I must dash. We have a playdate organized soon.”
We left the café, and Laura and Eva bounced over to a clutch of daffodils swaying in the soft breeze, their hands knitted together. Laura picked one and tucked it behind Eva’s ear. Eva giggled.
“Thank you for the drinks,” I said.
Rose leaned forward and hugged me, her lips brushing my cheek. A gentle shiver raced down my spine as her hair tickled my ear. A strange, heady flush climbed my throat and stained my cheeks. I pulled away abruptly.
“It was lovely to meet you.” Rose’s eyes twinkled. “Please do phone me. My offer is genuine.”
I called Eva to me, and we said good-bye and headed in the opposite direction. As we walked, her gaze strained backward over her shoulder, at Laura and Rose.
Eva brought that daffodil home and put it on her bedside cabinet. It stayed there until it withered and shrank, eventually crumbling into tiny fragments that were cleared onto the floor and forgotten.
I am aware that the mind plays tricks. Brains are strange and capricious things, and we humans are deluded to purport to be in control of them. A memory is no more reliable than the weather, broken, warped by the teller’s view. But I remember that daffodil. The incandescent yellow glow against Laura’s skin as she inhaled its scent before she gave it to Eva. Perhaps that’s why daffodils always remind me of her.
Of the beginning of the end.
seven
eva
“THE POLICE THINK I was at Mom’s house?” I asked Andrew, stunned. I pressed my phone against my good ear, my palms slippery with sweat as I stared at the ferry dock looming closer. Fear and adrenaline made my fingers tingle. “What does that mean? They don’t think I … ?” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“Eva!” Liam called from the car as the ferry horn blared. I waved that I was coming.
“Don’t worry, they aren’t preparing an arrest warrant or anything yet,” Andrew said. “They have to finish collecting evidence, do lab tests, interview witnesses. But I think they’re suspicious of you. My buddy on the force said the fact you were near Mom’s—”
“I wasn’t there! I got the ferry home after we had dinner!”
“The paramedics picked you up right by Mom’s house.” My brother’s voice was flat.
I opened my mouth to deny it, to swear that I would never physically harm our mother.
But it wasn’t the truth.
Because I had harmed her before.
Badly.
* * *
“Everything all right?” Liam asked when I slammed the car door.
“Apparently the paramedics found me right by Mom’s house around the time she was killed. My brother thinks the police are suspicious of me!”
Liam scowled, fingers flexing on the steering wheel. “That’s why the detective was trying to question you! I knew he was up to no good. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. I’ll call my lawyer when we get home.”
I chewed my thumbnail, ripping the nail to the quick. Blood oozed from it, tasting of salt and rusted metal.
“Won’t I look guilty if I call a lawyer?”
“You have to defend yourself. Trust me, we can’t just sit here and do nothing.”
A thin sliver of my fingernail splintered into my mouth, making a sharp snapping sound.