The Memory Box (21 page)

In the rearview mirror, I see Sullivan pull the office door shut and hurry to his car, his belly jostling to and fro. My eyes dart away from the mirror. I never want to see him again. For several blocks I catch glimpses of his car in my rear view mirror, following me. Every now and then another car gets between us, but sooner or later his ends up behind mine. But I can’t worry about that hypocrite now. I’ve got other hypocrites on my mind.

No wonder JD didn’t want to fill in “father’s name” on Lilly’s birth certificate. All the things I still have of JD’s and Timothy’s. Stuff I’ve kept all these years. I can’t believe I saved all that bullshit of theirs. I hate them. They both got what they deserved. I need to clean my house and soul of everything of theirs. All their dirty, ugly, deceptive bullshit.

Andy keeps calling on the cell phone, looking for me. He and the girls are worried. Where am I, and am I all right, and when will I be home, and what am I doing. Andy will put the girls to sleep, but he’s waiting up for me. We’ll watch a movie together. We’ll spend some time together. If he doesn’t hear from me, he’s calling the police.

I text him back. I’m out. Don’t wait up. I don’t tell him where. I don’t owe anybody anything.

I drive for hours. Weaving in and out of streets I don’t know and will never drive again. I get lost twice, but it doesn’t concern me. I’m sick of hearing my own thoughts, so I grab an apple from the bag on the floor and bite into it. The crunch becomes hypnotizing. I eat them one after the other.

Once it’s late enough that I’m certain everyone is asleep, I go home. Andy is sleeping on the couch with the TV on. I go straight to the closet. To the box. To the letters. And the pressed flowers. And the promises on Hayes & Hayes letterhead.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Sunday, October 1, 2006, 12:01 p.m.

T
he flesh on my arm is being kneaded like bread dough.

“Mommy, Mommy …” Lilly’s imploring, kneeling on top of the blankets next to me on my bed.

Through narrow slits in my eyes, I see her. Before my eyes close I take her hand from my arm and kiss her palm gently. She was supposed to be mine. She may have been born out of a union of betrayal—but look at them now. He almost killed his own daughter. Instead he killed the mother of his daughter. I should feel lucky.

I should.

“Mommy—get up.
Get up
.” She lifts one dead-weight arm, and it flops back down on the bed. “Come on. Rise and shine. We gotta get ready.” She scooches toward Andy’s side of the bed and pulls my arm, hoping the rest of me will follow.

“Lilly, sweetie, not now, I need to sleep. Please.” I cup my hands over my ears.

“You have to, Mommy. They’re coming soon. Come on. You have to get out of your jammies.” She whisks away my blanket. “Mommy, why are you sleeping in your clothes? Where are your pajamas?”

“How do I look?” Tessa pirouettes into the room. Her grass skirt spins up around her waist. “Daddy said we could wear these. I’m a hula girl! Isn’t it beau-ti-ful! Wah waaah wah waah …”

“
Please.
” I pull the blanket back up to my chin. “Close my door. Go show Daddy. I need to sleep.”

“For how long? What about the party?”

“Daddy can take you.”

“Take us where?”

“To the party.”

“The party is here,
duh
—”

“Our party, Mom.” Tessa stops spinning. “It’s today.”

“Everybody’s gonna be here soon.”

I peer over the bulge of the pillow beside me to get a look at the clock. It’s noon.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” Andy suddenly appears in the doorway. “You look terrible.” He walks to the bedside and puts the back of his hand on my forehead. “What happened to you yesterday? I waited up as long as I could. Where were you? What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you later. I can’t go to the party, I’m sorry. I can’t move …” My eyes close.

“Oh, Caroline—are you
serious
? Come on—you need this party. This party is for you, practically. You need to have some fun. You’ve been so stressed lately. I’m gonna call your doctor. I’ve never seen you like this. You’re worrying me. Are you in your
clothes?
”

“Do not call the doctor. Andy, I’m serious. Promise me. Right now.” I lift my head about an inch from the pillow, but it’s too heavy to keep up there, and collapses.

“Okay.
Okay.
I promise.” He holds his hands up in surrender. “If you’re worried about setting up and all that stuff, I got it covered. You’re a guest. All you have to do is show up with a smile. We’ll do the rest. We can handle this! Right, girls?”

“Yeah, Mommy, we can handle this!” Lilly flexes her biceps as Tessa braids the grass strands on her skirt.

“May I get you something to drink, Mrs. Thompson?” Lilly pretends to write on an invisible notepad.

I don’t move. Smarty jumps on the bed and puts his head on my stomach.

“Maybe you just need a hot shower. Lilly—do me a favor, put the shower on for Mommy.”

“
No, Andy
. I don’t need a shower. I need you to leave.”

This makes him take a step back.

“Let’s leave Mom alone. You sleep, sweetie.” He puts his arms around the girls. “You’ll feel better when you wake up. The party starts in about an hour and a half. I’m not accepting no for an answer.” Andy walks back over to my side and kisses my forehead. Walking toward the door, he whispers to the girls, “Do you know where Mommy keeps those big ice pails?”

Lilly says, “I dunno. Do you think she’ll be out of bed by tomorrow? We need to get to the sculpture garden.”

“I don’t know, honey.”

“If we don’t go I won’t earn that badge, and I’ll have only eleven, and that means Alexandra will still have one more than me.”

“It’s just a stupid Girl Scout badge, Lilly.”

“Shut up, Tessa.”

“Sshhh. Can you two give it a rest,” huffs Andy.

They close the door behind them. Lilly pops her head back in. “Oh, Mommy, Smarty caught another mouse in the back. He brought it in, but—”

“Lilly! What did I tell you?!”

The warm air
on my cheek is coming from Tessa, who’s breathing about an inch from my face. “Mommy? Mommy, are you feeling better?” she whispers. She’s sweeping the hair that’s fallen across my face back onto the pillow. She places a soft kiss on my cheek, and I slowly open my eyes. She’s curled up next to me under the blankets. She pops up when she sees my eyes open.

“Mommy, you’re awake! It’s time to change! Some people are here already.” She’s turned up the volume and revved up her motor. I wish I had kept my eyes closed. The smell of crab cakes and clams whacks me in the face. I used to love those smells.

“Honey … I can’t,” I mumble to Tessa. “I’m sorry.”

She gets up and kneels on the bed with her arms limp at her side. Smarty is next to her, sitting in the same position. “You’re not getting out of bed? You’re not coming to the party?” She can’t believe it. “Why?”

I shake my head.

“It won’t be a party without you.” Her eyes fill up with tears.

“Yes it will,” I breathe.

“No it won’t. If you’re not going, I’m not going.” She plops her head on Andy’s pillow, tucks her knees up to her chin, and slips her feet back under the blankets. The grass of her skirt is bent upward and falls around her shoulders. Smarty lays his chin down and stares at me.

I can’t believe she’s pulling this. On
me
. I’m the mother of reverse psychology.

“Tessa.” I try to muster an ounce of energy. “What are you doing? You can’t stay here.”

“Yes I can.”

The next time
I open my eyes, the curtains on the front windows are glowing softly. Tessa’s face is in a shadow. She’s looking through a telescope she’s made out of her hand and is studying the ceiling intently while chewing on the Band-Aids that wrap the fingertips of her other hand. Andy appears at the foot of the bed.

“Daddy!” Tessa exclaimed.

“Sweetie, I’m begging you. Please put these on. Here,” he says as he extends his arm with a pair of jeans and a white shirt. “Everyone’s asking for you. Just for a little while. Besides, you need to eat something. It’s two-thirty. Really. Come down. Please?”

I smell the smells of food I don’t want to eat. Indistinguishable chatter comes from people I don’t want to see. I have nothing to say to them. And I don’t want to hear anything they have to say to me. Why do they want to see me so badly?
I
don’t want to see me.

Or be me.

Andy and Tessa will not go away until I relent.

Whatever. Who gives a crap, anyway?

On the way downstairs, Lilly, with hot dog in hand, meets me halfway and hugs me with her entire being. It doesn’t smell like a turkey dog; it smells like a real hot dog. To my surprise my mouth waters.

“Oh
Mommy
—come on, before you miss any more. Guess who’s here? Nicole! The new girl who moved in down the street. Daddy saw her father when we were walking Smarty, and he invited the whole family! She grabs my hand and yanks me down the stairs, briefly looking back at me to ask, “Can Nicole come in our car tomorrow for the Girl Scout trip? She joined our troop!” Her eyes scrunch, “Do you want to comb your hair, Mommy?”

“Huh?”

“Oh, no.” She freezes midstep; her eyes, as wide as moons, drift down my shirt. With a pained expression, she says, “I got ketchup on your shirt. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. Don’t worry.” I pat the top of her head, hoping she’ll turn around and keep walking.

“You wanna change your shirt?”

“Sure …”

She doesn’t move, so I walk around her down the stairs.

Lilly calls from behind, “Do you want to change now? I’ll wait for you—”

I pause on the last step and look around the kitchen and through the sliding doors to the backyard.

“Mom, it’s a pretty big stain,” she says, once she catches up to me. She takes the napkin wrapped around her hot dog and rubs my shirt, creating a bigger splotch. The ketchup seeps through my shirt, making my skin cold and wet.

I pull my shirt away from her. “Don’t worry. It’s okay.”

In the kitchen, Andy spots me first. He comes over and kisses my cheek. “I’m so glad you came down, Caroline.” He smooths down the back of my hair. “Have something to eat. The food is great.” He whispers in my ear, “You have a big red stain on your shirt. I didn’t see that when I grabbed it from your closet, sorry ’bout that.” Then he shouts across the kitchen, “Hey, Vicki, here she is. We had to tell her you wouldn’t leave unless she came down.” He laughs at his own joke and slaps me on the back with unintended gusto, which propels me off the step into the kitchen. Officially.

Vicki scoots over as I sit down on a stool and put my hands in my lap. “It looks like you had your way with the salsa!” She elbows me. “Caroline, great party. Boy, Andy is quite the host. You taught him well, Darlin’.” She squashes down closer to me, “You okay? Andy told me you had a bad week? I called you every day, ya know.”

“I’m fine.” A bird outside in the distance is sitting on a tree branch, but Vicki’s head is blocking my view of the branch so the bird looks like its sitting on her head.

I look back at her. She appears annoyed.

“Caroline, did you hear me?” Vicki moves her face closer. “Are you listening to me?”

“Yes.”

“I said you should’ve called me if you weren’t coming to bunko. I could’ve gotten a sub for you.”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you come to bunko on Thursday? It was at my house. I called you at like, 7:30, but you didn’t answer. And you didn’t return any of my calls. I’m just sayin’.”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, forget it. What’s the matter with you? Are you on meds or something? You’re totally zoned out.”

She grabs the back of my stool. “Caroline. I said, do you want me to fix you a plate?”

“Am I on
meds?
”

“Are you?”

“I don’t think so.”

She lets go of the stool. “I’m getting you some food. Sit here. I’ll fix you a plate. And a
drink
. One for you, two for me. You’re weirding me out.”

She spins out of sight into the backyard. My neighbor stands by the pool steps, waving me over through the sliders. Maybe she’s waving someone else over. These are
our
friends? We don’t have this many. They’re not ours. How were they available on such short notice? Andy called them six days ago. Must be losers. Takes one to know one. I hate parties.

Everyone’s mouth is moving simultaneously. No one’s listening. Everyone’s talking. What’s everyone talking about? It’s remarkable how people can sustain a conversation for so long about nothing. I hate small talk. It’s such bullshit.

Heads bob up and down. Like synchronized swimmers. Fake, toothy grins. Huge guffaws. Heads thrown back. Hands over hearts. Hands over mouths. I can’t imagine what’s so amusing. These people are not even funny. Drinks to lips. Clinking glasses. Want another? I’m going to someone’s house to get bombed!

They never get drunk in their own house.

On my way to the bathroom, I grab the phone by the fridge and think about the other girls in the Girl Scout troop. I’m not going to the sculpture garden. Someone else will take them. I dial Diane’s number. I pull the cord as far as it will go so I can stand in the corner around the hall from the kitchen. She picks up on the first ring.

“Hi, Diane, it’s Caroline.”

“
Caroline?
Hiya!”
she says in an overly dramatic way, like I’m a two-year-old. I hear her say to someone, “It’s Caroline!” Then a trill of laughter. “Are you purposely avoiding me?” she giggles.

“Yeah, no, that’s why I’m calling, I haven’t been—whatever—sorry I haven’t called.”

“I mean today, here—”

“Here where?”

“At your party, silly, I’m right here next to the grill. Can’t you see me? I can see you. You’re standing in the hall with that phone on a cord!” Another gin-and-tonic giggle.

I look out the back door. Diane is standing next to the grill, waving at me. “Yup, I see you.”

“You’re crazy, Caroline, why are you calling me? Why don’t you just come out here? Andy—guess who I’m talking to?” Diane is laughing with Andy about how crazy I am. Then she agrees to take the girls. I hang up the phone while they’re still yucking it up by the pool, Andy looking a bit uncomfortable.

I turn down the hall toward the dining room to take the front stairs back to my room.

“There you are. How ya doin’?” Andy must have walked the other way through the family room. His eyes drop down and check out my shirt. “Listen, we’re out of ice. I can’t believe the caterer only brought four bags. Now that you’re here, I’m gonna to run to the store.” He grabs the keys from the dish on the table by the front door. “The caterer can’t spare anyone, so I’ll be right back. Go talk to Meg. She’s been looking for you.”

I grab his forearm. “Andy, let me go. I’ll get the ice.
Please.
I need to do something.” I try to extract the keys from his hand by peeling his curled fingers back one by one.

“No, Caroline. You just came down. Absolutely out of the question.” He clenches his fist and takes my hand off his arm. “This party was for you—for us—the four of us to—I don’t know. Caroline …” His head slumps forward. “All of a sudden, it seems like it was a colossally bad idea. I mean, with you hiding upstairs and now down here avoiding everyone. What’s going on? Do you need to see a doctor? Or a—you know—or something. Do we? Am I supposed to be reading into something here? You gotta talk to me.”

“This is a great party, Andy.”

“Then why don’t you go out there and enjoy it.” He sweeps his hands toward the kitchen. “You deserve it, sweetie. Go talk to Meg, for God’s sakes. She’s really concerned. She told me she called you five times this week, and you didn’t call her back.”

“Please, Andy, I can’t handle the chit-chat right now. Okay?”