The Book of Someday (16 page)

“This the girl you tell me about?” Mrs. Wang asks AnnaLee.

Persephone’s expression promptly becomes closed and defensive.

Mrs. Wang is giving Persephone a knowing smile. “You the one good at sketching? You the big creative talent?”

Persephone, holding Bella close, is incredulous, asking AnnaLee: “It that what you really said about me?”

“She say she think your subject matter crazy, but she also think maybe you turn out to be some kind of artistic genius.” Mrs. Wang steps back, studying Persephone. “I think same thing about my granddaughter. Except she genius with design—with decorating. She doing design for Mrs. Jahn’s party. You want to meet fellow genius?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Persephone’s shrug is uncertain.

AnnaLee takes Bella from Persephone—and Mrs. Wang calls to a slender, stylish girl who is arranging a display in one of the store’s windows. “Rebecca! I want you say hello to somebody who is great artist, like you.”

As soon as Mrs. Wang has started Persephone toward the window with a brisk push, she turns to AnnaLee, and in a low whisper, asks: “I told you when party is, right?”

AnnaLee nods. “Yes. It’s all I can think about. I’ve had it on my calendar for weeks but—”

“Don’t worry. Don’t worry.” Mrs. Wang has noticed that the heavily jeweled woman, Mrs. Jahn, is walking toward them. Mrs. Wang quickly drops her voice even lower as she tells AnnaLee: “I take care of everything. After I introduce you, if she doesn’t think of it herself, I make sure she invite you.”

Now that the woman has come closer, AnnaLee sees that she is probably in her late sixties and has had skillfully done plastic surgery. Her face is as seamless as the shell of a freshly laid egg; the only spark of life is in her eyes. They’re trusting and kind.

“I’m Amelia Jahn. My husband and I recently bought the old Evans estate on Bricklane Road and we—” She stops and leans in toward Bella, marveling at her. “What a precious little girl.” Then she asks AnnaLee: “Have you and your family lived here long?”

“I was born here, in the next town over, in Glen Cove. I went away to college, and after that to Manhattan—I was a dancer. Then for a while, when my husband got his first job after law school, we lived in New Jersey. I came back here just after my daughter was born and we moved into the house where I was raised.”

“Oh, how wonderful for you! This is such a lovely area.”

“You should see her house where she live with her husband,” Mrs. Wang says. “Home of very old family. Many antiques. Very beautiful.”

AnnaLee is blushing, embarrassed by this shell game she’s playing.

“You grew up here.” There is excitement in Mrs. Jahn’s voice. “You must know quite a few people.”

“Oh, she know all the important families,” Mrs. Wang says.

“I would love to get acquainted with some of my neighbors.” Mrs. Jahn is addressing this to AnnaLee with deference, and eagerness.

“I’d be happy to introduce you,” AnnaLee tells her. “I can only imagine how difficult it must be to make friends in a place where you don’t know anyone at all.”

Mrs. Jahn’s face lights with sudden inspiration, and she says: “I’m having an end-of-summer gala in two weeks. The guests are mostly business associates of my husband’s. All Manhattan people. No one from around here. It’s a costume party—a Gatsby theme.”

“
Great
Gatsby
. Famous book from long time ago about Roaring Twenties,” Mrs. Wang says. “Very good theme for party.”

“I’d be honored if you’d come.” Mrs. Jahn extends her hand to AnnaLee. “You seem so nice, I want us to know each other.”

AnnaLee has to reposition her hold on Bella before she can accept Mrs. Jahn’s offer of a handshake. And she finds that Mrs. Jahn’s grip is warm and steady, as if the two of them are already old friends.

“Lucky you came in at same time as Mrs. Jahn have her appointment with me today,” Mrs. Wang tells AnnaLee. Then she beams at Mrs. Jahn and adds: “Lucky thing you meet each other. Lucky because…”

AnnaLee’s attention has shifted from Mrs. Wang to the shop’s open front door. Through it AnnaLee is seeing Jack. And it makes her think of the timeworn phrase “speak of the devil.”

Jack is strolling along, on the other side of the street. Contentedly reading from an open book he’s holding in his hand.

AnnaLee instinctively knows that he has just gotten off the train. She knows that, even though it’s only a few minutes before one o’clock, he has already put an end to his workday. Because he has found it intolerable.

And the sensation in AnnaLee is as if she’s choking. Like she’s swallowing a mouthful of lead.

She is counting the days until Mrs. Jahn’s party—praying for a miracle.

Livvi

Flintridge, California ~ 2012

The sensation of swallowing lead. This is what Livvi is experiencing while trying to make sense of what she’s seeing. The blond in Andrew’s driveway, leaning against a sleek BMW, murmuring into a cell phone. And the dark-haired child resolutely standing on Andrew’s doorstep.

The child who is claiming her name is Grace and that the young blond is Bree, her nanny. The fancifully dressed little girl in a ruffled yellow skirt and polka-dot sneakers, who has seemingly appeared out of nowhere, clutching a stuffed pink pig and announcing: “I want my daddy.”

It
has
to
be
a
mistake,
Livvi is telling herself.
She’s at the wrong house. Please let it be that she’s at the wrong house.

But there’s something in the child’s eyes, in her body language, that says she knows this place; she belongs here.

Against all hope, already knowing the answer, Livvi asks: “What’s your daddy’s name?”

“Andrew.”

Livvi is heartsick.

The little girl cocks her head and looks at Livvi as if she’s mildly confused by her. Then she simply steps around Livvi and walks into the house.

Trying desperately to understand all of this, Livvi is following Grace into the living room—listening to Grace say: “I told Bree to bring me. For a surprise. I have something special to show Daddy.”

Grace is eagerly looking toward the kitchen area, then toward the open bedroom door. “If nobody was here, Bree said we’d go home and have ice cream.”

Livvi is barely able to speak. “Home? Where do you live?”

“Palos Verdes.” Grace is scrutinizing Livvi. Intently.

“But Palos Verdes is forty-five miles from here.” Livvi is bewildered. Grace’s story doesn’t make sense. “Why would your nanny drive all that way without finding out, first, if your…your daddy was going to be home…”

Livvi’s voice has trailed away. She’s struggling to comprehend the news of Andrew being a father. Yet it’s as if she has already absorbed the blow. Accepted it with a kind of blank resignation. On some level, from her earliest days, Livvi has been shown that being truly loved was something meant for other people, not for her.

“We didn’t drive for long, we were here already,” Grace is explaining. “Bree’s mommy lives in a town…I don’t know the name…but it’s close to here. We were at her house, visiting. She has bunnies. She lets me play with them.” Grace is now at the other end of the room, putting the stuffed pig onto the floor and tugging at the sliding doors that lead to the rear yard.

Livvi is still lost in thought, blinded with pain, as she asks Grace: “Where are you going?”

“To the pool,” Grace explains. “Sometimes when my daddy isn’t inside, that’s where he is.”

For a fraction of a second the look on Grace’s face is utterly solemn, then she gives Livvi a smile that’s radiant and hopeful. Absolutely enchanting. So tentative and vulnerable—it’s almost heart-rending.

It creates a shock of recognition in Livvi—and instantly she’s determined not to bring any hurt, any disappointment, to this strangely endearing little girl.

Livvi gently takes Grace’s hand and leads her back toward the center of the room. “Your…your daddy…isn’t here right now, he’s at work.”

“Will you let me stay till he comes?” Grace asks. “I really want to show him my surprise. It’s special.”

And again there is that solemn, earnest look followed, after a brief hesitation, by the bright smile. It’s as if Grace has learned to be guarded, a little cautious, before fully revealing herself.

Seeing that small wound in Grace, and knowing that Andrew may have had a hand in putting it there, is tearing Livvi apart. It’s a wound that has been in Livvi for as long as she can remember.

She’s barely able to speak. She has to clear her throat several times before she can say: “Grace, I have to leave now. So…I’m going to go outside, and ask your nanny to come in and take care of you until your daddy gets home.”

Livvi has picked up her purse. And walked to the door. But as she’s opening it, she’s seeing that the driveway is empty. The BMW is gone—along with Bree, the blond nanny.

Livvi is alone with Andrew’s child. And she has no way to deal with her. Livvi doesn’t even have a car. When Livvi came here, David had dropped her off, after the meeting in Culver City. An hour ago.

During that hour it’s as if her world has been ripped off its axis and sent hurtling into space—Livvi is utterly and completely at a loss. All she can think about is getting out of this house.

“What’s Bree’s number?” she’s asking. “We need to call your nanny and tell her to come back.” Livvi has managed to pull her phone from her pocket, but her grip is shaky; the icons on the screen are jittering and floating.

There’s something strangely sympathetic in Grace’s expression as she reaches up and takes the phone from Livvi. With a small frown of concentration, she begins to enter a number. Then she stops and hands the phone back to Livvi. “The light went out.”

Livvi presses the phone’s power button. Nothing. The screen stays dark. The battery has died. Livvi glances up, scanning the room.

“What are you looking for?” Grace asks.

“A land line. The kind of phone that plugs into a wall.”

“Oh. Daddy doesn’t have a phone like that—just his cell phone.”

A mild panic is rippling through Livvi. Time is slipping by—the nanny, Bree, is getting farther and farther away. Livvi doesn’t want to be here when Andrew arrives. She doesn’t want an awkward confrontation. Not in front of Grace.

“Do you work for my daddy?” Grace is asking.

It takes Livvi a beat or two before she can think clearly. “No, honey, I don’t work for your daddy. I’m…I’m a friend of his. We’re friends.”

Grace seems nervous. “Are you special friends?”

While Livvi is trying to decide on the appropriate thing to say, Grace tells her: “Mommy doesn’t like it when Daddy has special friends who are ladies.”

Grace has delivered this news with a sense of apprehension, and a hint of concern, as if, in spite of whatever her own worries might be, she wants to keep Livvi away from harm.

The word
Mommy
has hit Livvi with brutal force.

Does
Andrew
have
a
wife?
Getting the answer to that would be as easy as saying to Grace,
Are
your
mommy
and
daddy
married
to
each
other?

Livvi’s not sure she wants to ask, not certain she wants to hear the answer. The only thing she is sure of is that she doesn’t want to hurt Grace in any way. So instead of asking questions, Livvi is sliding her phone back into her pocket and suggesting: “Let’s go to the neighbors’ house and use their phone to call Bree.”

Grace’s distress is instantaneous. “I don’t want to. I don’t like the old man next door. He’s mean. He scares me.”

Livvi can see that Grace is genuinely afraid, and wants to take the fear away. “What if we don’t go to the old man’s house? What if we go to one of the other houses?”

Grace shakes her head no. She’s clutching her little stuffed pig, and pleading: “I don’t want to go anywhere. I only want to wait for my daddy.”

Livvi glances across the living room to the clock on the steel desk. It’s just before noon. Andrew should be arriving any minute now.

Without intending to, Livvi has already put her purse down at the end of the sofa. She’s realizing that, as much as she wants to leave and avoid dealing with Andrew, she wants, even more, to stay and comfort Grace. She wants to soothe whatever it is in this little girl that’s making her so anxious. “It’s okay,” she’s telling Grace. “You don’t have to go anywhere you don’t want to. We’ll stay right here, together, and wait for your dad.”

Grace is reluctant, guarded. “You promise…?”

Livvi nods.

“Pinky promise?”

Livvi nods again.

After a long pause—Grace smiles.

A radiant smile that goes straight to Livvi’s heart.

***

What Livvi assumed would be a wait lasting only a few minutes has spanned more than four hours. It’s now shortly before five o’clock. And there’s still no sign of Andrew. Yet Livvi hasn’t made any effort to find a way out of Andrew’s house.

Every time she has checked her watch or looked toward the door, thinking she should go to one of the neighbors and ask to use the phone, she has deliberately postponed doing it.

Livvi is staying marooned in Andrew’s house because she doesn’t want to end her connection with Grace.

There has been an innate warmth—an instinctive trust—between Livvi and Grace.

It has stirred an emotion in Livvi that she can’t quite name. One that is incredibly gentle and fiercely determined. Something that feels precious and powerful. A critically important piece of knowledge she once had and has now forgotten. And she’s determined not to leave until she can remember exactly what it is.

Livvi is on the sofa, paging through a magazine—Grace is nearby, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table. There is an open, jumbo-size box of crayons on the tabletop, along with a large sheet of paper.

Grace, deep in thought, is concentrating on the picture she’s drawing. Her back is resting lightly against Livvi’s leg.