The Comfort of Lies (11 page)

She sipped the coffee each time she hit a light, and every light was welcome. More than anything, Caroline missed being able to move on her own time. Her research would approach a tantalizing moment, where clues led to roads she was certain could break hypotheses wide open, and still she’d have to leave for home. Before Savannah, there was never a problem in digging in, feeling hours slide by like seconds as her notes piled up.

Peter was never a problem previously. He also found that same active joy in breaking the back of problems at work, but now he also found that joy with Savannah.

She pulled into their driveway.

“Caroline?” Peter stood in the doorway. Not glowering, but nowhere near smiling.

“How was she?” Caroline asked.

“She was scared.” He folded his arms, looking remarkably and uncomfortably like his father. Peter’s parents had kept their children at the center of their lives, just like Caroline’s mother.

Caroline’s father left his children—Caroline and her two sisters—to his wife, but nobody complained. Whatever Dad provided, he’d provided well. When he taught them to swim, they learned the skill perfectly, breathing as evenly as Olympic athletes. When he cooked a Sunday breakfast, the French toast came out flawless: crisp and buttery, soft in the middle.

Her father’s love was never questioned. No one in the family resented that his deepest energies were saved for his work. They didn’t confuse his love and his energy. He earned enough that they lacked for nothing, and he instilled the morals that ensured they never asked for too much. They learned by example: work, family, and community all needed fealty, but the labor could be divided.

Caroline believed herself to be more like her father than her mother. She wished she could get away with the pattern of adequate yet simple paternal gestures: make a perfect Sunday breakfast, read a story each night, and devote the rest of her time to work.

“Any problem getting her to bed?” Caroline asked.

“She was really upset. I think she felt abandoned.”

“I didn’t abandon her.” Acid from the coffee burned in Caroline’s stomach. “I thought you were taking care of it.”

“Whoa! I didn’t say you abandoned her, I said she felt that way. And I never said I could come home. You virtually hung up on me!”

“Peter, I was in the middle of—”

“Jesus, Caro. You’re always in the middle of something lately.”

Peter’s frustration baffled her. What was she supposed to do? Should she not lean on him?

“Sometimes I think you forget our lives have changed,” he said. “Savannah has to take precedence.”

Caroline could scream, but wasn’t he right? She twisted her head from side to side, feeling everything inside her upper body cramp into an iron column. Peter put his hand on the back of her neck, and Caroline arched in, wanting comfort even as she hated his words.

“You have to learn to compromise.” Peter dug his thumbs into the spot on the side of her neck that always tensed first.

“Mmm . . . but sometimes I just can’t,” she said. “Really. Sometimes I simply can’t.”

Peter removed his hands from her neck and stepped into her line of vision. “What if she fell out of a tree, Caro? Honestly? What if a car hit her? Would you come then? Would that make you leave the hospital?”

 • • • 

The phone rang before six o’clock in the morning.

That couldn’t be good.

Peter leaned over her and grabbed the phone. Having grown up in a large family meant that he was always on call for disaster. Caroline listened to Peter’s side of the conversation, trying to fill in the missing sentences.

“Uh-huh. No, no, we’ll be fine.”

Nanny Rose.

“No, really, you don’t have to send her.”

Was Rose offering that twit of a niece?

“When my mother gets migraines, she steams with eucalyptus leaves. You should try it.”

Peter was the ultimate fix-it guy, as her mother often reminded her. “You have someone special there, Caroline. Don’t take him for granted.”

“No, it’s okay. No, don’t call her,” Peter said.

Caroline waved her arms,
No, no,
at Peter. After yesterday’s argument, she didn’t want him taking the day off. He held up a hand to stop her, turning away and covering his free ear.

“No. It’s fine.” He held the phone after disconnecting with Nanny Rose. “I better call Ellie and tell her to cancel my appointments.”

Caroline sat cross-legged on the bed. “Peter, you just told me how difficult it is to take off so much time.”

“What are our options? We’re not leaving Savannah with that Janine.” He rolled over and swung his legs off the bed.

Caroline put her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll do it. I’ll take the day off.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Really?”

His look of incredulity annoyed her no end. Who did he think got Savannah ready for Nanny every morning? Took her to the doctor? The dentist? Who smiled as Savannah dragged her from store to store until they finally found a Halloween costume that met with their daughter’s approval?

“Okay,” he said when she deliberately didn’t speak. “Terrific.”

Caroline gave a faint smile. Even if he meant it to be flattering, his words didn’t seem like a compliment. “You don’t have to make it sound like I’m running into a blazing building.” She twisted the edge of the comforter into a complicated knot. She had to teach a class in two hours. Three surgeons were expecting her in the afternoon. Reports were due. It was close to the end of the month. Moreover, weren’t they interviewing a new part-time pathologist to cover weekends?

“Maybe I can take her into work with me,” Caroline said. “Ana could watch her when I’m out of the office. I’ll bring in the iPad, for movies. Or books—I’ll download some new books.”

“An iPad can’t watch Savannah. Forget it. I already said I’d do it.” Peter lay back and put his hands behind his head. He stared up at the ceiling as though he preferred it to looking at Caroline.

She opened her mouth to defend herself, but nothing came out. She fell down on the bed beside Peter. He continued looking at the ceiling, his jaw tight, his mouth pressed to a deep drawn-in line.

“Come on. Look at me.” Caroline placed her hand on his bristly cheek, trying to turn him, but he remained a mummy. “Haven’t you ever said something in the excitement of a moment? Wanted to do something good and then realized it was impossible?”

He turned and looked at her. “Not when it comes to my family.”

 • • • 

It was Saturday, and Caroline wanted to please Peter and Savannah. She hurried downstairs while Peter showered and Savannah slept. Caroline had at least twenty minutes before everyone gathered for breakfast.

She had an appointment for a makeover in a few hours, and if that wasn’t unusual enough, she planned to bring along Savannah. When she’d received the baffling offer for a free makeover, she shocked herself by scheduling an appointment, desperate enough to think it might bring her back to life. Somewhere she’d lost her physical desires. Her need for Peter, once so strong, had at first dissipated, then disappeared, and now she dreaded his touch.

Believing that a facial and having cosmetics smeared on her face might help her was ridiculous, but Caroline wanted a miracle, even one from a jar.

Despite being a bit nervous, as this was so wholly outside her ken, Caroline felt unexpected optimism about going to juliette&gwynne, though she hoped their affected use of lower-case letters didn’t portend a place so chichi that Caroline would be dressed wrong no matter what she chose—which, considering her closet, was not unlikely.

She wondered what database had lifted her name from obscurity and deemed her worthy of Juliette Soros’s personal ministrations. Caroline lacked familiarity with the world of beauty authorities, but when she’d mentioned Juliette’s name to a lab assistant, she’d reacted as though Caroline had been granted an audience with the Queen.

Caroline mixed eggs into a bowl of broken bits of bread, her quick version of French toast. As the soggy mess sizzled, Savannah rode into the kitchen on Peter’s shoulders, smiling as she always did when near her father. Peter was lit up in that way he did only with Savannah. Had he once produced such high wattage for Caroline?

“Look!” Caroline tipped the pan toward them. “French toast eggs.”

“Way to go.” Peter swung Savannah down and placed her in a chair in one graceful swoop. His wide shoulders that tapered to a trim waist made him appear taller than five foot eight. He and Caroline could see eye to eye if Peter stretched just a bit. Caroline scraped the bready eggs from the pan onto three waiting plates.

“Syrup, anyone?” Peter poured a stream from a dangerously high starting point.

“Daddy!” Savannah bounced in her chair. “You’ll spill it!”

Peter twirled an imaginary moustache while speaking in a vaguely faux-Teutonic accent. “Amazing Daddy spills nothing.”

Caroline squeezed Peter’s shoulder. “Does Amazing Daddy kiss Amazing Mommy?” She tried to smile brightly, wanting to escape the bleak fog between them.

“What do you think, Savannah? Should we give Amazing Mommy a kiss?”

Savannah giggled. “Oh, yes please! Kiss Mommy.”

Peter turned and pressed his warm lips to Caroline’s cooler ones.

 • • • 

The shop in Wellesley exuded so much charm and relaxation that Caroline tensed under the expectation. Downy chairs upholstered in white matelasse embraced well-dressed women. Stacks of glossy magazines invited perusing. Purple accents in the room, reminiscent of royal robes, softened the matte black decorating scheme.

Juliette Soros walked in, smiled, and after a brief but warm introduction, turned to Savannah. Juliette was almost Caroline’s height, but where Caroline was a straight line, Juliette curved in a true hourglass. Her perfect nose was the one Caroline would choose if she could. Caroline always noticed noses first. Unfamiliar desire stirred at the sight of all the glossy, hopeful packages. An alien and uncomfortable greed overtook her for a moment.

“Aren’t you lovely?” Juliette said to Savannah. “I’m Juliette, and I promise to make sure you have fun while you’re here, sweetheart. Why don’t you come with me?”

Juliette smiled and stretched her arm toward the child. Savannah tucked her hand inside Juliette’s as though she’d always known her. Juliette then directed her kindness at Caroline. “You too, Mom. Follow us.”

Caroline followed her daughter and Juliette to a private room, where the woman ushered them in as though they were the most important people in the world.

“Make yourself comfortable.” Juliette’s grin showed straight sparkling teeth. Caroline ran her tongue over the rough spot where she’d
chipped a tooth in high school soccer. Her mother’s stiff-upper-lip background made her dismissive of imperfections inflicted by childhood accidents. Caroline’s youngest sister carried a ragged scar on her chin from when she’d fallen off the porch and been given a Band-Aid when stitches had been needed.

“Please, have a seat.” Juliette indicated a sleek leather and chrome chair facing a mirror and a bank of glossy white drawers.

Caroline wondered how much of Juliette’s golden beauty was artifice and how much a lucky draw from the genetic lottery. While still holding Savannah’s hand, Juliette put a warm, sure hand on Caroline’s back and with gentle pressure prompted her to a chair. Once Caroline sat, Juliette leaned over her shoulder and gave an approving nod as she looked at both their reflections.

No amount of cosmetics could make that much of a difference. Even Juliette’s honey-colored hair looked natural.

“We’re going to have some fun,” Juliette said before turning to Savannah. “As for you, cutie, I have a surprise for you.”

Juliette winked at Caroline and then reached for a medium-sized box. “This is for you, sweetheart.”

Savannah gave a shy smile and glanced at Caroline for permission.

“It’s okay, hon. Open it.” Caroline glanced at Juliette, trying to gauge her reaction to Caroline’s words. Did she think Caroline prudent and caring, or rigid and overstrict? “We’ve trained her about taking things from strangers.”

“Wise. When my boys where her age, I hated any moment they were out of my sight.” Juliette laughed. “I still do.”

Savannah held the box, seeming excited even as she approached the present as cautiously as she did everything.

“Being a mother is terrifying, isn’t it?” Caroline said.

“It is. I haven’t been able to ignore a phone call since having children. Of course, you also have the terror of your work. Analyzing a person’s chances for life or death. What a difference from this.” Juliette swept her arms around the room, with its frosted bottles of creams, the brushes, and the tiers of lipsticks, and rolled her eyes.

“How do you know what I do?” Alarm prickled at Caroline. Had
someone at work mentioned how badly she’d aged? What had they said? Ideas rolled through Caroline’s mind in rapid succession as she stared at her mirror image in uncomfortable full reveal.

“Oh, that’s how I—we—picked you. We find local women who work in professions where they can’t indulge themselves. Women like you: locked away in a lab, and working on childhood cancer, no less. We offer special services as thanks to those who do the most difficult work. We hoped you might provide an entrée into the field. It’s our way of giving back, since we’ve had such success.”

“Oh.” Caroline nodded. “I did wonder. Why didn’t you say that in the letter?”

“We didn’t want to raise expectations until we’ve met with you.” Juliette put a hand on Savannah’s shoulder. “Let’s get this little girl settled, so you and I can begin.”

Juliette led Savannah to a small leather couch. “Tell me what you think, honey.” She indicated the still unopened box. “I’m more used to boys than little girls.”

Savannah stroked the chalky black paper and deep purple ribbon. “Can I keep the ribbon? For my dolls?”

“Of course you can.” Caroline worried she sounded snappish and that Savannah sounded beaten down, as though Caroline withheld ribbons on a regular basis.

 • • • 

Caroline waited for Juliette to return from the child care room, where she’d taken Savannah to play with her paper dolls, the new kind where clothes stuck by the magic of static cling and required no scissors.