What exhausts me is dealing with you.It was an unkind thought, but it was the truth.
Somewhere along the way, it had become awkward, always having her around. And there were other things, things that weren’t her fault.
Sometimes, when I caught a glimpse of her from the corner of my eye, she looked so much like Christine that my heart would skip a beat. She was far from a dead ringer, but there were odd little physical similarities—the curve of her back when she knelt to talk to the girls, the shape of her calves, the way her toes perfectly slanted downward in her sandals. A year ago, these things were daggers to my heart. Now, they were just irrational annoyances.
And lately, it had gotten worse. She’d grown out her hair, and two weeks ago, she’d turned up blond. And she’d lost weight, as if she were trying for Christine’s willowy frame. I wondered if she thought that by making herself look more like Christine, I’d find her more attractive.
But then, maybe I was just imagining it all—which means I’m atotal ass. It’s possible I’m looking for reasons to resent her just because she’s similar to Christine, but not Christine. Close, but no cigar.
I finished chopping the onion. I slid the cutting board toward her and put the knife in the sink, then washed my hands. “If you’ve got things covered here, I’ll go hang out with the girls.”
“Oh. Okay, sure.” Was I looking for it because I felt kind of guilty, or did her voice carry an undertone of disappointment?
All I knew for sure was that the air seemed lighter in the foyer. I inhaled a deep lungful and headed toward the sound of my daughters’ laughter, the tightness in my chest melting with every step.
There they were, the two halves of my heart—sprawled on the floral rug in the middle of the den, their blond heads close together, shoving stuffed animals into their Barbie Dreamhouse. I stood in the doorway and drank in the scene. Winnie the Pooh hung upside down out the third-floor window, a naked Barbie rode astride Eeyore through the dollhouse living room, and a teddy bear’s pink fur overflowed the kitchen’s door and windows.
Zoey looked up at me with her big brown eyes, too serious for a five-year-old. “Hi, Daddy! We’re playin’ zoo.”
“Looks more likeAnimal House,” I remarked.
If Christine were here, she would have said something like, “Let’s make little teddy bear togas.” She’d always been willing to laugh at my lame attempts at humor, always been ready with a quick comeback, always been able to crack me up with a witty observation. Playful banter, I think it’s called—that’s another thing I miss about her. How long would I keep discovering new things I missed?
Or rediscovering old ones. My thoughts flicked to the woman next door.
“Let’s go to the real zoo this weekend,” Zoey said, cramming a toy zebra onto the dollhouse potty.
I sat down cross-legged on the floor beside them. “Okay.” We had a family membership to the Audubon Zoo, the Aquarium of the Americas, and the Insectarium in New Orleans, and when we’d lived there, the girls and I were frequent visitors.
“Aunt Jillian said she hasn’t been to the zoo since she was a teenager,” Zoey said. “She can’t wait to see the monkeys.”
Wait—the “we” included Jillian? My enthusiasm tanked. “How about just the three of us go?”
Zoey’s jaw jutted out. “I want Aunt Jillian to come, too. She said she could.”
Once again, plans had been set in motion without my knowledge or consent. I stifled a sigh, reminding myself that I’d moved here so that the girls would have a sense of family. Looking at them now, I had to say it was a good decision. They were both thriving; they slept through the night now, their appetites were good, and neither one had thrown a tantrum in months.
It was only natural that they’d grow attached to Jillian; she was their aunt, and she loved them. It was wrong of me to deprive them of her company just because I was a little paranoid. “Okay,” I said. “The more, the merrier. Let’s see if Grandpop and Gramma can come, too.” Having the in-laws along would defuse the Jillian factor.
“Wahoo!” exclaimed Zoey. She jumped to her feet and headed for the kitchen. “Aunt Jillian!” she called. “We’re all gonna go to the zoo!”
Sophie looked up at me. “Can the tooth fairy granddaughter lady come, too?”
The image of the brunette next door flashed in my brain like neon. “I, uh, think she’ll need to stay and take care of her grandmother.”
“We could ask her.”
“We don’t know her well enough to invite her out like that.” Although it would certainly make things a lot more interesting from my perspective.
“If she went with us, we’d get to know her better.”
I ruffled Sophie’s hair. “She’s just visiting. I don’t think she’ll be in town very long.”
I wondered just how long she planned to stay in Wedding Tree. I wondered what she did for a living and where she lived.
I wondered why I was wondering all these things about a woman I’d barely met.
I thought about the way she’d filled out that sparkly sheer gown, and I immediately knew the answer. I unwound my legs and rose. “Come on, sport. We’d better wash up for dinner.”
