The sound of the front door sends him into a tailspin. He drops the bangle while trying to put it back in the drawer and, for a moment, he can’t find it. Terrifying though it is that Susan hasn’t said anything, he’s also very much not ready to show her he’s found it. Her footsteps sound on the stairs now, light on the carpet. On his hands and knees, he swipes around blindly under the bed, trying to find the bracelet. She’s at the top of the stairs when he spots it, and he can hear her crossing the landing whilehe stretches his fingers to reach it. The bedroom door creaks open just as he slides her night-stand drawer shut. He jumps away, ending up at Bella’s crib.
“Oh!” Susan startles when she sees him. What does that mean? That she’s jumpy in general after all that’s gone on this week, or anxious specifically around him?
He puts a finger to his lips and nods toward Bella. Susan tiptoes forward to see their daughter and leans to place a kiss near but not on their baby’s head. They’ve both learned you never disturb a sleeping infant. Together, in silence, they turn to leave the room.
• • •
Downstairs, in the kitchen, Jon tries his best to make conversation. “How was Leesa’s?”
“Fine.”
“All good with Maeve and Aoife?”
“I didn’t see them.” She’s rummaging through a cupboard, looking for chocolate, he thinks.
“Will I start dinner?”
A shrug. “Whatever. I’m not hungry.”
“I’ll do lemon chicken. You can have it if you’re hungry later. Any news from Samir—he’s still away in Dubai, right?”
Samir is Leesa’s husband. Everyone likes Samir. Sometimes Jon hates Samir because of how much everyone else loves him. He’s the perfect husband. Perfect dad. Great cook. Good listener. Self-deprecating, funny, fun. Most annoyingly of all, he’s genuinely a nice guy, meaning Jon doesn’t really hate him—he grudgingly likes him as much as everyone else does.
“Still there.”
God. This is painful. And not at all like Susan, who usually talks nonstop, giving him minute details of every conversation she’s had that day. He has perfected a nodding-and-hmming routine over the years, with theoccasional question to show he’s listening, and right now, he’d love one of her run-downs on the day she’s had. But no. Monosyllabic answers followed by a retreating back is what’s on offer this evening.
She finds a bar of Lindt, makes herself a tea and goes through to the den, a room they only ever use if they’re watching different TV shows. Something that happens for episodes ofAnd Just Like That…(he can’t bear it) or golf (not her thing), but nothing else. Until now.
She closes the door without another word and he finds himself wishing Greta was here; she’d know what to do. He decides to try one more time, and opens the den door, just managing to stop himself from knocking first.
“Want to watch a film later? Or another episode ofSeverance?”
“Not really,” she says, though she adoresSeverance. “I’m just going to stay in here and catch up on oldDesperate Housewives.” She smiles thinly. “Why don’t you go for a run?”
He closes the door. She definitely knows. And she has the bracelet. Which means…well, his brain can’t compute the rest of what this means, because it’s far, far worse than just being caught having an affair.
31
Maeve
Sunday
Maeve is cross-legged on the couch, laptop open, phone in hand. Aoife is on the other couch, engrossed in her phone, but Maeve’s braced to close her laptop if Aoife comes any nearer. Aoife isincrediblynosy. On Maeve’s phone, the Nika pile-on continues. Mostly Ariana’s closest friends, but a handful of other kids from their class too. Thinly disguised Stories on their own accounts—posts about traitors and bitches and cheats. And how “NG better watch her back.” People love a fight. One post sticks out though, and that’s what’s made Maeve open Google and do her own search. A boy in their class (someone who’s not friends with Nika, Ariana or Zach, so no actual reason to be posting at all really) has just put up a picture of a packet of walnuts, with the caption “I wonder what happens if you hide these in someone’s lunch and that person has a tree-nut allergy?”
Maeve is horrified.
Truly.
She is sure she is horrified.
But OK, part of her is just a little bit…thrilled? Not that she’d wantanything bad to happen to Nika, despite everything Nika’s done to her. Of course not. But the idea that someone’s just posted this…That someone could actually do this and…what? Well, Google is telling her anaphylactic shock. Which can be fatal. Of course, Nika’d have an EpiPen; she always does. And this kid, he’s not actually going to act on it. But still. She stares at the search results and clicks into a link. It’s…interesting.
As she reads, she hears her mum answering the front door, then her Aunt Greta’s voice. Her mum is saying something about calling in to Moira Fitzpatrick with Susan. Greta is saying it’s making things worse and Leesa should have known better. Her mum and Greta drift into the kitchen and Maeve gets back to Google, adding “does EpiPen always work” to her search.
She clicks into an article from WebMed just as Greta comes through to the living room. Maeve’s hand hovers at her trackpad, ready to switch tabs if needed.
Greta asks how they are, though they saw her on Friday night and nothing much has happened since. Maeve doesn’t mind. She likes Greta. And she’s always been Greta’s favorite. It’s because she was the first niece and because Greta doesn’t have kids and because Greta is her godmother, she supposes, but also because they’re alike. Quieter than the others, but practical and smart and good in a crisis. Mostly.
