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Kincaid, Part One

Page 145

by B.W. Lacey

Leanne reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

“Sam, it sounds as though you’re struggling more than you admit. Is Richard helping you, or is he still playing the provider while you handle everything else?”

I hesitated before answering. “He tries in his own way. He’s gone so often, and when he comes home, we barely connect anymore. Sometimes, it feels as though we’re roommates raising a baby. I miss what we had before.”

She studied me carefully. “If there’s more happening, you can tell me. If you’re unhappy or lonely, I need to know. I’ll drop everything and come back. I can rearrange shoots, cancel flights, and sleep on your couch. I hate thinking about you alone in this enormous house with only the baby for company.”

“You can’t abandon your career because I am struggling.”

“I said I’d rearrange things. I didn’t say I’d abandon anything.”

“I know. Thank you.”

I forced a brighter smile and changed the subject. “Enough about my problems. Tell me what happened with the married man in Barcelona.”

Leanne allowed the deflection and returned to her animated stories, but she continued glancing at me while she talked. We talked until Seth began fussing for his lunch and the afternoon sunlight turned golden across the kitchen floor.

“Richard is still watching Seth tomorrow, right?” she asked.

“Yes. He promised to keep him all day.”

“Good. Then I’m picking you up at ten. We’ll have lunch, go shopping, and do whatever else we want without discussing diapers, bottles, or husbands.”

I smiled. “I’m looking forward to it.”

When she finally gathered her things at the door, her embrace lingered.

“Tomorrow is going to be good for you,” she said. “And if you need me before then, call. I mean it, Sam. Day or night.”

“I promise,” I said.

A uniformed driver waited beside a black Lincoln Town Car at the end of the front walk. He opened the rear door as Leanne approached, then closed it behind her once she settled inside. I watched the car disappear down the driveway, its taillights fading into the dusk. After she left, I stood in the foyer for several minutes, already wishing tomorrow would come sooner. Without Leanne there to distract me, the rest of the evening felt unbearably long.

For the next two hours, I wandered through the house because I couldn’t settle down. I paced the rooms with Seth perched on my hip, reassured by his weight against me. I tried to occupy myself with small tasks, such as straightening cushions that didn’t need straightening and wiping down counters that were already clean.

Then someone knocked hard enough to make me jump. I opened the door with Seth still balanced on my hip.

The woman standing on the porch was beautiful, but she looked exhausted and unwell. She was thin, with eyes that were too bright and restless. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and loose strands fell across her face. Her clothes hung loosely on her frame. She held a baby carrier in one arm and a worn diaper bag in the other. Inside the carrier, a newborn baby slept fitfully, his tiny fists twitching beneath the glow of the porch light.

It took me a second to recognize her.

It was Maggie, the woman from the gala.

She adjusted the infant carrier on her arm and looked me straight in the eye.

“Hi, Samantha… Look, we need to talk.”

Chapter 33

Maggie

Istood on the front porch of Samantha and Richard’s house with Luke asleep in the infant carrier.

I didn’t ring the bell right away. I just stood there studying the place. The landscaping was perfect. Manicured hedges ran along the walkway and bright flowers spilled out of pots beside the front door. Kids’ toys sat stacked neatly against the railing and Richard’s expensive black car gleamed in the driveway. Everything looked cared for. The sight carved right into me.

Richard never moved into the beach house. A night here and there, sure, but that was it. This was where he built his actual life. I could feel it in every little detail. I told myself I only came here to make Samantha understand the truth. I kept repeating it in my head until it sounded almost real. It sounded better than admitting I came here still hoping he would finally choose me and our baby.

I looked down at Luke. His tiny hand slipped free of the blanket. I brushed my finger across his palm and whispered that everything was going to be okay.