No Matter What
Richard set down the remote and looked around his living room. Funny that he hadn’t realized he was lonely. The kids were on his mind a lot, sure, but that wasn’t the same thing. By logical extension, he thought, I could call Bree, but reminded himself it was Friday evening and she was sure to be out. Hell, Lexa probably would be, too. He’d be stunned if she didn’t already have another guy on her string. Maybe two or three. He knew from pictures of her with the kids that she’d stayed beautiful. Maybe Davis hadn’t been paying enough attention to her. Could be he’d gotten too wrapped up in work. Alexa needed to have a man completely besotted with her or she’d look for another one who would be. Eventually Richard had come to feel sorry for her, so insufficient unto herself. She had to see a dazzling reflection of herself in someone’s eyes to feel as if she was worth anything.
Took him long enough to figure that out. But then, good God, he’d been only months older than Trev was now when he made his seventeen-year-old girlfriend pregnant. Mind-boggling thought.
Grimacing, he reached to turn on his computer. At least if he worked, he could accomplish something concrete. Bree’s dad might be an electrician, but he was a pretty damn well-to-do one. He planned to have his bid for the electrical work on a small strip mall in Monday morning. No time like the present to finish it up.
* * *
IT WASN’T FULL DARK WHEN the doorbell rang Sunday night, but Molly knew who she’d find on her doorstep. The little ghosts and robots and princesses came out early.
She usually enjoyed Halloween and had been determined to try to enjoy this one, too. West Fork was the kind of town where it was still safe for children to knock on doors begging for candy. Too bad Cait had already ruined Molly’s favorite part of the holiday—carving the jack-o’-lanterns. They’d done it together since Cait was big enough to draw a face on the pumpkins with her marker and help spoon out seeds and slime. This year, when Molly announced that she’d bought two pumpkins, Cait had said flatly, “Wow.”
“You don’t have dance tonight. I thought this would be a good evening to carve them.”
Her daughter only shrugged. “I don’t feel like it.”
Without another word, Molly had marched downstairs, spread newspaper on the table to contain the mess and done it herself. She didn’t have a grain of Cait’s artistic ability, though, so hers were simple—triangular eyes, noses, wide mouths with missing teeth. But, by God, they had jack-o’-lanterns, one on the porch steps and the other on the railing.
Not half an hour ago, she’d lit candles inside them. Wrapped candy was heaped in a huge ceramic bowl on a side table by the front door, ready to hand out. She’d gotten dinner on the table early—although not as early as she’d planned—so they’d be ready. Cait had even come down when she called.
She then sat pretending to eat, head bent so her hair shielded her face, responding in monosyllables if at all to Molly’s one-sided chatter. The few glimpses Molly had gotten of Cait’s face had scared her. She’d been starkly pale and utterly withdrawn. Something was wrong. Even more wrong.
In irritation, Molly thought, Sure, there is. Something earth-shattering like Trevor acquiring a new girlfriend. She was getting exasperated enough at Cait’s histrionics to keep her from panicking. The sound of the doorbell was a relief.
She opened the door to a cry of “Trick or treat!” and found two small faces grinning up at her. The little girl wore a remarkably clever horse costume—she was a palomino with a shining golden mane and tail—while the boy was a pirate.
“Happy Halloween,” she told them, dropping candy into their proffered orange buckets and waving at the dad who hovered on the front walk. Another group was already turning up toward her porch.
She hadn’t quite finished dinner, but that was okay. Maybe Cait would condescend to take a turn. At least that didn’t involve interaction with her mother, the enemy. And she hadn’t said anything about going out.
To Molly’s surprise she appeared from the kitchen and grinned at the latest group. “Wow, you’re so cute. And you’re scary!” she said, handing out the candy. She mimicked fear at a Frankenstein. Giggling, the two carefully climbed down the porch steps to rejoin a shadowy adult figure—Mom this time?
Studying Cait carefully, Molly thought there was still something odd going on. Did she seem…frenetic?
Wow, I’m getting paranoid.
“You should have seen the horse,” Molly said, closing the door and smiling at her daughter. “The costume was pretty amazing. Almost better than yours.”