SHUDDERVILLE (5 page)

“Mommy, what are you doing?” Jayla giggled in her arms.

“Sweetie? Is it really you?”

“Who do you think it is, silly?”

“Let me look at you.” Sophie set her down on the floor, knelt in front of her and examined her fingers and toes, her heart-shaped face, her rosy cheeks, her pretty long brown hair, her cute little nose. She was afraid to move. Afraid to speak. Afraid she might break the spell. Sunlight streamed in through the windows and fell across the blue-tiled floor, and everything was exactly the same as it had been the day before, only Jayla was standing in front of her. It was a miracle.

“I missed you so much,” Sophie said, hugging her again.

“Mommy,” she protested. “I’ve been here all along.”

“You’re not a hallucination?”

Her little girl sighed deeply, color rising in her cheeks. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Anything you want.”

Her eyes lit up. “Anything?”

Sophie’s horrid old life had ended. A new life had begun. “Okay. What do we have to eat?” she asked happily. “Let’s go look.”

“Okay.”

She took her daughter’s hand and led her into the kitchen, where the counters were cluttered with dirty dishes, orange peels, old bills and empty wine bottles.

“Oops. Mommy forgot to clean up,” Sophie said quickly, throwing away the garbage and stacking the dishes in the dishwasher. Realizing she wasn’t exactly stocked up to feed a family these days.

“It smells like bananas in here,” Jayla said, wrinkling her nose.

Sophie was overcome with happiness. She patted her daughter on the back just to make sure she was real. And she was. Real. Solid. Jayla. This was actually happening. Everything had come true. She wasn’t insane. Mandelbaum had fulfilled his promise, and Ryan had actually slashed his wrist and—oh my God.

“Hey, Mommy?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Do we have any eggs?”

“Ha,” Sophie said, checking the refrigerator. “Yes, we do.”

“Are they new eggs or old eggs?” Jayla asked, dragging a wooden chair over to the counter. She scrambled onto the seat and started poking around inside the kitchen cabinets. “Maybe we should have cereal instead,” she said with adult practicality. She took down the mostly empty cereal boxes Sophie had forgotten to toss out, shook them one by one, and lined them up on the counter, while Sophie cleared a space for her. “Remember last time?” Jayla said softly. “Those eggs made us sick. Do we have any milk?”

“Whatever you want,” Sophie said excitedly. Quietly freaking out. This was too good to be true. That was the problem. It was
too fucking good to be true
.

“What’s the expedition date, Mommy?”

“The expedition date?” She smiled and took out the last carton of milk. “Oops. It’s expired.” She shivered a little and drew her daughter close. “That’s okay, don’t worry. I’ll go out and buy us some more of everything, okay?” she promised. “New milk and new eggs. No more bad eggs. How’s that sound? We’ll have pancakes and cereal and waffles, whatever you want. Okay, sweetie?”

There was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it,” Sophie said. “Meanwhile, you set the table.”

“Okay.”

“Pancakes, waffles, whatever you like.” She crossed the dirty piles of laundry on the floor and accidentally kicked a beer bottle with her foot. It rolled noisily across the hardwood floor and disappeared under the sofa. She practically skipped out into the foyer like a kid. “Yes?” she said, opening the door.

Mandelbaum was standing in the hallway with two strangers. A tall man and a short woman. They both looked so crisp and efficient, it hurt her eyes.

“Hello? Can I help you?”

“My name is John Driscoll,” the man introduced himself. He had gray hair, gray eyes and a stern expression. He carried an official-looking clipboard.

“Hello. What’s this about?” Sophie asked with growing apprehension.

The short woman’s gaze swept up and down the length of Sophie, and then slid critically across the floor over a landscape of empty beer bottles, ashtrays choked with cigarettes and dirty laundry.

“Can I help you?” Sophie said.

“We’re from Child Protective Services. We’re investigating this household for possible neglect and child endangerment. We’re acting on an anonymous tip. We have a court order.”

“What court order?” she gasped.

The woman handed Sophie the paperwork.

She tried to read it, but it was all a blur. A jumble of legalese and jargon.

Mandelbaum nudged the woman and pointed at Jayla. “There’s she is.”

“Tobias?” Sophie said with alarm. “What’s going on?”

He seemed to see right through her. His hair was neatly combed, and he wore an alligator shirt, khaki pants and a pair of new-looking loafers. Turning to the caseworkers, he said, “You see?”

The short woman said, “Filthy kitchen. Empty liquor bottles. Dirty laundry.”

John Driscoll knelt down and said, “Come here, Jayla.”

Sophie tried to shield her child from these strangers. “What do you want?”

“Your daughter needs to be placed in protective custody until you get treatment.”

“Treatment for what?”

“You see? She’s in complete denial,” Mandelbaum said disapprovingly.

Sophie clung to Jayla, but John Driscoll surprised her by grabbing her elbow, while the short woman snatched her little girl away and scooped her up in her arms.

“What’s happening?” Sophie screamed.

“Stay back. Don’t make this any worse for yourself.”

“We’re here to
help
,” the short woman scolded.

Sophie felt a cartoonish lightness as she spun around and stared at Mandelbaum, all the blood rushing out of her head. “You lied to me. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“Mommy?” Jayla cried.

The short woman carried her quickly down the drab hallway, opened the fire door, and the two of them disappeared into the stairwell.

“Wait!” Sophie bolted after them. She yanked open the heavy fire door and hurried down the stairs. The tall man and short woman were moving very fast. She turned to Mandelbaum in between floors and screamed, “You lied to me! You said you’d grant me one wish!”

“I did grant your wish,” he said, limping down the stairs behind her.

Sophie spiraled after them, down down down, her hand grasping the slick railing until she had reached the underground garage. She pushed through the heavy metal door, her shrill, frightened voice echoing back at her. “Mr. Driscoll! Come back!”

The short woman was waddling quickly across the parking garage past row after row of shiny cars. “Mommy!” Jayla cried. They disappeared behind a Dodge minivan, and Sophie froze at the sound of slamming doors.

She raced toward the minivan, then skidded to a stop as it pulled out of the parking space and veered away, almost running her over. She fumbled in the pockets of her robe, but her car keys were back upstairs. She headed for the fire door again, but Mandelbaum blocked her path with his cane.

“What’s done is done,” he said.

“You didn’t give me what I wanted! I asked for my daughter back!”

“Alive, you said. She is alive.”

“But I didn’t ask for this!”

“Be thankful.”

“I only got a few minutes with her before you took her away again!”

“You wanted everything to be the same, you said. I take people literally.”

“But that’s
obviously
not what I wanted,” she pleaded. “Where are they taking her?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“This isn’t what I asked for, you bastard!”

“Since when do we always get what we want in life?”

Her ribs heaved in and out as she sobbed. “One wish, you said!”

“One chance, I said.”

She stared at him with dawning dread. “Ryan’s right. You
are
the Devil.”

A sickening grin stretched across his slack, wrinkled face. “Have a nice day, Sophie,” he said, limping away.

*

Cassie and Billy got married in early November, and Sophie didn’t drink at the reception. She’d been sober for six months now. She had improved her life dramatically. She’d taken steps to provide her daughter with a better home—she did everything Child Protective Services had asked her to do, and more. She moved into a bigger apartment. She found a better job. She attended Al-Anon meetings and kept the place spotless. She even joined a church. Still, they refused to give Sophie her daughter back.

She tormented herself every night with
what-ifs
, wondering what she could have done differently to make things come out right. If only she’d worded her wish correctly. If only she’d taken more time to think about it. If only she’d cleaned up her apartment. For months, she’d pleaded with Mandelbaum to give her a second chance. When that didn’t work, she tried bribing and threatening him. Finally, she gave up and moved away and tried to pick up the pieces of her shattered life. She tried not to feel bitter about it. She tried to let go of the past and focus on the future—her future with Jayla. But it was hard to cling to hope when a government bureaucracy was holding your daughter hostage and the rules kept changing.

The wedding reception was held inside a historic mansion down by the lakefront, and the reception hall was full of hundreds of people. Billy’s wealthy parents had paid for everything. There was an open bar. Sophie was seated next to a friend of Billy’s named Shelby, a Yale Law School graduate with a fleshy face and large ears poking out behind carefully combed strands of hair. His manner was blandly persistent.

“So you don’t believe in pre-determination?”

“You mean fate?” she said.

“If you prefer to call it that, fine.”

“I believe the world turns,” she said. “I believe the sun shines.”

“And I believe cynicism’s overrated.”

“I’m not a cynic, I’m a realist.”

“You know,” he told her, “I abandoned a Nobel laureate in order to sit next to you.”

She rolled her eyes and looked around the reception hall. Cassie and Billy were dancing together. The wedding had fulfilled its quota of clichés: the bride was radiant; the young ring-bearer had burst into tears; a blushing cousin caught the bouquet.

Now Sophie spotted a hunched-over figure, a little old man leaning against a cane, and experienced a familiar hot electric feeling. She clasped her hands together in her lap to keep them from shaking. Cassie had invited Mandelbaum and Ryan to the reception—she’d invited everyone she knew. But Sophie didn’t mind. She was formulating a plan. A scheme. She was going to trick Mandelbaum into giving her what she wanted. After all, he had tricked her. Hadn’t he? The trap was set. Now all she had to do was to get Cassie to go along with the plan.

“I like this song.” Shelby tapped his fingers on the table. It was one of those harmless renditions of an old hard rock tune that used to mean something dangerous. “Don’t you think it’s rather warm in here?”

“Stuffy,” she agreed.

A waiter came over to fill their champagne glasses, but Sophie cupped her hand over hers. “None for me, thanks.” She was being very good. She had to be good. She could not fail. She looked across the reception hall again, but Ryan and Mandelbaum had disappeared into the crowd.

“Would you like to dance?” Shelby asked in his most casual voice.

“I’ll pass.”

“Party poop.”

“Oh, like that’s going to make me change my mind.”

“Why don’t you want to dance with me?”

“Let’s just say it’s not my pre-determination.”

Cassie and Billy floated over to their table. Cassie’s face was flushed, and she wore acres of white satin. She clutched Sophie’s hand and said, “Dance with Billy?”

Sophie wrapped her arms around Billy’s thick neck. He was a clumsy dancer. His clothes were warm and damp, and he kept sighing against her. “Are you okay?” she finally asked.

“I can’t wait until this whole thing’s over with.”

“Cassie looks happy.”

“Her feet are killing her.”

“You keep sighing, Billy. What’s wrong?”

“She invited that Ryan guy. It pisses me off.”

Sophie drew back. “You know about Ryan?”

“I know enough to be pissed off about it. Why? What else should I know?”

Just then, the bride came floating over and grabbed Sophie’s hand. “Come with me to the little girl’s room?”

The bathroom was overly bright. Cassie lit a cigarette and kicked off her heels. “Christ, my feet are killing me.”

“You look great.”

“You think?”

“Radiant.”

“Kiss my ass.” Cassie laughed. “So what do you think of Shelby?”

“You mean the snotty, metro-sexual, attention-seeking octopus?”

Cassie laughed. “God, Sophie, you’re way too picky. When are you going to start dating again? Billy’s got lots of friends, and they’re not all marine life.”

“I’m not ready yet.”

“Your vagina really is going to shrink if you’re not careful. I mean, God... when was the last time?”

“Who cares?”

“You need a life, Sophie. I’m sick of you moping around all the time.”

“I don’t mope. I have a life. I’m trying to get Jayla back.”

Cassie softened. “Of course, sweetie. I know that. But dating a guy like Shelby couldn’t hurt. As a matter of fact, it might help. I mean, he
is
Yale Law.”

Sophie sighed.

“What?”

She broke down and covered her face with her hands.

“Oh please don’t cry. You’ll only get me started.”

“I told you what happened.”

“I know.”

“I told you what happened with Ryan and Mandelbaum,” she wept.

“Do we have to go over that again? It was a very bad time in your life.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Look, I’m sorry I invited them to the reception. I just thought... I don’t know what I was thinking. Have you seen Ryan, by the way? Still stumbling over his own erection, I see.” She laughed.

Sorrow and fear surfaced. All the rottenness of the past came flying back at her. “I made a mistake and I got crucified for it,” she sobbed.

“Now Sophie. Look. I’m starting to cry.” Cassie wiped the tears away as they spilled down her cheeks. “My mascara’s running. No more should-haves or could-have-beens. Okay? Listen, honey. You’re not the only one who’s struggling and mucking around, you know. This is supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but I’m not sure I did the right thing.”