Paris Rose (4 page)

“Goodnight.”

He stood still, swallowing hard. Wishing she’d leave him alone forever. Wishing things could be the way they’d once been, before she’d ruined everything. Her head popped up over the fence again, and Lucy looked at him nervously, as if she’d arrived at some sort of decision. “I want to wish you the best of luck, Nick,” she said. “I mean that. I really hope you have a happy, fulfilling life. You deserve it.”

“Thanks,” he said, knowing he sounded abrupt and ungracious.

“You’re welcome.”

“So what will you do?’ he asked. “After you sell this place, I mean?”

She gazed past him for a moment, blinking hard. “I don’t know.”

He wanted to go to her. He wanted to lean over the fence and kiss away the misery in her eyes and reassure her he’d never love anyone the way he loved her, it just wasn’t possible. Nick stayed where he was. This woman had betrayed him, he reminded himself. She’d destroyed their marriage and nearly destroyed him in the process. There was no going back. It was much too late for that.

“Goodbye, Nick,” she said.

His heart and lungs seemed transformed to stone as he stood there, numb with a cold, hard pain. There was such finality in her voice. “Bye, Lucy,” he managed.

She disappeared back to her side of the fence, and he listened to the sound of her rounding up Dexter, the door closing behind them both as they went inside. He couldn’t seem to move. For several moments he stood staring at the space where she’d been, smiling the saddest smile he’d ever seen in his life as she wished him luck with his life and said goodbye. Not “goodnight,” not “see you tomorrow.”

Goodbye.

****

Lucy loved the way the kitchen turned out. The lightly distressed creamy-colored cabinets gave the space a vintage feel, and the granite countertops and new stainless steel appliances were gorgeous. She planned to paint the walls a neutral shade, but was busy today baking Kieran’s birthday cake, throwing herself into the task body and soul in order to avoid thinking about Nick and the fact that he was dating. Hearing that piece of news had been a stab through the heart.

“Enough,” she whispered.

It was time to admit defeat, muster what dignity she had left, and disappear once and for all from Nick’s life. She’d lost him. It was as simple as that. Moving in next door to her ex, hanging around, just made her look like a pathetic loser. No wonder Nick viewed her with such utter contempt.

She’d been floundering since the divorce, putting off making any decision about her future. When she reached that moment, Lucy knew she’d be acknowledging that Nick was really and truly out of her life forever. She’d never accepted that. But now it was time.

Swallowing the lump of grief in her throat, she added one final flourish to the birthday cake and stood back to survey her handiwork, nodding with satisfaction. Kieran was all fired up about starting kindergarten in the fall, when the school bus would be picking him up each morning. Lucy had created a school bus cake, bright yellow and emblazoned with the name of the local school district. Students peeked happily from the windows and near the front sat Kieran with his distinctive black curly hair, merrily waving a hand.

A frantic email had arrived from Angie that morning telling her there’d been a change of venue for the party. The downstairs toilet in Angie and Mark’s house was backed up, and Nick had kindly agreed to let them have the party at his house. Lucy decided she’d simply ring the doorbell, hand over the cake with a big smile, and make her excuses.

Thirty minutes later she was putting her plan into action. She heard the sounds of children playing in the back yard as she jabbed at the doorbell with her elbow, praying Nick wouldn’t answer the door as she readied a smile on her face. Her prayer was answered when Angie opened up.

“Lucy! Oh, my God—it’s incredible! Quick, let’s sneak it into the kitchen while Kieran’s busy with his friends in the back yard.”

She started to hand the cake over, but Angie had already turned away, so there was no choice but to follow her. It felt strange to be back in the house she’d once called home and where she’d spent so many happy times. From the first moment she’d seen it, this house had somehow called out to her. Lucy had fallen in love with the fireplace and the curving doorways, the big kitchen with the window seat, the three bedrooms upstairs with charmingly sloping ceilings. The house seemed to promise her the things she’d longed for all her life—a family, love, a place to call home. Yet all the dreams and hopes she nurtured under this roof had fallen flat, leaving her colder and emptier than ever before.

“Oh, my—that is some cake!” Angie’s husband Mark said, as she carefully set the cake down.

“Hi, Mark.” She smiled at the large, balding man she’d always liked.

“It’s good to see you,” he said. “How are the renovations coming along?”

“Great.” She smiled shyly around at everyone.

Sylvia and Tom carefully stowed the cake behind a stack of plastic containers, where it could remain unseen until the crucial moment. Nick sat on the kitchen window seat, expressionless.

“Wine, Lucy?” Sylvia inquired, opening the fridge.

“No, thanks, I really have to get going.”

Her ex-mother-in-law looked dismayed. “But you can’t just come here, give us a beautiful cake, and then leave!”

“I’m sorry, I—”

Ignoring her protests, Sylvia poured a glass of wine. Lucy accepted it awkwardly and then the patio doors opened and six small boys burst into the kitchen, hungry, noisy, excited. Somehow she was swept up in the chaos of helping to organize the party, and there was so much going on it was easy to avoid Nick. While the men barbecued hot dogs and hamburgers, Sylvia, Angie, and Lucy kept paper cups filled with juice and soda and made sure things didn’t get out of hand on the trampoline Mark had rigged up at the bottom of the back yard.

Kieran looked astonished by his birthday cake. “There I am!” he squealed, pointing to the window near the front where he waved from. “I’m going to school!”

It was a hot day, the sun high in the sky, and Lucy was relieved to be kept busy. She supposed that would be key in her life from now on—she’d stay busy in order to avoid thinking about what a spectacular mess she’d made of everything and how she’d humiliated herself attempting to win back her ex. She stuffed several sticky paper plates into the trashcan at the end of the yard, took a swig of red wine from the glass Sylvia had just refilled for her, and excused herself to go use the restroom.

The house felt blessedly cool after the heat of the summer afternoon. She made her way to the powder room located off the front hall, only to find that it was locked.

“Sorry!” a little boy called out from behind the door.

Lucy hesitated. This was no longer her home, and she really didn’t have the right to go upstairs without permission. On the other hand, she really needed to go.

The wooden staircase had been another thing about the house she’d fallen in love with, and her hand caressed the carved wooden rail as she went up to the first floor bathroom. When she emerged, she knew she needed to immediately return downstairs, but temptation proved too strong.

The three bedroom doors stood ajar, and Lucy peeked inside the room she’d shared with Nick when they were a couple. Relief filled her when she saw it hadn’t changed—still the same soothing, pale green walls and flowered rug at the foot of the bed. Of course, the dresser was no longer cluttered with her makeup and perfume bottles, and she noticed sadly how much larger the whole room appeared now. The next room hadn’t changed either—it was still the spare bedroom, kept for overnight guests, with just a single bed covered in a cheerful patchwork quilt and striped curtains.

Biting her lip in trepidation, she glanced down the hallway.
Don’t
, a voice whispered.
Don’t go there.

It was the bedroom they’d selected to be the baby’s nursery, and Lucy had spent three solid days painting the walls to resemble an enchanted forest. Foxes peeped from behind the gnarled trunks of leafy trees whose branches spread across the ceiling, dormice scampered across the forest floor watched by a hungry owl, and a raccoon busily foraged for nuts and berries. She’d added cuddly soft animals to the oak crib and found curtains patterned with green leaves for the window. Lucy closed her eyes, remembering the love she’d poured into fixing up the nursery, the way the dull little room had sprung to life and how Nick had looked around, amazed, and told her how talented she was and what a fantastic mother she was going to be. He’d loved her then, loved her so much.

She had to see it just one more time. Holding her breath, she made her way down the hallway. Disappointment crushed her.

It was an office. The walls were now a bland beige, the curtains a nubby oatmeal. There was no trace of the enchanted forest she’d created for their baby, as if Nick was determined to eradicate every trace of the past, any scrap of evidence that once they’d almost been parents together. The baby only existed in her head now.

An ugly metal desk stood where the crib had once been, and a calendar was tacked to the wall, scrawled with notes. Lucy’s fists clenched, and suddenly she hated Nick with all the passion she’d once loved their unborn child. She imagined him roller painting the ugly beige over all the little animals and plants on the wall as if he couldn’t wait to forget. She strode across to the closet where she’d hung tiny garments and piled carefully folded sheets and blankets and pulled the door open. Everything was gone, replaced by stacks of paperwork and boxes. Lucy had to restrain herself from dragging them out and hurling them furiously across the room. Then she spotted something. A little brown paw protruded from behind a pile of papers on the uppermost shelf and she reached up and pulled out an expensive toy squirrel, made of the softest fur.

Memories washed over her. Nick never liked squirrels, insisting they were destructive vermin, while Lucy found them irresistibly cute and appealing. When she’d found she was pregnant, she couldn’t resist teasing Nick that she was going to decorate the nursery in a squirrel theme, and the little bushy-tailed soft toy, nibbling on an acorn, had been the first thing she’d bought for their baby. Why had he kept it, when he’d so brutally got rid of everything else? She just didn’t get it.

There was a sudden noise behind her, and Lucy whirled around. Nick stood in the doorway, gazing at her, and her anger resurfaced.

“I like what you’ve done in here,” she said. “It’s a huge improvement.”

“Lucy—”

“No, I mean it.” She looked around at the blank walls with mock admiration. “I mean, why be bothered by old memories? That would be such a drag, wouldn’t it?”

“I couldn’t let it stay the way it was.”

“Of course not, I understand completely.” Her voice was loud and brittle. “But when you were stuffing all our baby’s clothes and toys and blankets into trash bags, you forgot this—” and she threw the squirrel hard across the room at him, wishing it was a paper weight. It bounced off his chest and rolled on the carpet a few times before coming to rest near the desk. Nick didn’t move.

Downstairs the front doorbell rang.

“Maybe we can discuss this later,” he said.

“I have nothing to discuss with you,” Lucy snapped. Waves of pain seemed to cloud her vision. He’d always remained so calm. Their baby had died, and Nick hadn’t shed a single tear. Rather than waste a minute on grief, her ex had thrown himself into launching a new coffee shop, immersing himself in business.

“I hate you,” she said.

The doorbell rang again.

“Lucy, please—”

She brushed past him, scooped up the fallen squirrel, and clattered down the stairs, swiping furiously at her tears as she wrenched open the front door. A gorgeous brunette blinked at her in surprise. “Oh! Is this where the party is?”

“Olivia!” Nick said.

For a moment, Lucy stood rooted to the spot. So this was Nick’s new love interest. They’d be perfect for one another, she thought dully. Nick could make a brand new start and put the past behind him once and for all. He and this Olivia would probably produce a brood of gorgeous, dark-haired babies.

Somebody was saying something to her, but she hurtled down the path. A headache pounded at her brain. Too much wine, sunshine, and stress, she thought blindly. Too much obsessing about the past and trying to rewind time. She realized she probably looked demented, her cheeks flushed and her lips tight with anger. Nick was probably gently explaining to Olivia right now that the woman half-running from the house clutching a squirrel was his disturbed ex-wife, while the lovely brunette shook her head in pity. Groaning, Lucy bolted into her house, just making it to the bathroom before she threw up.

****

Nick looked around in disbelief. The party had broken up an hour ago, and his house and yard were strewn with dirty napkins, crumpled paper plates, and leftovers. Half his family was in all probability not speaking to him, and just before the party broke up, the atmosphere had been simmering with animosity so badly he’d insisted he could clear up by himself. His relationship with Olivia was over.

He grabbed a large garbage sack and began to pick up the yard, scenes of the recent turmoil he’d just suffered through running through his brain.

“Who was that?” Olivia asked, after Lucy went brushing rudely past her.

He’d opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, Angie had appeared, looking accusingly at him. “Where’s Lucy? What did you say to her?”