Baby Please Don't Go: A Novel (24 page)

35

The following day, Natalie arrived at the condo in the early evening. Lock was there with Edwina, Dahlia, and Augie. All four of them were on the carpet in the living room, batting balloons at each other. Lock had blown up a dozen for them to play with. Augie, on his back on a blanket but positioned so he could see the fun, grinned every time a balloon bounced near him. Edwina gently tapped a blue balloon against the baby’s forehead.

“Don’t frighten him, Eddie,” Lock said.

“I’m being very, very careful,” she said, frowning at Lock. “He likes it.”

The girls didn’t look up when Natalie entered the room, but Lock did. He stood and hugged her. She flashed a smile at him, then pushed him away and sat down on the sofa. She pulled her shoes off.

“Ah. That’s better,” she said, wriggling her toes.

Right away, Lock noticed Natalie carried no bag that might contain the surprise she had promised to bring him.

“Did you get it?” he said.

Augie started to cry. Natalie didn’t make a move to pick him up.

“Of course, honey.” She got up and walked past him, putting her hand on his back and squeezing his shoulder. “You’re like a child. You’ll get it after the kids go to bed. It’s worth the wait.”

Lock bent over to pick up Augie and jiggled the infant in his arms. Augie quieted down right away. Natalie walked out of the room like no one was there. Lock shook his head.
She’s just tired
, he told himself. Another part of himself said,
Tired, sure. It’s her nature.

An hour later, Lock had single-handedly completed all the chores associated with getting three children to bed. He read aloud—for the hundredth time—from
And to Think That I Saw It on Mulberry Street
as the girls clambered on his lap for the best position to hear the story and see the illustrations.

Then Lock changed Augie into a dry diaper, laid out the girls’ pajamas, and examined clothes from the floor to see which could be re-worn and which needed to be thrown into the hamper.

Next, he put Augie in his crib and the girls in their beds. After kissing each child goodnight, he turned down the lights and went to find Natalie.

While Lock had been taking care of the children, Natalie had been watching a yoga video, executing an array of flawless poses. He stood in the threshold of the living room and watched.

When she saw he was finished putting the kids to bed, she turned off the video, walked past him, and with a crooked finger, gestured for him to come to the bedroom.

“Time to see your surprise,” she said.

He followed her. She closed the door behind them and sat him down on the edge of the bed. She peeled off her black yoga pants and removed her top. She smoothed the clothes out on the bed, folded them, and placed them in the dresser. She opened a bottle of perfume and dabbed a few drops on her wrists and rubbed them onto her neck. She inhaled the scent and closed her eyes. Then she turned on the lamps and sat down on the comforter, naked and looking Lock right in the eye.

Lock looked back into her eyes.

“You won’t find what I want you to see in my eyes, Lock,” she said, her voice low.

At first, Lock didn’t get it. He kept looking at her. She waited for his eyes to rove over her body, but he held his gaze.

Natalie stood up and angled her body so that the lamp’s light shined on the front of her thighs.

Lock looked down, and there it was.

A stunning, glistening, multicolored coral snake writhing up Natalie’s thigh, its head disappearing between her legs. The red, orange, and yellow hues, separated by thick, black, scaly bands, were kaleidoscopic and dramatically more intense than the temporary brownish henna snake that time had washed away. Her skin under the snake’s body was hot and swollen from the thousands of pinholes made by the tattoo needle. Each scale on the snake’s back was visible, glistening with a vibrant, iridescent pattern.

Natalie, hands on her hips, watched Lock’s eyes explore the artwork.

“Well?” she asked.

“Outstanding. Just outstanding.”

“Stings like hell, but the swelling will go away in a few days. I have to keep icing it. But first,” she said, “I want you to take a better look. Check out his head.” Natalie stood in front of Lock and lifted one foot onto the bed. She moved closer to him.

“See where he’s going?” she asked, inching even closer. “Why don’t you join him?”

36

Right before noon, Lock lucked out.

He found a spot in the jammed parking lot about one hundred yards from the main entrance to the annual Summer Fiesta carnival, set up on the grounds of Brandywine Community Hospital—the hospital where all of Natalie’s children had been born. Over a month had passed since Abby had died, and Lock still missed him deeply. He had been looking forward to taking the kids to the carnival, but it made him sad, too. It was exactly the kind of thing Abby would have loved.

It had been a tough squeeze to get all three children into the car seats that were jammed together in the rear of Lock’s old Ford sedan, but he did it. On the twenty-minute drive to the carnival, Edwina, accompanied by Dahlia, clapped their hands to their sing-song chant of one word: “Car-ni-val! Car-ni-val!” They laughed uncontrollably.

Getting the kids out of the car—Dahlia and Edwina bounced excitedly in their seats, while Augie sat contentedly—was easier than getting them in. The girls clamored for Lock and their mother to release them. Instead of helping, Natalie sat in the passenger seat doing something on her phone, so the chore fell to Lock.

He unbuckled the seatbelts and detached them from the car seats. The girls scrambled out of the car. Lock stood at the trunk, removing two strollers. Earlier, Edwina had insisted that she was big enough to walk at the carnival and refused to let Lock pack her stroller. Strollers, she’d informed him, were for little kids, like Dahlia and Augie. He closed the trunk, smiling at the memory. Edwina was growing up, and she was more formidable every day.

Dahlia—just shy of three years now—climbed into the stroller on her own while Edwina held it still. Lock watched and, seeing her caring for her little sister, wondered if she had more natural maternal instinct than her mother.

He removed Augie from his car seat and put him in the baby carrier. He loved carting Augie around that way so he could see him and touch him and point out interesting things. In a minute, they were ready to enter the fairgrounds.

“Head on in,” Natalie said to Lock without looking up as she texted someone. “I’ll catch up in a sec.”

“I need to buy the tickets for all of us,” he said. “Come with us.”

Natalie snorted derisively, put her phone away, and got out.

Once inside the carnival, Lock handed Augie to Natalie and he and the girls went to the blue-and-white wooden booth and bought twenty dollars’ worth of tickets redeemable for rides, though not junk food from the concession stands. The refreshments would cost him even more.

Natalie watched. “Twenty bucks won’t get us far in here,” she said.

Edwina looked to Lock to see if their mother was right.

“We have enough tickets for all the rides you want to go on,” he said, bending down to speak to the two girls. “And if we need more tickets later, we’ll get them.”

Natalie shook her head and gazed up to the top of a small Ferris wheel.

“I can guarantee you I won’t be getting on that thing,” she said. “Go ahead if you want.”

Augie burped loudly and a broad smile appeared on his face. Natalie cringed in disgust.

“Okay”—Lock grinned at the girls—”more tickets for us.” Dahlia and Edwina hopped enthusiastically. “I think we can win two teddy bears at the squirt gun game,” Lock told them. “Who wants to try that?”

“We do! And after that,” Edwina said, “I want to ride the merry-go-round. I really want to.”

“Come on, Mommy,” Edwina said, walking back to where Natalie stood gazing off into space. “Lock said we’re going to win teddy bears. Come on.” Edwina tugged at Natalie’s fingers and tried to pull her along.

“I have to find the bathroom,” Natalie said. “I’ll catch up in a minute. Go win your dolls.” Without speaking, Natalie handed Augie to Lock, who now had to manage carrying his son while looking after two children. He didn’t want the girls to pick up on his disappointment at Natalie’s distant demeanor.

“Okay, Natalie,” he said. “The squirt gun game is on the midway, up there on the left past the cotton candy stand. Come back soon.”

Natalie didn’t say a word to Lock and the girls, but turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Lock helped the girls aim their squirt guns at the moving targets—rusty metal ducks and rabbits—and succeeded in helping them win two small teddy bears. Compared to the fluffy bears as big as Dahlia on the top display shelf, the two they won were paltry, and he could see the kids’ looks of dissatisfaction. Edwina pouted and Dahlia pointed to the bigger dolls.

“Anything we can do about this?” Lock softly asked the barker, who made a face. Lock slid a five-dollar bill across the counter in such a way that the girls couldn’t see it.

The barker took the bill and put it in his pocket, but didn’t change his sour expression.

“Buy another two games and we’ll see what they win,” he said.

Lock surrendered more tickets. The man flipped a switch under the counter and started the game. Both girls giggled while holding the guns and aiming at the targets. Dahlia’s aim was way off and splashed the back wall of the booth. After another minute, the water stopped and the girls looked at the barker expectantly.

“Look what you two have won,” he said without the slightest trace of interest. “Two bigger bears. But you have to give those two back first.” He pointed at the prizes he had given to the girls before. When they didn’t move, the man leaned over the counter and took the bears from them and sullenly handed the kids two more, only slightly larger than the first ones. He then glared at Lock. “That’s the best I’m going to do.” The girls didn’t look thrilled.

Lock’s phone rang. He saw it was Natalie’s number, or else he might not have answered.

“Hey, can’t find us?” he asked. Then he listened and his face fell. “At least come back and say goodbye to the girls,” he spoke in a whisper. “And you have to be back in two hours with the car. The kids might not even last that long, and then what am I going to do?”

A few minutes later, Natalie appeared as Lock was buying the girls two paper cones of frighteningly bright red cherry water ice. Lock didn’t want them to ingest the notorious red dye, but gave in at their insistence, telling himself that it would be impossible to protect them from all the world’s threats. He’d have to pick his battles—and dye-in-water-ice wasn’t one he chose to fight that day.

Natalie stooped down and gave each of the girls a token hug. “Mommy has to go,” she said, rising. “I’ll be back soon.”

Edwina grabbed her mother’s hand. “No, Mommy, we’re going on the merry-go-round. I’m riding the white one with the golden mane. Come with us. You can hold Dahlia on your lap, because she’s too little.”

“Lock will hold her, honey,” Natalie said.

“No!” Edwina stomped her flip-flop. “He has to hold Augie. You hold Dahlia, and I can ride the horse myself.”

Natalie shrugged and, without kissing Augie goodbye or making eye contact with Lock, walked off.

“Two hours, max,” Lock shouted after her. “Sooner, if you can.”

She kept walking but raised her hand and backward-waved at them. All three of them watched Natalie leave. Augie was asleep in the baby carrier, his head resting against Lock’s chest.

“Why is Mommy leaving?” Edwina asked, looking at Lock.

Lock felt bad but didn’t want to think about where Natalie might really be going—she had told him she needed to run to the diner to settle some dispute over a check she had supposedly added up incorrectly. He wanted to believe her, but he didn’t. It was apparent she didn’t care to put much effort into constructing a more credible lie. That made it worse for Lock. To distract himself, he reached into the baby carrier and gently tilted Augie toward him and admired the beauty in the sleeping child’s face.

“She has to go to the drug store for something, honey,” he said to Edwina, “but don’t worry. She’ll be back soon.” He realized he had just lied to her, something he had a strict policy against, but telling the child the probable truth, in this case, would have done more harm than good.

Lock turned toward the crowds of people and caught a glimpse of Natalie’s back as she made her way through the throng toward the parking lot.

As she pulled up, Natalie saw Jerome Freel standing in his driveway, attired in the golf clothes he had been wearing all day. She liked that he was waiting for her.

He moved in close, wanting a kiss, but Natalie put her hand on his chest and pushed hard.

“Not out here,” she said, and walked past him and into his foyer. He followed her in and closed the door behind him.

“How about now?” he asked. “It’s not a public display of affection if we’re alone in a house.”

Natalie offered her cheek but wouldn’t let him kiss her on the mouth.

“What’s bugging you?” asked Freel, who turned and adjusted the position of his golf bag, which was leaning against the wall and looked like it was getting ready to tip over.

“Nothing. Just Lock and the kids. They dragged me to some stupid carnival and I had to miss my yoga class. And I have plenty to look forward to tonight—the eight-to-two shift of high school boys and old couples who believe in two-dollar tips.”

“It won’t be much longer, Nat. You know that. I tell you that every day.”

Natalie sighed. “I guess you’re right. I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you.”

“That’s okay. I had a terrible day too. Shot a 107, if you can believe that.”

“Yes. That’s a rough thing to have to live through. But you’re strong, Jerome. You’ll survive.”

Natalie stared him in the eyes as she tore off her t-shirt and unzipped and stepped out of her shorts—rendering herself totally naked in one graceful motion.

“Oh my Lord,” he said, his eyes falling not on her body but on the tattoo of a snake slithering up her thigh. “Dazzling.”

“Me?” she asked.

“That snake. Fantastic, just fantastic.”

“Thanks, couldn’t have afforded it without you.”

Freel crouched down to see it better. “That guy knows his stuff. It almost looks like a photograph.”

“I thought you’d like it.”

“I do.”

“So does Lock. Loves it.”

Freel stood up. “Fuck you, Nat. Why’d you bring him into this?”

“Oh, calm down. What are you worried about? He’s the one getting screwed over. Relax.”

Freel stood there, fuming, and tried to hide it.

“Ah, poor baby,” she said. “Did I hurt your feelings?” She grabbed him by the throat, pulled him close, and kissed him hard. “That make you feel any better?”

“You’re getting warmer,” he said, taking her hand and leading her up the spiral staircase.

Natalie kicked the sheets off her while Freel laid on his side, working to catch his breath. She checked the clock by the bedside. “I have fifteen minutes before I have to leave to pick them up. I’m taking a quick shower.” She got out of bed and Freel watched.

She spoke to him from the bathroom. “You hear anything from Witt’s lawyer? Like, is anyone getting any closer to writing me a check?”

“Humphries. I spoke to him yesterday,” said Freel.

“I hope you have good news. I really can’t play this poverty game much longer. At the carnival, the most Lock could come up with for rides was twenty dollars. Twenty dollars!”

“Yeah, well. Back to Humphries. What a dick. Anyway, the forensic accountant we hired is almost finished with her analysis, and she told me it doesn’t look like Witt has concealed any assets. At least none that she could find. I was hoping he was hiding entire companies he owned. But that’s not the case, and that’s too bad for us. Humphries actually said, ‘I told you so’ to me. But the joke will be on him. And the good news is that Witt seems to be worth somewhat more than you think. Maybe three or four million more. That could be almost half yours someday in the very near future. We’ll know more about that mid-week.”

Natalie exited the bathroom and dried herself with a giant, dark-blue cotton towel. “I’m sorry I said that about Lock. I was teasing you, but now that I think about it, it was a dopey thing to do.” She knew she had to play nice from time to time, but just enough to keep him from getting sulky. Jerome would never admit it, but he liked that she made him jealous.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, opening the nightstand drawer and removing his black, leather toiletries kit. “You made it up to me.”