Beyond Midnight (28 page)

"
Lena
, dear, is Russell all right?
"

Helen looked up across the kidney-shaped bed at her aunt who knelt opposite her, on a pad set in a sturdy metal frame to help her get up and down.

Helen laid the six-pack of cosmos on the grass and leaned back on her haunches.
"
Why do you ask?
"

"
Well, yest
erday when I was in the back hal
l fiddling for my keys, I heard someone arguing with him. Very loud, he was.
"

"
Scotty? Was it Scott?
"
Only two or three others had permission to be there when she wasn
'
t home.

Her aunt brushed a gray-white strand of hair back over her forehead, leaving a streak of moist earth on her face, and shook her head.
"
No. I didn
'
t recognize this voice. Didn
'
t care for it, either. The boy
'
s language was terrible. I know they swear and such when they
'
re not around us, but—
"

"
Did you go in to see who it was?
"

"
I knocked. They clammed right up. I thought, they
'
re embarrassed to be heard. It seemed enough. I went on my way.
"

Disturbed by the news, Helen frowned and said,
"
I
'
ll ask him about it.
"

"
No, no, don
'
t,
"
her aunt said, scandalized.
"
He
'
ll think I told on him.
"

"
You did tell on him,
"
Helen said with a grim smile.
"
But that
'
s all right. He has to understand that if he
'
s broken the rules, he can expect—
"

"
Mom, Mom!
"
came Becky
'
s excited cry behind them.
"
Guess who I just saw!
"

She came running up to them, then dragged over a small metal bistro chair and sat down in it with an eager expression on her face. She leaned forward.
"
Guess!
"

The girl was dressed in her version of spring: crushed pale linen hat with the front brim pinned back; black sleeveless jumpsuit. She
'
d been too long in the sun without sunblock, Helen noted; her nose was burned, and the tops of her shoulders. She looked whimsical, charming, vibrant, and—like the annuals—ready to explode.

"
I haven
'
t got a clue,
"
Helen said, smiling, as she returned to her cosmos. Pink or white? There was no tag.

"
Nathaniel Byrne.
"

That got Helen
'
s attention. Down went the little six-pack again. Helen looked up with what she hoped was a
bland
expression.
"
Really? How did you manage that?
"

"
I was walking on the Common with Michael—he didn
'
t want to ask
Chelsea
to homecoming, by the way; she forced him to—and there he was: flying a kite. This big, huge, enormous kite with Snow White on it. And a tail that must have weighed twenty pounds. There wasn
'
t any wind; the kite just kind of sat there. Once in a while it went up a few feet, then dropped back to the ground. It was hysterical.
"

"
He saw you snickering at him?
"

"
No, he was too busy.
"

"
He was flying a Snow White kite on Salem Common by himself?
"

"
Of course not. He had an adorable little girl with him. I guess it was his daughter?
"

"
Brown curly hair? Fat bowed legs?
"
Becky nodded and Helen said,
"
That was Katie, without a doubt.
"
The image of them together with the kite tugged at Helen
'
s heart. She would have loved to have been there.

"
And someone else,
"
Becky added.

Something in her voice washed over Helen like an ocean wave in January.
"
Beautiful?
"
she asked quietly.
"
Great figure? Dressed for a fashion show?
"

"
Yeah,
"
said Becky, her face a mirror of her mother
'
s disappointment.
"
She sure wasn
'
t dressed for a day in the park.
"

"
That was the nanny,
"
Helen said dryly.

"
No way! She was giving him these adoring looks... no
way,
"
Becky repeated, unconvinced.
"
The woman I saw had a thing for him, Mom. Really.
"

"
Nannies can have things for their employers,
"
Helen said, remembering the way Peaches had looked once or twice at Nat when they were at The Open Door.
"
Haven
'
t you ever watched
Upstairs, Downstairs?
"

"
She didn
'
t look very downstairs to me. How can she dress like that on a nanny
'
s wages?
"

"
How do you manage on a baby-sitter
'
s wages?
"

"
That
'
s different. I shop for bargains. I guarantee she
'
s never been in an outlet store.
"

"
Obviously Peaches is good at what she does. She must get paid well,
"
Helen said, trying hard to be less catty.

"
She has a nice laugh,
"
Becky added glumly.
"
She laughs a lot. Then again, it was funny, the way he tried and tried.
"

"
I wonder if he got it up.
"

"
Mother!
"

"
The
kite.
"

"
Of course the kite,
"
said Becky, reddening under her sunburn.
"
Yeah, he did, eventually. Someone went over and told him to shorten the tail.
"

Helen could feel a fine flush of color in her own cheeks. In the meantime poor Aunt Mary was utterly lost amid the double-talk.

"
Who
'
re we talking about?
"
she asked over her spectacles. She leaned into the side handles of her kneeler and pulled herself up with an effort.
"
Whoever he is, you both seem fixated on him.
"

"
No, we
'
re not,
"
said Helen.

"
Yes, we are,
"
argued her daughter.
"
Except Mom won
'
t admit it. Well, I
'
ll admit it: I wouldn
'
t mind having him hang around here.
"

"
Don
'
t hold your breath.
"

Becky sighed and pulled off her hat.
"
Too bad about the nanny,
"
she said. With droopy shoulders, she hauled herself out of the bistro chair and went inside, forlornly smacking her hat on her thigh as she walked.

Whatever Becky had witnessed, it was enough to convince her that Nat and Peaches were either an item or on the way to becoming one. The thought wrapped itself around Helen
'
s heart like rusty chain.

What
'
s this?
she thought, amazed.
Jealousy?
If so, it was a brand-new emotion. She
'
d never been jealous in her life; with Hank there
'
d been no need. And yet the thought of Nat and Peaches laughing over how to fly a kite for Katie ripped at Helen
'
s soul. She felt her heart pound, her cheeks burn, her body flood with adrenaline.

I can
'
t believe this,
she thought.
This is really scary.

Aunt Mary had pulled off her gloves and, with a grimace, was arching her back.

Helen had to pull herself together.
"
It
'
s getting chilly out here,
"
she said to her aunt.
"
Why don
'
t you go in? I
'
ll finish up.
"

"
I think I will, dear. Thank you. What
'
s left? Only the one six-pack?
"

"
That
'
s it, and then we
'
re done.
"

"
Well, it was a good day
'
s work. In a month this will be a magical place.
"
Smiling, Aunt Mary took one last, lingering look around, and then she left.

Helen took her trowel and made six sloppy holes, then threw in the last of the cosmos. Pink, whi
te?

Suddenly she didn't care.

****

The heart-wrenching feeling that Helen called jealousy stayed with her throughout the week. She couldn
'
t shake it. It dogged her, just like the headache that had ruined her days and haunted her nights. She walked around in a tangle of anger and melancholy.

Russ was the first to feel the heat. She blistered him for having someone over without clearing it with her, and then abruptly changed course when she learned that the new friend
'
s name was Dale. A Dale couldn
'
t possibly own a weapon or smoke marijuana. As for Dale
'
s language, Aunt Mary had probably overreacted.

For now she was giving her son—and Dale—the benefit of the doubt. Her angry scolding ended up in a melancholy apology. Russ oblig
ed her with a half-angry, half-
melancholy apology of his own.

The jealousy continued. After a week of sleepless nights, Helen did what she never thought she
'
d have the nerve to do: picked up the phone and called Nathaniel Byrne herself.

She had an excuse, sort of. After an exchange of greetings—his warmer than hers—she said,
"
Orientation Day is next week, Nat, but we haven
'
t had a response from you.

Will you be able to come? I think you
'
d enjoy meeting the other parents. Look at it as
the first meeting of a twelve-
step program in parenting,
"
she added lightly.

It was said in the most professionally pleasant voice she could muster. She was determined not to sound clingy. And besides, what she said was true. He hadn
'
t RSVP
'
d to The Open Door invitation.

He had no idea what she was talking about.
"
It must
'
ve got lost in the mail,
"
he said.
"
Honest. I never saw it. Of course I
'
ll be there.
"

"
In that case,
"
she said, hard-pressed to keep the joy out of her voice,
"
I
'
m glad I called.
"
She gave him the day and the time and was about to ring off, reluctantly, when he said,
"
Helen—wait.
"