The After House (7 page)

“Tender loving care?” Judith asked.

“No, Mom, it was on TLC, the Learning Channel. I saw it too. One of the mediums is local.”

“I think you’re both loco,” Brian said.

“I said local. Shhhh.” Remy shushed her dad as she stood, her face alight as the door opened to admit a bundled-up customer.

“Hi!” she said to the full-sized woman with long, blond hair. She was bustling into the shop, pulling off colorful mittens to reveal long, cherry-red nails. “Molly!” She waved her over.

“Hi, Remy!” Molly rushed over, her eyes streaming, her nose as bright red as her polish. “Are you ready for me today?” she asked with excitement.

“Of course. Mom, Dad, this is Molly Caselle, my realtor.”

“Molly Valenti now.” Molly showed off a filigree wedding band.

“Congratulations. How long have you been married?” Judith asked.

“Six months. Oh, oh, Remy! We have to turn our session into a prenatal class.” Molly could barely contain herself. She and Sal were expecting.

“That’s wonderful, Molly.” Remy hugged her. “Sit down. Can we get you something?”

“I don’t have time. I have to bring back coffee for my associate.” The waitress brought over a bag, advising her to be careful with the drinks inside. “See you at four,” she trilled, heading out into the busy street.

“She’s a little old to be pregnant,” Brian said.

“Not much older than I was,” Judith said. “Are you sure you’ll be all right tonight?”

“Mom,” Remy said with exasperation. “I was fine last night. Besides, Livie comes home today, remember?”

Brian wanted to ask why she needed the scotch if she was all right, but he chose to keep his mouth shut. She had to figure it all out. After all, they weren’t going to be here forever.

livia skipped hand in hand with the new girl she’d met. She was on the way to Stella’s house to spend the afternoon. She had spent the weekend at her father’s, and he had dropped her off this morning at school. She really missed her mom, but Stella had invited her over, and she didn’t want to disappoint her new friend. Stella was the nicest girl she’d met so far in the new school. They nodded to each other when Mrs. Di Maggio had seated them side by side on her first day. Neither one would talk during class, so they really didn’t get to know each other until recess.

It was hard to start in a new school. The new term had already begun, and friendships were established. Many of the children had known one another from birth. Cliques were made, and Olivia was shy. She never knew how to start a conversation when she met people. She did much better playing with her toys—alone. Stella watched her, then walked over during recess in the school gym, easing into conversation as if they’d been friends for ages.

“Watch out for Jaden. He’s very rough, and he’ll try to take your schoolbag. My name’s Stella. My dad calls me Stella Luna, but you can just call me Stella. Or you could
call me Stella Luna. I know your name.” Stella said all this in a rush as she pulled Olivia out of the way, before Jaden could mow them down. His manic chuckles echoed in the room.

“Why?” Olivia watched him move on, then turned her large amber eyes on the girl. Her hair felt too tight on her head. Her father’s girlfriend braided the reddish-gold locks into braids that pulled at her tender scalp. She wanted to unplait them but didn’t know how. Maybe Mommy would tell her not to do that again. Maybe she could write a note or something.

Stella had dark hair and chocolate-brown eyes to match her olive complexion. “Boys?” She shrugged. “Who knows what they’re thinking.”

Olivia agreed with a sage nod, thinking of her father. He was once a boy, so maybe he wasn’t done being a boy yet. “How do you know that?”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of them in m’house.” She ticked them off with short, stubby fingers. “My father, my brother, a stepbrother, and now my new mother is having another baby. And guess what.” She widened her eyes in astonishment. “It’s another boy!”

“You’re going to be outnumbered.”

“No.” Stella shook her head. “There are four of us girls and now four of them. I have a real sister and a stepsister. If they can stop having babies, I think we’re safe. How many do you have?”

Olivia thought for a minute. Her father’s new life was a raw wound to her. Instinctively, at home she didn’t talk
about it, wanting to make it easier for her mom. If she let herself think about it too much, she got a real deep feeling of hurt in the middle of her chest.

She opened her mouth, considering what to say. “Nope, no boys. Except if you consider my poppi. He just visits with my grandma.”

“That doesn’t count. Grandfathers are great. Where’s your father? Is he dead? My real mommy died.”

Olivia looked at Jaden, who was cartwheeling in a large circle in the gym, banging into children. She sighed heavily.

Stella touched her arm. “You don’t have to tell me anything. In the end nothing matters.”

Olivia wanted to tell Stella she was wrong. It did matter. It mattered a lot. She wisely kept her mouth shut, deciding a new friend was better than being right.

The next week, she went home with Stella. Her new mom was pregnant and had a baby girl named Christina. Olivia loved the baby’s gummy smile. Mrs. Russo asked if they would watch her for an hour while she cooked dinner. Christina played on a crochet blanket in the den. They made a game of throwing large rubber ducks, then acted like dogs retrieving them for the hysterical infant. They laughed just as much when she puffed out her chipmunk cheeks and waved her dimpled hands. She gurgled happily at their antics until two older boys brought in the smell of apples and wind when they entered the room. Olivia heard Mrs. Russo giving directions to Stella’s teen-aged sister about cooking in the kitchen.

A tug of war over a TV remote ruined the peaceful playroom, sending the baby into great gulping sobs. Stella gave a knowing look at the boys, who were fighting now over the PlayStation. She gestured to them with her firm little chin, as if to say, “See what I mean?”

Mrs. Russo snatched up the baby, grabbed the remote, and angrily shooed the boys from the room. The baby rested her head on her mother’s strong shoulder, shuddering with relief.

“She’s very intuitive,” Stella assured Olivia, watching her mother place the baby in a walker.

“What, the baby?” Olivia said.

“Yeah, it means she can feel the change in the room when the
boys
come in. My father says I’m very intuitive.”

“You are?” Olivia asked in wonder.

“Yep,” Stella told her proudly, and then she lowered her voice. “I know when my mom is in the room.”

Olivia looked through the entrance at Mrs. Russo, who was working at the stove in the kitchen.

“Not that one, my real mommy.”

“The dead one?” Olivia whispered, her eyes wide.

“Yeah. Does your father come to visit you?” Stella was all business. Nothing rattled her.

Olivia thought for a minute, then answered, “Not enough.”

“I can help you.”

Olivia cast down her face sadly. “I don’t know if I want to see him.”

“Still mad?” Stella asked.

“Mad?”

“I was mad in the beginning.” Stella guided her to her bedroom, where they sprawled on the shaggy rug. She picked up several Barbie dolls, their blond hair matted from years of greasy hands. They lined them up. “I was really mad, but then I had to help my dad.”

“Why?”

“He was madder than me. We both couldn’t be mad.”

Olivia turned to look at her. “Why? Both my mommy and me are mad.”

“Two mads are chaos.”

“Kay-os. What’s that?” Olivia lay on her back, holding Barbie and Ken above her, considering their frozen faces. She placed Ken facedown on the rug and played just with Barbie, whose blond hair swung in a tight ponytail.

“It’s everything all messed up.” Stella lay on her back, holding her hands in the air, making swirling motions. “Nothing gets done.” Her voice was low. “Everybody fights; everybody’s sad. I started wishing for my mommy to come and make it like it was.”

“Did she?” Olivia stopped playing, turning on her side to face Stella. She rolled on top of Ken, fished him out, and tossed him into the toy box. She wasn’t sure she wanted it back to the way it was.

“O’course. But she told me it can’t go back to the old way. I had to learn to be happy with what I get.”

“My daddy isn’t dead.”

“That’s great!” Stella clapped her hands.

“He’s just gone. He went with another lady and has a new baby.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Stella told her grimly. “We all do.”

“Do you like your new mommy?” Olivia asked. She wasn’t crazy about her father’s girlfriend, but the baby was fun.

“Uh-huh. She’s great. I miss my mom, but now it’s like I got two.”

“I don’t like Priscilla.”

“That’s a bad name.”

“I know,” Olivia agreed. “She’s so mean.”

Stella grew quiet, her eyes distant. She rose and walked over to an empty corner of the room. Weak light from the blinds striped her face in gold. She stared at the wall, as if listening intently. Olivia sat up, watchful, but could see nothing except the dust motes drifting on an invisible breeze. Nodding, she turned to Olivia.

“Don’t worry about it. My mommy says the fun is just starting.”

“Are you afraid?” Olivia asked, staring at the empty space.

“What? Of my mommy? Don’t be silly.”

“What if it’s not your mommy?” Olivia whispered.

Stella considered her friend. She looked at the spot in the corner of the room. Turning to Olivia, she sighed. “Nope. Still not afraid.”

Olivia stared at the wall, then back at Stella’s face. Her friend looked fine. “Maybe everybody has one,” she thought about the man she’d seen floating around her new house.

Olivia looked around the room again, searching for changing shadows. Then she shrugged and said, “Let’s color.”

Remy picked Olivia up before five thirty. She introduced herself to Ellie Russo. She liked her immediately. Ellie owned a small dance studio in town and warmly invited Remy to bring Olivia in for a class. Compact, with a nice-sized pregnancy going, she insisted Remy sit down for a cup of coffee. Ellie had short dark hair cut in a cap around her winsome face. Remy tried to guess her age but gave up. Her skin was rosy, her smile wide and inviting. It looked like she had a lot of kids running around the house.

“I didn’t mind if she stayed for dinner,” Ellie said as she set a huge table for seven people.

“How many kids do these people have?” Remy wondered, taking in the multiple places at the table and the scattered array of sneakers by the back door.

“We always have room for more. You could stay if you like.” A teenaged girl was draining pasta. “Be careful, Veronica. Don’t burn yourself.” Remy looked at the girl, then at Ellie. Ellie smiled broadly, “Roni’s my step daughter.” She placed her arm around the younger girl’s shoulders. “I adore her.” She kissed the girl’s blushing cheek. She gave her a squeeze and left her to finish the food.

Veronica smiled as she held the pot over a colander, expertly preparing the pasta for sauce.

“Thanks, but I have soup on the stove,” Remy said. “It was so great meeting you. I’m planning a prenatal class, if you’re interested.”