Mark had scheduled Olivia to arrive half an hour earlier than she needed to be here. It was her husband’s way of checking up on her. Then again, scheduling the babysitter for extra hours wasn’t Mark’s only way of checking up on his wife. In fact, he orchestrated unexpected checks so frequently they were anything but subtle by this point.
There were Mark’s famous “surprise” lunches where he’d pop home unannounced for a bite to eat. Mothers from Gretchen’s school had taken to showing up with trays of lasagna for no obvious reason. Playdates with Samuel’s friends appeared on the calendar on days Mark worked extra shifts.
He still didn’t trust her, and that was beginning to drive Anne batty. She was fine, fine, fine. She’d been fine for almost three years now. Mostly fine, she amended, but only to herself. She still had her days.
With a sigh, Anne glanced at the clock again. She had time to speed-rock the twins back to sleep, change into a somewhat sexy outfit, and apply some concealer to the bags under her eyes that felt permanent. Maybe her mother had a point. If she didn’t shape up soon, she’d be a single mom of four. As much as Mark drove her nuts some days, she was married to him, and she wanted to keep it that way.
Anne cursed as she made her way into the living room and tripped over a stuffed elephant. As she hopped over to the stairway, her anger found a target in Gretchen, who still hadn’t moved from the couch.
“Turn the TV off,” Anne barked. “Olivia will be here soon, and I want you ready for bed.”
“I want Olivia to put me to bed,” she moaned. “She reads me extra books.”
“You’re not getting any books if you don’t get ready for bed. You know the rules.”
Babying her stubbed toe, Anne made her way upstairs and found Samuel in his room, staring at a tablet. She made a note to discuss the overuse of screens in this house with her husband later tonight at dinner.
“Put it away,” she snapped at Samuel. “Get your pajamas on. Now.”
Samuel didn’t appear to hear her. The twins’ shrieks reached new levels of earsplitting. Anne’s blood boiled in her veins. Mark should have been home twenty minutes ago. He’d promised to help get the kids ready for bed so Anne could bake the boatload of cupcakes that Gretchen needed for some fundraiser tomorrow.
If Anne didn’t get them baked, they would have to pay for the volunteer hours Anne hadn’t completed. Unfortunately for the Wilkeses, they couldn’t afford to pay for the hours, so a shitload of cupcakes was the answer.
Easing into the twins’ bedroom, she saw the source of their discontent. Her cell phone chirped with a missed call on the rocking chair tucked into the corner. She must have forgotten it in the room after tucking Harry and Heather in. If she was a betting woman, she’d guess there was also a message from Mark that he was running late.
The twins quieted, watching her as she grabbed the phone. It felt like they were mocking her, teasing her, playing a game that Anne would forever lose. At once, Anne felt guilty as she looked at her babies. Her eyes welled with tears.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, then grabbed her phone and disappeared from the room.
Once safe in the hallway, Anne expelled a breath. Her fingers worked the screen, unlocking it to find a missed call from her husband along with a text message to match. Perfect, she thought. Not only was he not home, but he was also the very reason the twins had woken up from their miracle early bedtime.
Anne opened the message from her husband, confirming what she’d already expected. He wasn’t on his way at all. As she read the text a second time, her scalp prickled with dismay. Her very core trembled.
Mark: Sorry, hon. Really behind at work. Tried to swing it but can’t. Do you mind canceling with Olivia? We’ll reschedule for next week. You feeling okay?
Anne briefly wondered what she would say if she told her husband the truth. Was she feeling okay? Ha, ha, ha. Poor Mark couldn’t handle the truth. If only men knew what it was like—motherhood, the insane wave of chaos and hormones and sleep deprivation, along with new baby mouths to feed and hearts to love. She struggled while Mark floated through it all, oblivious, content to contribute happy little paychecks and consider his duties fulfilled.
Anne began to type a response then deleted it. She typed another one, deleted that. What could she say? Mark had sent the babysitter home twice in one month, and Anne would be an idiot not to be suspicious at this point. Especially when she’d called his partner last time at the office to see what the holdup was, and his partner had said that Mark had gone home early due to a stomach bug.
The doorbell rang downstairs. The twins screamed. Anne looked down at the blank message on her phone. She couldn’t bring herself to respond, so she tucked her cell into a pocket and returned to the twins’ room. She performed a Cirque du Soleil–type maneuver to get both babies secured in her arms before hustling downstairs to open the front door as the bell dinged a second time.
Those Vegas acrobats had nothing on her. After nursing two babies at the same time and singlehandedly maneuvering a stroller with several small children in tow through a grocery store, she deserved some sort of accolade. A trophy. At the very minimum, a big, fat gold star.
Harry spit up all over Anne’s neck. She closed her eyes. That was the sort of accolade she was used to getting.
“Olivia,” Anne gasped, unlocking the screen door so the young woman could let herself in. “Actually, I’m so sorry. Mark is not able to—”
Olivia’s face began to fall. “You don’t need me…er…again?”
Without waiting for a response, Olivia reached for one of the twins. Anne handed Harry over and sighed with relief. The silence, the simple pleasure of having to hold only one child at a time swept over her as she studied the young college student.
“Actually…” Anne spun around and saw Gretchen on the couch. She could hear Samuel on his tablet upstairs. Suddenly, she didn’t want to deal with any of it. She wanted to tuck her children (safely) into someone else’s arms and disappear. For a long, long time. But that would be impossible. She couldn’t run away and not come back. He’d find her.
Anne cleared her throat. “I was just going to say that Mark’s running late, so I’m meeting him at the restaurant.”
“Hooray!” Olivia’s face brightened. “I was looking forward to babysitting. Plus, I imagine you could really use a night out.”
“I suppose I could,” Anne said.
But the truth weighed heavier on her. A night out was too small. Anne dreamed bigger.
“Let me just get the kids—”
“Stop!” Olivia raised her free hand, waved Anne away. “Go get ready. You’ve got spit-up on your shirt, and we can’t have that for your romantic dinner.”
Anne snorted with the irony of it all. Olivia merely smiled, missing the funniest part of the joke.
When Anne had married a cop, she’d known the drill. The long hours, the weekend shifts, the lifestyle that came with it. But after twenty years on the force, Mark had finally gotten enough seniority at the LAPD to move to day shifts. That meant he was supposed to be home at night.
Olivia set Harry down, took Heather from Anne’s arms. Olivia was an olive-skinned beauty with long, dark hair and gorgeous almond-shaped eyes. Better yet, she was a magician with the children.