For several weeks, Kevin did wait in the shadows, as promised. Because there was no other way.
[Click here to read the first episode, or here to read the previous one.]
Jeanne adjusted to her new life, working nights at the 911 facility so immediately and thoroughly that after a week the routine felt permanent. She might have always read to Colette after dinner and waited for Giselle the babysitter who arrived at eight p.m. And soon after that, always, she drove past the O’Meara’s house to the secured building. She answered emergency phone calls and studied for her certification, while a supervisor slept in a leather lounge chair.
Between six-thirty and seven a.m., Jeanne returned home. The babysitter was usually awake but Giselle didn’t mind if Jeanne had to wake her before sending her away—daytime now. After cleaning the house a bit, she woke Colette. They ate breakfast together and prepared Colette for nursery school. At eight-thirty, Jeanne took her little girl with bows in her wispy blonde hair to The Petite Academy. She said hello to Patrice, who was busy welcoming everyone, and drove home to sleep.
She was supposed to collect her daughter at noon. But Patrice often and then almost always and soon routinely invited Colette to lunch at their house, where she played with Annabelle until one-thirty or two.
Patrice and Jeanne were such good friends by now that Jeanne never questioned the arrangement. Dark brown Patrice was her true sister—opposed to unpleasant and long gone Patti. So naturally, Patrice helped out, giving Jeanne an extra hour to sleep.
It was Kevin who asked, “What is this, Patrice? Every day?”
Kevin always knew when Jeanne had visited. He opened the front door after work and the air fluctuated. He caught a suggestion of chimes, bells that faded away the instant he stepped inside—an outlandish notion. “What happened today?” he asked. And Patrice or Annabelle would recite their activities, which either involved Jeanne moving and laughing through these very rooms—or not.
At first, learning that Jeanne had been in his home—when he was not—disturbed him. But after Kevin identified the disquieting sensation, he anticipated it. When it became routine, he took secret pleasure in it. And if the women and children had met somewhere else that day, gone shopping perhaps, a kind of gloom settled inside him.
All this in a matter of weeks. Jeanne and Patrice shared such a fast fondness that Patrice arranged get-togethers during the weekends too. Kevin couldn’t be bothered joining them. He played more tennis than usual (more than he wanted.)
And after a while Patrice felt apologetic. There was no good reason why Kevin should disapprove of her new friend. He had met Jeanne first and rented the bungalow to her. He had arranged for the overnight job, which whether he knew it or not, met her primary requirement—allowing her to be with Colette during the day. But he grimaced whenever Patrice mentioned Jeanne’s name. It annoyed him—the every-day playdates for the girls and the mothers’ constant updates and outings.
One solution, Patrice thought, might be if Jeanne started dating someone. Then the four of them could go out. Driving home from a Sunday visit to Kevin’s mother, Patrice wondered out loud if Jeanne and Kevin’s friend Hal might like each other.
“We could introduce them, and if they seemed up for it, try a double date thing.”
Kevin didn’t respond at first. Without glancing at his wife, he exited the turnpike and pulled to the side of Country Club Road. “Absolutely not, Patrice. You don’t know Hal. It’s not a matter of him being socially awkward. Mentally, he’s ill equipped.”
Annabelle whined, saying, “Why are we stopped?”
“Your daddy and I are talking.”
“You can talk and keep driving.” Annabelle kicked the car seat.
“I guess, honey,” Patrice turned around and smiled. “But I guess…this is serious.”
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