Oh shit.Well, there was nothing to be done about it right now. She’d wait until she was alone with Christian to sort everything out. Perhaps he’d been receiving his own batch of love notes. It would explain why he kept checking his phone like a teen waiting to hear from their current crush.
Julia put her phone away just as Taylor pulled into the driveway. She didn’t know where her daughter had gone, only that she’d wanted to take Izzy for a ride. She was happy Taylor was making a friend and hoped it might help her get out of her recent funk.
The girls approached, but Taylor still looked solemn after the road trip. Izzy wasn’t faring much better. She had distance in her eyes, rounded shoulders, and no pep in her step. If ever there was a case of the Summertime Blues, these two had apparently caught it.
Nutmeg approached, sniffing the girls intently. Clearly, the dog thought they had gone somewhere interesting.
“What’s up?” Christian asked, putting down his phone to acknowledge the rest of the world. “How was the car? She drives like a dream, right?”
Julia resisted a groan.She. Here he goes again, like the car has boobs instead of wheels.
“It was fine. And don’t worry, there are no scratches, promise,” Taylor assured him. “Thanks for letting us borrow it.”
“Where’d you go?” asked Julia.
“I took Izzy to see where they found the bones.”
That one word,bones,charged the air. All heads turned in Taylor’s direction.
“That’s a pretty gruesome field trip,” said David. “Why go there?”
“Izzy’s into true crime, so I thought she’d think it was cool.”
Considering Izzy’s sober expression,coolmight not be the operative word.
“What’s happening up there, anyway?” Rick asked. “Is the new construction finished?”
Before Taylor could answer, Lucas erupted into a powerhouse solo that drew Julia’s attention, as well as her daughter’s. Julia saw something on Taylor’s face that hadn’t been there moments ago. It wasn’t the same shock and hurt she had observed that morning. No, this was something else. A whiff of vulnerability? Perhaps. Longing? Maybe that. It was something significant, that much she knew, but Taylor was guarding her emotions like precious gems.
“Whatever construction there was, I think it’s stopped,” Izzy said. “There’s some dug-up earth, but it’s becoming overgrown.”
David poured another G&T from the pitcher into his cup. “Yeah, I heard the new owner put a halt to the whole project until the police finished excavating the area,” he said. “And he wasn’t interested when he got the green light to continue. I guess he’s superstitious. Weird.”
Julia knew the look on Christian’s face. He smelled an opportunity.
“Hey, that’s a prime piece of real estate,” he said.
Christian dove back to his phone and, a moment later, rocketed out of his chair with childlike exuberance. “Holy shit. That land is back on the market, and the price is asteal.He must really want out.Dave, Rick, we should pitch in and buy it. I bet you anything it’s the perfect spot for growing cannabis.”
Cannabis?Julia scratched her head at that one.Since when is Christian into growing weed? Didn’t that go against his sobriety?
Rick rose from his seat, but not the way a young man would. Julia swore she could hear his knees screaming. “Christian, get a damn grip, will you? Growing cannabis in Vermont is a bureaucratic nightmare. And besides, I think you have enough problems with the one business you’re running into the ground. Don’t try to latch us to your sinking ship, buddy.”
Ouch.
With that, Rick headed toward his house, where Lucas continued to play a mournful tune on his guitar, echoing the sadness in Taylor’s eyes.
Chapter 18
Izzy
I think I finally have the nighttime routine down. Brody and Becca brush their teeth without complaint, and I ensure they get their back molars (very important). Then we wash our hands, put on jammies, and read stories—no fussing at all.
Something has shifted since Fiona vanished. The kids are clinging to me for comfort, and I’m supporting them as best I can, though I wish I had someone to lean on as well. Fiona might not have been the kindest, but we slept in the same house last night, so she certainly isn’t a stranger. And I know things about her that wouldn’t appear in any news reports—like how she likes Greek yogurt, leaves her hair scrunchies around, and prefers all-natural soap. I refuse to use her soap, or move any of her belongings. It feels sacrilegious to disturb the items she left behind—not to mention they could be evidence.
I keep my focus on my job. There are kisses good night, and after all that sweetness, I spend the next hour or so trying to get them to stay in their beds, stop giggling, and finally sleep. While they can be maddening, they’re both alive and well. Really, what more can anyone ask for? I set the same goals for tomorrow—living children, relatively unscathed by the end of the day—and that’s that. Still, if this is parenthood, count me out— or at least give me a super helpful partner.
David certainly wouldn’t fit that bill. He came back from thecommand center looking defeated and has been checked out ever since.
