Page 38 of Unforgivable
“Thanks,” he says.
I walk out the back to give him a spare set of keys. “Oh, and I asked Bruno to borrow two trestle tables for Charlie’s birthday party tomorrow. I was going to pick them up in the morning with the van, but if you can deliver them to my house instead, I’ll pay you.”
“Sure, thanks.”
I give Gavin my address and he leaves with Bruno, and Summer and I pick up all the last of the dirty glasses and bring them to the kitchen, stick them into the dishwasher, put away the linen tablecloths and fold up the trestle tables. When we’re done, Summer opens another bottle of champagne and pours us both a glass.
“You did good,” she says, and I laugh.
It’s only when we’re outside, about to walk into the icy night that I remember Dexter.
“Your boyfriend,” I say. “I didn’t meet him, was he there?”
“No,” she says breezily. “I told him not to come.”
“Why not?”
She shrugs. “It’s not his thing. He’d just be in the way.”
EIGHTEEN
It’s half past nine when I get home. The light is on inside, and I stand at the door for a moment to collect myself. I assume that means they’re all home, the whole happy family unit, and I am fervently praying Bronwyn is in bed already, but she is not. She and Jack are standing in the living room, in front of the fireplace, a glass of wine in hand. They’re laughing at something, stop abruptly when I walk in.
“How was the movie?”
He shakes his head. “We didn’t go to the movies.”
“Oh?”
“She was upset,” Bronwyn says. “Thanks to you. She was crying. Bawling her eyes out, really. We were not going to go to the movie with her in that state.”
“Bawling? Why? Is she okay?”
“No, Laura, she’s not! So thanks for ruining our night.” She takes a slug of wine.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize she was so upset. But I did, I do, think that particular movie is a little too much for her. Don’t you think, Jack?”
Jack pokes at something on the carpet with his toe.
“Jack?”
“Maybe, a little. Also, it’s late.”
Bronwyn glares at him.
“Okay. Thank you. Anyway, I’m going to bed. I have to get up early, very early, to get the house ready for the party because as far as I can tell, neither of you has done anything.”
“The bike has been delivered,” Jack says sheepishly. “It’s in the garage.”
I sigh loudly. I’d completely forgotten about Charlie’s birthday present, the new bike, to replace her old one that got stolen. “Well, that’s great, Jack. I’m going to bed.”
At the bottom of the stairs, I snatch my bag from the console table. “It would be nice for Charlie if you two could help out. For a change. I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”
I quickly disappear upstairs, and pop in to check on Charlie who is asleep. Her occasional shuddering breath tells me she must have been really upset and I feel a wave of guilt.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, kissing her soft cheek. She doesn’t stir.
In my own bedroom, I lie on the bed, fully clothed, staring at the ceiling. What is wrong with me? I keep trying to do the right thing, but I make a complete mess of it. I think of what Jack said the other day,You sure know how to get your buttons pushed, Laura.The implication being what, exactly? That I poke and prod at Bronwyn until she snaps? That it’s all my fault?