“Thanks,” Nicole said, returning civility for civility. Then, out of the year and a half she’d been away, she said as she wouldn’t have done before, “And thanks for looking after the kids.”
“Hey, no problem,” Dawn said, as if she meant it.
Then Nicole didn’t have to bother about being civil. Two small figures erupted past Frank’s girlfriend, in a hot contest to see who could run the fastest and scream “Mommy!” the loudest. Kimberley probably won on points, but Justin took the prize for enthusiasm. They launched themselves at her like a pair of rockets. She had just enough time to brace herself before they knocked her down.
She let her knees give way, and sank down on the front step, hugging the warm wriggling bodies, kissing whichever was handiest, babbling at them — she never did know what, nor care. They were so small. And so
These two were even more wiggly and even more boisterous than Umma’s older, larger children. They calmed down eventually, enough to each take half of her lap and cling there. Just as Kimberley sucked in breath, probably to start regaling Nicole with a rapid-fire account of every event of the past six days, Frank’s voice said, “Nicole. Hi.”
Nicole had got so wrapped up with the kids — literally and figuratively — that she hadn’t even noticed his taking Dawn’s place in the doorway. “Hello,” she said coolly from the bottom of the pile of kids. Frank was exactly the same as ever, early-middle-aged, his dark hair thinning, and his sturdy body — so much like Justin’s — beginning to get paunchy, with that supercilious expression Nicole had mistaken, very early on, for an indication of superior intellect. She couldn’t imagine what Dawn Soderstrom saw in him. A year and a half in Carnuntum hadn’t made it any clearer.
But Dawn plainly adored him. The way she stood, deferring to him, the way she looked at him, her whole attitude and posture, must have struck him as profoundly satisfying and perfectly right. Nicole had been awed enough by him when she first knew him, and she’d bought into it enough to marry him. But she didn’t think she’d ever worshipped the ground he deigned to walk on.
He frowned down at her. No doubt he didn’t think it was dignified of her to be sitting on the step of her own house, half drowned in kids.
“Not a one,” Nicole answered. “All the tests came back negative. The neurologist wants to see me again next week.”
“Dr. Feldman,” Frank said, precise as usual. “Yeah, I talked with her. She does seem to know what she’s doing, but people don’t just go to sleep for six days. Did she say whether you’d be likely to do it again?”
“She didn’t know,” Nicole said, not without malice. Frank looked sour. He liked definite answers, and he very much disliked disruptions. It must have been a dire inconvenience to have to give up Canciun in favor of a week of looking after his own kids.
Nicole bit her tongue. Time was when she would have said all that to his face, and taken active pleasure in the fight that followed. But she’d come too far and seen too much to indulge herself now, and the kids were starting to wriggle. Kimberley spoke up in her clear, precise voice — just like Frank, but by as many gods as it took, Nicole wasn’t going to let her grow up to be just like her father. “I called nine-one-one, Mommy, just like you told me to,” she said.
Nicole hugged her so hard she squeaked in protest, then hugged Justin, who was demanding equal time. “I know you did, sweetie. They told me in the hospital. You did just what you were supposed to.”
Kimberley looked thoroughly pleased with herself. She got to her feet, and watched as Nicole unknotted herself and stood, still holding Justin.
“We’re going to Woodcrest now, Mommy,” Kimberley said.
“Woodcrest,” Justin agreed.
“My teacher is Miss Irma,” Kimberley went on, “and Justin’s teacher is Miss Dolores, and — “
She’d have gone on, and probably at great length, if Frank hadn’t interrupted. “I signed them both up to start Monday, and paid the first month up front.”
Nicole’s eyes widened slightly. “All right,” she said. “Good. How much is that going to cost?”
He told her. She winced. It didn’t take long to do the mental calculations. “If I’m going to be paying that every month, you’ll have to keep up with the child support.”
“I know, I know,” he said, as he always did. That was his way of taking the easy way out. Promises, promises. Well, Nicole thought: words were cheap, but court-ordered support payments were a whole lot more concrete than that.
She was going to have to work to get what was legally due her. She resented like hell having to struggle for it, but the fact remained that if she pressed her case, she could get what was coming to her. No need to put up and shut up. She was entitled to that money, and she would get it.
She didn’t push him, not yet. But she smiled a little. She would. Oh, yes. She would.
With Justin still in her arms and Kimberley clinging to her leg, she stared Frank down till he gave way and let her into the house — her own house, she made a point of noting. Even after a week of being run by somebody else, it had its familiar smell, the smell of home. There was a clear component of baby lotion and slightly sour milk, microwaved dinners and fruit juice. Next to spilled wine, burning charcoal, and the sweat-dung-dirt stink of a Roman city, it was heavenly.
The place was clean. Cleaner than it had been when she left it — Frank was an astringent neatnik. The microwave in the kitchen was brand-new. She smiled; trust Frank, yet again, to suit his own convenience. She smiled at the faucet, at the coffeemaker, at the stove, at the refrigerator. She wanted to hug the refrigerator. And the washer, and the dryer. All the things she’d taken for granted, that she’d been forced to live without.
“We’ve got our suitcases all ready to go,” Dawn said as she left the kitchen to make the rounds of the rest of the house. “Unless you’d rather we stayed for a little while? Will you be all right by yourself?”
Nicole glanced automatically at Frank. His expression was distinctly sour, but he nodded. They were both trying very hard to be decent about things.
“I appreciate that,” Nicole said. She surprised herself: she meant it. “I will be okay, I think. If I start to feel rocky, do you mind if I call you?”
“No, not at all,” Dawn said. “Not in the slightest. Here, let me put our number up by the phone, why don’t I? Kimberley, you see this number? If your mommy starts to feel sick and can’t dial the phone, you call it, all right?”
Kimberley looked as if she wanted to burst out crying, but was too big a girl now to succumb to the urge. She held her head up high and nodded.
Nicole hugged her again — any excuse for a hug — and said, “I don’t think you’ll need to do that, honeybunch. I feel fine.” And she did. She felt wonderful. That wasn’t the whole of it, or even a tenth part, but it was as true as that she stood, at last, in her house in West Hills.
Frank eyed her a little oddly — hoping she was right, afraid she was wrong, she supposed — but then he said, “Okay. We’ll finish packing up, then. It won’t take long.”
Frank was efficient — efficient to a fault sometimes, as in the way he’d dumped her. She wasn’t at all sorry to see him and Dawn out of her bedroom, her house, and, for that matter and however temporarily, her life.
The children hugged and kissed them both good-bye. Frank was their father; Nicole could hardly mind that they seemed sorry to see him go. But it was as much as she could do to keep a smile on her face while they did the same to Dawn. For all her good intentions, she couldn’t help wondering which of those two would be the first to trade the other in for a new model.
Then, at long last and yet also a bit soon, they were done. Nicole was alone in the house with her kids. She caught herself looking around for Julia, to ask her to lend a hand.
It amazed her how much she missed Julia. Not just the helping hand. The company; the alliance against the world; even, to an extent, the friendship.
“This is funny, Mommy,” Kimberley said from waist level, where she’d been since Nicole came into the house. “We’re not home with you in the daytime very much.”
“You aren’t, are you?” Nicole said. They were at daycare during the week and at Frank’s on the weekends.
