As he pulled the front door open, Caroline felt her jaw start to go slack, but tried to catch herself before she was left simply gaping in surprise.
Too late. The woman standing in the hall was already laughing. “I’m sorry,” she said, extending her hand. “I should have warned your husband that I look just like my aunt — it’s weird, because my mother doesn’t really look like her at all.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Actually, there are times when I suspect I’m really Aunt Virgie’s daughter, but she didn’t want to marry my father. Then I have to start wondering who my father might have been, and when I think of all the men Aunt Virgie—” She stopped short, reddening slightly. “Lord, just listen to me. Why don’t I ever learn to just shut my mouth? I’m Melanie Shackleforth.”
Taking the other woman’s hand and finally finding her voice, Caroline drew Melanie Shackleforth inside. “I’m Caroline Ev—” Now it was she who reddened. “Caroline Fleming,” she finished, still unable to take her eyes off the woman who had just introduced herself. It was as if she were looking at Virginia Estherbrook herself, except that Melanie Shackleforth was slightly taller — perhaps an inch or maybe a little more — and forty years younger. Along with her aunt’s looks, she seemed to have inherited Virginia’s sense of style as well; she was wearing an emerald green pantsuit that showed off her figure without over-accentuating anything, and was the perfect complement for her auburn hair. If she was wearing any makeup it was so expertly applied as to be invisible, and her smile was so utterly genuine that Caroline was certain she was either unaware of how beautiful she was, or simply didn’t care. “This is my husband Tony, who talked to you on the phone.” As she led Melanie toward the kitchen, she found herself apologizing for the apartment. “I know it looks awful, but I’ve been working on so many others that I just haven’t had time to get to ours yet.”
“I love what you’re doing with Aunt Virgie’s,” Melanie said. “And I promise not to get in the way of the workmen. Just tell me what to stay out of, and I’ll make myself invisible. I didn’t really want to come at all, but when Mother and Aunt Virgie suddenly ran off to Italy, she insisted I stay.”
They settled into the kitchen and an hour later, when they finally decided it was late enough to open a bottle of wine, Caroline felt as if she’d known Melanie for years. “Why don’t you stay for dinner?” she asked as Tony poured them each a glass of a bone-dry Chablis.
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly intrude,” Melanie began, but Caroline brushed her words aside.
“You won’t be intruding, believe me. After everything the neighbors did for us when we got back from our honeymoon, it’s the least we can do.” Then, as she thought of Andrea Costanza — and all the paranoid thoughts that would fill the evening if she couldn’t find some kind of distraction — she added a single, plaintive word. “Please?”
“My Lord, how on earth did it ever get this late?” Melanie asked as the clock in the hall struck nine. The three adults were still sitting around the dining room table, though Laurie and Ryan had excused themselves an hour ago and vanished up the stairs to their rooms. Now Melanie started clearing the plates off the dining-room table, and when Caroline tried to stop her, she waved her away. “Go up and tuck those two perfect children of yours into bed.”
“Hardly perfect,” Caroline replied, though Ryan had mercifully decided to behave himself tonight. The arnica Tony had given him earlier had taken care of the bruise on his forehead, and the swelling was mostly down, and apparently his suspension from school had taken the effect Ralph Winthrop was hoping for, at least temporarily. He’d shaken Melanie Shackleforth’s hand after only a moment’s hesitation, and sat through dinner quietly, barely saying a word but responding politely whenever he was spoken to. Caroline caught him looking at Melanie out of the corner of his eye a few times, but at least he’d stopped short of openly staring at her. Laurie had been quiet, too, though she hadn’t eaten much.
“Well you might not think they’re perfect, but from what I’ve seen of modern children, they’re a lot better than average. You ever need a baby sitter, you just let me know, all right?”
Caroline, following her into the kitchen with the last of the chicken casserole they’d put together for dinner, eyed her suspiciously. “Did Tony talk to you while I was upstairs before dinner?” When Melanie only looked blank, she relaxed. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that—” She hesitated, then decided to make a clean breast of it. “We were actually calling your aunt tonight to see if she might be willing to sit for us for the next couple of weeks.” As they scraped the dishes and began loading them into the washer, she told Melanie what had happened at school that day. “I can’t leave Ryan at home alone, and I can’t take any more time off work. But I certainly can’t ask you to watch him for two whole weeks.”
“Of course you can,” Melanie replied. “Consider it done. Now go up and tuck them in, and let me finish up down here. Then I’m out of here, I promise. I can’t believe I came to say hello and stayed the whole evening. That’s terrible!”
“Actually, it’s wonderful. I’d been having a truly miserable day until you showed up. Now I’m starting to think I might survive.”
“New friends,” Melanie said, giving Caroline a quick hug. “We can all use them, right?”
A little more of the weight of the day lifting from her shoulders, Caroline returned Melanie Shackleforth’s hug, then went upstairs to say goodnight to Laurie and Ryan.
“How are you feeling?” Caroline was perched on the edge of Laurie’s bed, and she reached out to brush a lock of hair away from the girl’s forehead.
“I’m okay,” Laurie replied, but there was a note in her voice that belied her words.
“Think you’re going to be well enough to go to school in the morning?”
Laurie shrugged. “I guess.”
Frowning at the listlessness in her daughter’s voice, Caroline laid her wrist against Laurie’s forehead. Cool and dry — no sign of any fever at all. “Is there something else that’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asked.
Laurie hesitated, and when she finally spoke her eyes avoided her mother’s. “I’m just — I don’t know. I’m just—” She fell silent again, then finally met her mother’s eyes. “Do you think something’s happened to Rebecca?”
“Rebecca Mayhew?”
Laurie nodded.
“Why would something have happened to her? Did you talk to her today?”
Again Laurie hesitated, but then she shook her head. “I went up to see her, but she wasn’t there.”
“Not there? Where was she?”
“Mrs. Albion said she went to New Mexico.”
“New Mexico? Why on earth would she have gone to New Mexico?”
“Mrs. Albion said she went to visit Mr. Albion’s brother. She said they thought the desert might be good for her. But…” Again her voice trailed off.
“But what?” Caroline prodded.
“I don’t know,” Laurie said unhappily. “She didn’t tell me she was going anywhere, and I just saw her yesterday. And then last night I had a dream.” She looked up at her mother, her eyes glistening. “I–I dreamed she was dead, Mom.”
As a tear overflowed and ran down Laurie’s cheek, Caroline hugged her daughter close. “Oh, honey, that doesn’t mean anything — dreams are just dreams. The things we see in them don’t really happen.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts,” Caroline said, easing Laurie back down onto the pillows. “All you had was a bad dream, and I’m sure nothing is wrong with Rebecca. But I’ll tell you what — I’ll talk to Alicia in the morning, and find out. Okay?”