Watch Out for Her, page 5
She gets up and takes the stupid lemon dress out of her massive closet, laying it over her desk chair, scowling at it as she goes to her bathroom to shower. Once dressed in her swimsuit, a red one-piece this time, cutoffs, and a tank top, she heads outside to find once again that Lisette’s car has prevented her from getting to her own. It’s like she does this on purpose. A classic power play. Holly’s going to be late.
As she walks her bike out of the garage and hops on, she looks up at the second-floor windows, hoping to see her father in his study so she can wave goodbye. She skipped breakfast because he wouldn’t be there anyway. He has an early business call. But when she looks up, all she sees is Lisette at the window, arms crossed, glaring at her.
By the time Holly gets to the Goldmans’, she’s fifteen minutes late. She shakes off thoughts of her screwy family dynamics and races up the driveway, where Jacob hops on a pogo stick.
“Hi, Holly!” he yells, as if she isn’t right next to him.
“Hi, Jakey!” she yells back as she takes off her helmet.
He stops so they can do their secret handshake while Sarah laughs from the porch, in her usual spot on the white wicker chair, sipping coffee and watching her son.
Holly brushes the sweat from the back of her neck, the baby hairs catching in her silver necklace. Sarah watches her struggle to remove the strands.
“Come here. Let me help.”
Holly leaves her bike and helmet and walks up the porch steps, out of breath. Sarah gets up and gently separates the clasp from Holly’s hair.
“Sorry I’m late. My car was blocked in. I biked as fast as I could.”
“No worries. One of the perks of working from home is that I have no boss.” She grins as Jacob bounces down the driveway. “Except for that little guy.”
Holly closes her eyes, relishing the feeling of Sarah’s warm fingers grazing her skin. She can’t remember the last time she felt such a loving touch from anyone but Alexis.
Sarah pats her shoulders. “All fixed,” she says as she walks in front of Holly. “That’s such a pretty necklace. Cute snowflake logo. The pendant’s a yin, right?”
Holly nods. “My stepsister gave it to me. She has the yang. It’s from Unique, this cool boutique shop in Granville. Everything is one of a kind.”
A year ago, on the fifteenth anniversary of the day they’d first come into each other’s lives, her stepsister handed her a pale lavender box, where the delicate silver chain was nestled on a bed of cotton.
Alexis revealed the necklace she wore herself, a matching one with a similar pendant. “You’re the yin to my yang.” She grinned, her slightly crooked front tooth so endearing. “Matching sister necklaces.”
Holly was so touched that she cried and hugged Alexis tightly. “You’re the most important person in the world to me. Do you know that?”
“It’s a really nice necklace,” Sarah says now. “But it’s way too cool for an old mom like me. May I?” she asks as she raises her hand to Holly’s neck.
“Sure,” Holly says. Sarah delicately holds the silver yin between two fingers and turns it over. “ ‘H’ for Holly. That’s so nice. You and your stepsister must be close.”
They would do anything for each other. It’s always been that way. Alexis covered for her when she stayed out past her curfew; Holly sweet-talked a police officer into not pressing charges when Alexis and some friends chained themselves to a cedar tree so it wouldn’t be cut down by a developer. Their bond is as strong as any blood sisters, maybe even more so.
The only thing that Alexis doesn’t realize is how lucky she is. She doesn’t realize the extra burden Holly carries, the expectations, the things she knows she has to do but are unspoken. If Alexis knew, she’d be disgusted, shocked. She wouldn’t understand.
Holly nods, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Alexis has an ‘A’ on the back of her pendant. Do you have any siblings?”
“One.” Sarah sits back down on the wicker chair, crossing her legs at the ankles. Her yoga pants are pilling, and she has a coffee stain on the bottom of her white T-shirt. “A younger brother. Nathan. I always wanted a sister.” She shrugs. “And a daughter.” Sarah glances wistfully at Jacob still hopping away on the driveway.
Holly sits in the other wicker chair and stays quiet. Over the last week, she’s learned that Sarah sometimes needs time to express herself. So she leans back and waits.
“I—I miscarried when I was sixteen weeks pregnant. Sorry. That’s probably too much information.”
“Not at all,” Holly says. “I’m so sorry. That must have been very hard.” She notices heavy shadows under Sarah’s eyes. “Are you okay?” she asks.
“Insomnia. But I’m fine.” Her face flushes red.
“Holly! Come watch me! I can do a hundred bounces in one minute.”
She moves to stand, but Sarah shakes her head. “You don’t have to respond every time he wants something. It’s okay to let him wait.”
Holly appreciates this. She knows it’s coming from a good place. “I’m just talking to your mom, Jakey,” she calls out. “I’ll be there in a minute.” She turns back to Sarah after. “It’s hard not to give him everything he wants. He’s such a great kid.”
“And demanding.” Sarah laughs. “But thank you. He’s completely enamored with you. He’s just so happy these days.”
Holly beams. “I hope you’re getting a lot of work done. Are you planning to show your photography? Or sell it?”
Sarah picks up her coffee, taking a long sip. “I’m nowhere near that stage yet. Out of a hundred shots, maybe a few are good, and each film reel takes a long time to develop.”
“Why don’t you use digital?”
“I like the process of loading the film, mixing chemicals. Watching the transformation.” She flinches as Jacob wobbles on the pogo stick. “And unlike parenting, it’s something I can control.”
Holly understands completely. She feels in her pocket for the Dior mascara she swiped from Lisette’s bag before she left this morning.
“You know, it will only take me a couple of minutes to set up an Instagram account for you. You don’t have to post every day or anything. But it’s a good way to promote yourself.”
Sarah bites her lip. “I don’t know…” She looks down at herself, then up at Holly. She hands her the phone that’s on the small table. “Do it before I change my mind.”
Holly laughs, noticing Sarah has no lock screen. Then she downloads the app, and in minutes, Sarah has an Instagram account. She gives her the phone back and watches as a slow smile spreads across Sarah’s face.
“Sarah Goldman Photography. I love it.” She touches Holly’s knee. “Thank you.”
“The easiest thing to do would be to take some photos on your phone and share them.”
“Oh my God, Holly, I’ve been waiting forever!” Jacob says from the driveway. “Please.”
“That’s my cue.” Holly unzips her backpack. “I got him something.” She removes the stuffed gray bunny and holds it out in front of Sarah.
Sarah smiles. “That’s so sweet. He’s really into superheroes right now, but I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
Holly’s anticipation dims, but when Jacob spots the toy in her hand, he drops the pogo stick and comes running over. “For me?” He clutches the bunny to his chest. “I love him. I love him so much.”
Sarah’s eyes go wide with surprise. “What do you say to Holly, Jake?”
“Thank you!” he says, then throws his arms around her.
Holly laughs and hugs him back. “You’re welcome.”
“I’d better get moving,” Sarah says. “I actually need to run some errands before I get to work. Text if you need me.” Sarah pats Holly’s shoulder, kisses Jacob on the head, picks up her phone and purse, then walks toward the garage.
She and Jacob both watch as Sarah backs her car out of the driveway and drives down the street. It’s the first time since Holly started babysitting Jacob that Sarah has left them home alone.
Holly turns to Jacob. “Want to play hide-and-seek?”
As an answer, he runs into the house with the bunny. “You’ll never find me and Mr. Blinkers!”
Holly follows him inside. “Mr. Blinkers?” Holly asks. “Is that what you’re going to call him?”
“Yeah!” He giggles and runs up the stairs.
“Go hide, and I’ll try to find you!”
Once he’s gone, she heads to the living room and looks at the black vase on the mantel where she knows a nanny cam is hidden. She saw it her very first day, though she’s never mentioned it to Sarah. Older people always think younger people don’t know they’re being watched, which is kind of funny given that old people barely have a grasp of technology.
Sarah seems shy about her photography, but now that she has an Instagram account, Holly can help her curate some photos to post. Sarah’s never explicitly told her not to go in the darkroom, and with Jacob hiding, it will give her a few minutes to poke around. She won’t take anything, of course. Just a quick look at Sarah’s work.
She spins away from the nanny cam, calling, “I’ll give you a bit longer to find a really good hiding spot,” in case the camera picks up sound or Jacob’s waiting for her, and tiptoes down the stairs to the basement, her pulse thumping. At the bottom of the steps, she looks past the bar, huge flat-screen television, and tan leather couch. She’s never seen a camera down here, though it’s not a space she and Jacob play in often. There’s a bathroom right under the stairs, a guest room, and the darkroom she’s never been inside. The door’s always closed, and now she’s desperate to open it.
Holly knows nothing about developing film. She doesn’t want to ruin any photos, and she definitely doesn’t want Sarah to know she’s sneaking around. But the heady pull of seeing what Sarah creates is stronger than her worry.
Holly turns the knob. The room is pitch-black and windowless, and she quickly shuts the door behind her to block out any light. She’s aware, at least, that light can damage photos, but she can’t make out a thing in the dark. She can just make out the silhouette of a bulb hanging above her in the middle of the room, a white string hanging from it. She tugs the string. The room floods with red, and now she can see that it’s divided into two spaces. One side houses a sink, above which a wire holds clips of negatives with images similar to the photos on the walls throughout the house. There’s a shelf of bottles, a large tray, and a black-and-silver contraption that looks like a machine her eye doctor uses. Sarah’s seriously old-school. Does she even know how to use a digital camera?
On the opposite side of the room in the back corner is a metal filing cabinet. Holly pulls on the cabinet handle. Locked.
She still has her backpack on. She hesitates for a moment, then quickly takes out the aquamarine key chain she found on Etsy, sliding out the mini knife, scissors, and nail file. Her heart bangs against her chest as she angles the nail file into the right spot in the lock and hears a satisfying click.
A loud crash from upstairs makes her jump.
Shit. Jacob. What has he done now? She relocks the drawer, leaves the darkroom, and runs back to the main floor. “Ready or not, here I come!”
No quiet giggle or heavy breathing. There’s no noise at all.
Holly tosses her backpack on the couch and searches every room on the second floor. No Jacob. Her body is numb. She runs out to the pool deck, petrified about what she’ll find. She heaves a huge sigh of relief when he’s not in the pool. She hears something and runs to the door in the mudroom leading to the garage. Flinging it open, she sees Jacob in the garage, standing on the seat of his dirt bike, Mr. Blinkers dangling over the handlebars.
The bike wobbles, and Holly can’t reach him before the bike falls to the concrete.
“Oh my God!”
Jacob lies on his side on the ground next to a red toolbox, which must have fallen from the metal shelf. His eyes are open, and he begins to quietly cry. “Ow,” he says as tears streak down his face.
Holly shoves the toolbox and bike out of the way and rushes to him, running her fingers over his scalp to check for bumps and bleeding. His head is perfect, thank goodness. “What’s your name?”
He pouts as he answers between sobs. “That’s a dumb question. You know who I am.”
Quickly, she examines him all over. Besides a large bruise blooming on his right knee, he seems okay. She wants to cry, too. “I’m trying to make sure you don’t have a concussion.”
“Ask me something harder.”
What does your mom hide in her locked drawer? It’s the first thing that springs to mind, though she doesn’t say it out loud.
Holly helps Jacob sit up, and his little shoulders relax when he spots Mr. Blinkers, who fell from the handlebars. He seizes the bunny, inspecting him. “Is he hurt, Holly?”
He holds him out for her. She examines him as seriously as she would a real animal. “He’s got a little rip in his bum. I’ll sew him up for you.” She bites her lip, hating herself for having left Jacob on his own. She knows it was wrong, that it’s her fault he’s hurt himself. “Just this once, maybe we tell your mom you tripped on the pool deck while we were swimming, okay? I don’t think she’ll like that you were in the garage by yourself.”
Jacob nods. “Okay,” he says.
Holly puts the toolbox back in the empty spot on the shelf. Once they go inside, she sets Jacob up on a chair in the kitchen and puts an ice pack on his bruised knee. Once he seems fine, she grabs a puzzle from the wicker basket in the living room, and they sit at the table together, away from the nanny cam, Jacob’s leg resting on a pillow. A half hour later, the front door opens. Sarah, her hair piled into a lopsided bun, comes into the kitchen with grocery bags. She takes in the ice pack, Jacob’s propped-up knee, and drops the bags instantly.
“What happened?”
“He fell, but he’s fine. Just a bruised knee.”
Sarah inspects Jacob’s leg and pulls him to her, kissing his head. “Monkey. You have to be more careful.”
“It was my fault,” Holly says. “I was too far away from him to stop him from tripping.” She waits for Sarah to get angry, but Sarah puts her warm hand on Holly’s cold one.
“Not your fault. He’s impulsive. You can’t watch his every step.”
Holly’s stomach hurts. Sarah has been nothing but kind and generous to her, and she’s not only violated her privacy, she’s also just lied about her son’s fall. Worse, she’s shirked her responsibilities in looking after him and then taught Jacob how to lie to his own mother.
“Why don’t I get our art supplies and you guys can make a rock garden or something creative?” Sarah asks.
Holly remembers the pet rocks she and Alexis made when Holly was seven that turned out to be expensive tanzanite worth thousands. Lisette was furious with them for painting her precious gemstones. She laughs out loud at the memory.
“What?” Sarah asks.
“Just thinking about the dumb things I did when I was a kid.”
“You’re lucky. That you got to do dumb things, I mean. My dad died when I was young. I was responsible for a lot at a young age.” She shakes her head. “Maybe I should go easier on Jacob.”
“You’re a great mom,” Holly says. “My mom died having me.”
Sarah’s mouth drops open. “Oh, honey, that’s awful. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know. I don’t know anything about her because my dad never talks about her.” It spills out of her mouth before she can stop it. She never talks about how much she misses her mother even though she’s never known her. There are no photos of her around the house. The only picture she has of her mother was when she was six months pregnant with Holly. A flame-haired stunner with the prettiest amber eyes Holly has ever seen.
“It’s just… it’s so sad. But it must be great to have Lisette in your life.”
They lock eyes. “It’s not,” Holly says. “I mean, it’s not always great.”
Sarah doesn’t pry. She only nods. “Understood.”
I wish you were my mom, Holly thinks to herself.
Sarah glances at the chunky Timex on her wrist. “I’d better get back to it. Call down if you need me?”
“Of course,” Holly replies. “I just have to make sure I leave right at four to get ready for the party tonight.”
Sarah grimaces. “Yes, the party.”
“I know,” Holly agrees, then worries she’s said too much. “Lisette said you’re going. I’m really glad you’ll be there.”
Sarah grins.
For the rest of the day, Holly works extra hard to keep Jacob busy with fun activities. She also sews up Mr. Blinkers, telling Jacob the bunny now has a cool scar. He likes that. By the time she sees Daniel Goldman in her peripheral vision through the living room window, walking around the pool and into the cabana, Jacob’s beaten her twice at gin rummy. She glances at the clock on the wall to the right of the television. It’s only 3:30 p.m. Maybe he’s home early because of the party.
Holly expects Daniel to leave his cabana and come into the house any minute, but it’s a full thirty minutes before he walks through the front door.
“Hey, kiddo,” he says as he enters the living room, putting his brown leather satchel on the floor and holding out his arms for his son.
Jacob runs straight to him. “Daddy!” He launches himself at his father’s leg, his injury forgotten, holding on while Daniel picks him up and swings him around the room, then puts him back down.
He extends his hand for Holly. “I’m Daniel. I’ve heard so much about you, Holly. Nice to meet you finally.”
Holly shakes his hand and smiles reflexively.
Daniel looks down at his son. “Mommy and I are going out tonight. Nora from down the street is babysitting. You can order a pizza and watch Avengers: Endgame.” He looks at Holly and puts a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell Sarah I said he could watch that.” Daniel grins at her over Jacob’s bouncing head, then turns to Holly. “Your father told me you’re going to the engagement party, too.”
“Yes.”
Jacob gazes up at his dad. “I fell and got hurt. But I was brave.”
