Page 4 of The Night the Lights Went Out
“Call him anytime. If there are any repairs, he’ll give me a fair estimate and will actually show up when he’s supposed to.”
Merilee studied the card. “So he’s like a handyman? I’m looking for someone to build me more bookshelves for a collection I have.”
“Just call him directly—I don’t like to be... involved with any tenant issues. He’s very handy because he’s a builder, but he does work for me because his grandma is my best friend and I’ve known him since he was in diapers. Just let him know who you are and he won’t say no.”
“Thank you,” Merilee said, taking the card.
Sugar gave Merilee the keys to the cottage before walking them to the door. “I had my housekeeper put clean sheets on all the beds. There are clean towels in the linen closet in the hallway and in both bathrooms. You’ll be responsible for keeping it clean from here on out.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Prescott... Sugar. You’ve been more than kind.”
“I didn’t do it to be kind. I did it because it’s my job. And because I don’t want a phone call in the middle of my shows asking where all the sheets and towels are.”
Merilee’s smile faltered as Sugar held the door open to let them pass, noticing the frown on Lily’s face.
“Can you call Mr. Kimball now, Mom? I need to make sure we have Wi-Fi.”
“Please stop worrying, Lily. I’ll call him in just a minute.” There was an edge to Merilee’s voice that hadn’t been there before. As if her last nerve had already snapped and she was grabbing at its threads.
Sugar turned to Merilee. “Just remember what I told you about the woods. They’re fine to admire from a distance, but they’re not safe.”
“Got it,” she said, sliding open the back door of the minivan. “With school starting and all their activities, I doubt we’ll have much time for exploring anyway.”
They said good-bye, then pulled away, Sugar watching all three heads strain forward in their seats as they waited for the sight of their new home to loom into view from under the canopy of the oak trees, baby birds looking for sustenance.
She listened to the drip of water trickling off the porch roof and onto the old wood steps. Looking up at the sky, she stepped off the porch and into the drive, aware of the hum of the Honda’s engine in front of her, just out of sight behind the oaks. Like so much in her life now, Sugar didn’t need to see things to know they were there.
She allowed her eyes to follow the rainbow, noticing its colorful arches ending in the middle of her woods. She didn’t need to go there to know there was no bag of gold or anything else a person would want to find. Her lips turned up in an unfamiliar grimace as she headed back inside, feeling the breeze from the opened windows teasing her with the scent of rain and old memories that seemed as permanent as the red clay that lay beneath her feet and under the tall pines of the dark woods.
Two
MERILEE
Acluster of moms surrounded by high-end SUVs stood in the parking lot following first-day drop-off at Windwood Academy. The women appeared to be listening with rapt attention to the tall blond woman in the center of their semicircle, her hair arranged perfectly beneath her white tennis visor, her long and lean limbs brown and glowy. Merilee noticed this last part only because her ex-mother-in-law had given her a bottle of glowy lotion for her last birthday and Lily had told her it made her look sparkly like Katy Perry in one of her videos. Merilee had thrown out the remainder of the bottle, realizing she wasn’t the type anymore to look glowy, much less sparkly.
But the blonde definitely was. Her whole body glowed. Her face glowed. Even the hair visible beneath the visor appeared to be lit from within. The woman looked vaguely familiar, and Merilee realized she’d probably been one of the mothers she’d met at the open house the previous week. She’d only been to the one “let’s get acquainted” event, her work schedule precluding her attendance at any of the various parties that were held almost exclusively on weekdays.
Merilee was terrible with names, had been ever since she started dating Michael. He was so good at it, always reminding her who everyone was when they were at a party, that she’d simply stopped trying. She hoped she was only out of practice instead of permanently disabled. Her children’s futures probably depended on it, since Michael wouldn’t be there to make sure Merilee remembered the names of Lily’s friends who were or were not speaking to each other. And which of Colin’s teachers appreciated his dreamy attitude and which didn’t. It had always been a game with them, her recalling every detail about a friend or teacher—details always overlooked by Michael—and then he’d fill in the missing part, the name. But now she had to do it all on her own.
She smiled vaguely in the direction of the blond woman and her entourage and had almost made it to her minivan when she heard her name being called.
“Merilee? Merilee Dunlap?”
Great. The woman remembered not only her first name but her last as well. Forcing a warm smile on her face, Merilee turned. “Oh, hello. It’s good to see you again.”
The other women parted like the Red Sea as the tall blonde walked toward Merilee, and she remembered that the woman had been wearing a Lilly Pulitzer sundress and two-carat diamond stud earrings when they’d met before. But she didn’t remember her name. “I thought that was you. I looked for you in Mrs. Marshall’s homeroom. I’m the room mother and wanted to welcome Lily myself.”
Merilee remembered the voice. It was very Southern, heavily laced with dropped consonants and elongated vowels. The most memorable part about it was that it sounded exactly like Merilee’s mother did.
“We were running a bit late this morning.” Feeling suddenly short and frumpy in her dark skirt and blazer, Merilee had the strong urge to explain. “My son couldn’t find his new uniform shoes. They somehow managed to find their way back into the box they came in and then got shoved so far under his bed that it took nearly twenty minutes to locate them. And then Lily spilled her bowl of cereal and milk down the front of her skirt, and I had to quickly iron one of her other ones so she could wear it.”
The woman gave her a warm smile from behind dark Chanel sunglasses as if she knew exactly what it was like to be a frazzled single mother. “Bless your heart. And on the first day at a new school. You’ll get used to the routine—I promise. It took me a whole month to realize that I should have a skirt and blouse for every school day plus one, and have Patricia have them cleaned and ironed as soon as my girls dropped them on the floor.”
Not exactly sure how to respond, Merilee picked out the first confusing part of the sentence. “Patricia?”
“My house manager. I couldn’t live without her. You know how crazy busy it is with all the kids’ schedules.” She reached into her large handbag, which was more briefcase than purse, with a designer’s logo sprouting over its surface like kudzu. “I was going to stick this in the mail to you, but since you’re here I’ll give it to you now. It’s a sign-up sheet for parties and field trips—it lists everything for the year. Just let me know your availabilities and ask Lily to bring it in to school and give it to Bailey as soon as you can. Bailey is very responsible and will make sure it gets to me.” The woman smiled, her teeth perfect. “Only sign up for four—every mother wants to be at every single event, but then it just gets crowded—plus there won’t be room on the bus for the kids.”
“Only four...” Merilee took the list and looked at it, almost letting out an audible sigh when she saw the woman’s name at the top of the page,Heather Blackford, Class Mother, followed by three different phone numbers. Now she remembered. Heather had a daughter in Colin’s class, too, both girls’ names starting with “B.”
