Kristen
“Me time? Who decides to disappear and have ‘me time’ in the middle of her own party?” Stupefied, Kristen read the note for the twentieth time and then dropped it back onto the bed where her mother had left it. Her head throbbed and her feet hurt.
Her plans for the evening were in shreds.
All she wanted right now was for Jeff to sweep her away to a little bistro near the coast, where they’d share a seafood platter and talk long into the night. He’d listen to her in that way only he listened, with his gaze fixed on her face so that he could focus on every word. She would spill out her feelings and he would catch them (unlike Theo, who usually let them fall on the floor where he trod on them on his way to the hospital) and she would feel warm, and heard, and understood and best of all no longer lonely.
But that wasn’t possible. Jeff had left several hours earlier, and Kristen knew she was supposed to be grateful for that because she didn’t need more complication, but she didn’t feel grateful. She felt resentful and feeling resentful made her feel guilty because she knew she shouldn’t be thinking about herself at a time like this.
After she’d intercepted him in the rose garden and told him what had happened, Jeff had behaved impeccably. He’d played the role of “guest” perfectly. Instead of being Jeff her almost lover, he’d turned back into Jeff the art editor, only a softer version of his usually acerbic self. He’d studied the paintings on display, asked intelligent questions (she’d always found a sharp mind more of an erotic draw than broad shoulders) and mingled with colleagues. Jeff had even laughed and chatted with Theo. At some point as the evening progressed Jeff had left without a word. Kristen didn’t know what that meant, and she didn’t have time to think about it now.
As dinner with Jeff wasn’t an option, all she wanted to do was go to bed and close her eyes and pretend her life wasn’t falling apart, but she didn’t have that luxury because she had to support Theo, who was an emotional wreck, and figure out what was happening with her mother. First the party, and now this.
“Where has she gone? And why?”
Winston looked exhausted. He’d played his part talking to journalists and guests and he looked as if he’d be happy not to have another conversation for at least a fortnight. “There are no clues in the note?”
Did he really think she’d be wondering where their mother had gone if there were clues in the note? Kristen hid her irritation, because she knew she was only irritated because she was worried, and snapping at Winston wasn’t going to help that.
“No clues.”
“What do you think we should do, Kris?” He looked at her expectantly and she knew that whatever she suggested he’d go along with because that was what he always did.
“I don’t know.” She was used to being the one in control, but right now she wished someone else would take over. She was tired of responsibility. Tired of doing the right thing when everyone else just did what they wanted to do. Tired of keeping every ball in the air by herself. “If you have suggestions, I’m listening.”
She sat down and removed her shoes, flexing first one foot and then the other. She’d walked miles today, striding between paintings and problems, managing and troubleshooting and smiling until her face ached. All without the help of the most important guest.
Outside it was dark. The guests had left. The champagne had been drunk and the food eaten. Most of the clearing up had already taken place, although the crew would be back in the morning to pick up any remaining detritus.
Kristen lay back on her mother’s bed. When she was discharged from the hospital as a child having almost died, she’d slept in this bed and Cecilia had slept next to her, watching her breathe. Every time she’d opened her eyes, her mother had been there. For the first two nights her father had slept there, too, and she remembered feeling happy and a little smug because she’d reunited a family that she’d been sure was broken.
Her memory of the accident was blurry. She remembered her mother telling her that they were divorcing. She remembered feeling as if her life had collapsed. She’d yelled at her mother and run out of the house. Her next memory was of waking up in the hospital and seeing her parents standing by her bed. Together. They’d talked to the doctors together. They’d watched her bleeping machines together. They held hands at the same time as holding her hand.
Cecilia had cried on Cameron’s shoulder, and he’d hugged her and held her and cried a little himself.
Kristen had never seen her father cry, but he’d cried over her when she was in the hospital and that, together with the suffocating level of attention that followed her accident, made her feel loved and safe and part of a family that just might stay together.
She sat up, pushing those memories away.
Why was she thinking about that now? Possibly because unpredictable parental behavior unsettled her.
The door opened and Theo entered carrying a tray loaded with wine, beer and glasses.
Kristen glanced at his face, trying to gauge his mental state. How was he doing?
When he’d arrived at the party, she’d been terrified that he was going to have some sort of emotional breakdown and that she was going to have to try and find a way to support him while still running a major event and managing the absence of her mother. Theo had surprised her by appearing to be his normally controlled self.
Instead of coming straight from the hospital, he’d stopped off at home to shower and change. He’d arrived looking like the calm, steady man she’d married, and he’d brought Hannah with him.
Kristen had been relieved. On the phone he’d sounded broken and she’d been nervous about how she was going to deal with it. This version of Theo she understood. This version she could handle. Hopefully those unsettling few minutes of unleashed emotion during their phone call were in the past.
“Hannah is on her way up.” He put the tray down on the table and dropped his jacket over the back of a chair. “Bring me up-to-date. What do we know?”
“Not much. This was a good idea, Theo.” Winston poured wine into the glasses. “Genius.”
“I thought we needed it.”
Kristen watched him closely. “Her note simply says that she has gone away for a while and not to worry about her,” she said. “There are no clues as to where she has gone or why.”
“Did she take a taxi or drive herself?” Theo drank his glass of wine quickly and Kristen thought that maybe he wasn’t doing that well after all. Maybe he was just doing well at disguising how bad he felt.
“I don’t know.”
He had been drinking steadily all afternoon and evening, and Kristen hadn’t said anything or tried to intervene because she knew he was on edge and thinking about Michael and she sympathized. She was thinking about Michael, too (and Trisha), but she’d also had to think about all the guests, her speech, Jeff and also Todd who had apparently had champagne thrown in his face by Amelie, which might or might not be linked to the fact that her phone was telling her she now had twelve missed calls from Amelie’s mother. (What was wrong with the woman?)
The way her life was right now, Kristen was ready to snatch the bottle out of Theo’s hand and drink it herself without bothering with the glasses but if she did that who would unravel the various strands of their family mess?
Winston was looking to her to make decisions and it was becoming clear that despite his valiant attempts to disguise his personal crisis, Theo was incapable of thinking of anything except the loss of his friend. Todd might have had some insight because he was close to his grandmother, but no one had seen him since Amelie had tried to drown him.
“No one saw her leave as far as we know.” And it didn’t matter how many times Winston said they shouldn’t worry. She was worried. And angry with her mother for adding yet another stress to her already stressful life. Why couldn’t she just have said where she was going like a normal person? And why couldn’t she have waited until after the party?
“Perhaps we should wait for her to get in touch. We know she’s not in danger.” Winston was practical. “She said she wants some time to herself. What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong is that this was supposed to be her party. And Dad’s exhibition. People were asking questions. There were a hundred people ready to sing her happy birthday and I had to pretend she had a headache. It was awkward.”
Winston looked helpless. “You handled it well, Kris.”
Kristen stood up and walked to the window. She didn’t want praise. She wanted—what did she want?
Not this.
Her entire life was imploding. Her mother was supposed to be here, and she’d vanished without a word. Theo was supposed to be at the hospital, but instead he was here at the party, clearly counting the hours until they could leave and he could stop pretending everything was fine. Jeff had gone. Todd had disappeared. No one seemed to be doing what they were supposed to be doing.
Theo picked up the letter and read it carefully. “Where does a person go for ‘me time’?”
“I don’t know, which is why I’m worried.” Kristen rubbed her forehead. She felt guilty that she had so little insight into the thought processes of her mother. If her mother had needed “me time” why hadn’t she said so? Why leave a note? “We need to find her, obviously.”
“Why obviously?”
“Because she must be having some kind of breakdown. Why else would she leave without telling us? She was behaving oddly all day.”
Hannah walked into the room carrying a bottle of sparkling water and a fruit plate. “Is this the Lapthorne missing persons committee?” She was wearing a fitted navy dress and her hair was loose around her shoulders. She looked young and pretty and very tired. “My preliminary investigations confirm that wherever Nanna has gone, she’s driven there.”
Kristen stared at her. “How do you know?”
“Her car is gone. Detective Work 101.”
“Where did you look?”
“By the stables. That’s where she parks.” Hannah put the fruit plate down and poured herself water. “What am I missing here? Nanna has gone AWOL. I don’t see why it’s a big deal.”
“Today was her birthday party.”
“Who hasn’t wanted to run away from a party in their time?” Hannah helped herself to a grape. “Parties can be exhausting, all that small talk and smiling and saying things you don’t mean to people you probably don’t like. Having to share your cake is a big enough reason to cry.”
Kristen didn’t manage to raise a smile. “Have you seen your brother? He might know where she is.”
“Haven’t seen him.” Hannah put the water down and helped herself to wine instead. “He’s probably trying to keep Amelie happy, which is a full-time job I can assure you. Doesn’t leave a lot of time for anything else.”
Kristen felt she should defend Amelie, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Do you know why Amelie threw champagne over him?”
“Did she do that?” Hannah brightened. “Mmm. Interesting. Well, he can’t say I didn’t warn him.”
“Hannah—”
“They’re adults, Mom. Let them get on with it.”
If only it were that easy. “You’re still my children and I will always worry about you.” Although she would rather not have worried about them today when her worry quota was already overflowing.
“Remind me never to have kids,” Hannah muttered as she put her glass down. “We’re fine, Mom.”
Theo looped his arm around Hannah. “It’s good to spend a bit of time with you. Everything going well at the hospital? I’m proud of you. I hope you know that.”
Hannah shot him a look of alarm. “Are you okay, Dad?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Because you’re—” Hannah shrugged “—I don’t know. Acting a bit weird.”
“What’s weird about telling my daughter I’m proud of her?”
“Nothing, except when it’s coming from you. You don’t normally...” Hannah coughed awkwardly and Theo gave a tired smile.
“And I’m sorry for that. From now on, expect to hear it a lot more from me. It’s important to say things in case you miss the chance.”
“I...right.” Hannah glanced at Kristen and then back at her father. “As long as you don’t embarrass me in public.” She patted his hand and carefully pulled away from him.
Kristen sighed. They were so alike. Both single-minded and focused. They pushed themselves to their mental and physical limits, and sometimes beyond.
Ever since she was young, Hannah had put a ridiculous amount of pressure on herself. Kristen had been one of the few parents who spent her time trying to stop her child studying and encourage her to take a break. It was as if Hannah had taken it upon herself to fulfill her father’s expectations for Todd, too. She was the golden child. Todd was the rebel, although he wasn’t really a rebel of course. He’d just stood firm about doing what he wanted to do, and Kristen had quietly admired that about him.
And right at that moment, Todd strolled into the room. His hair was ruffled, his collar undone and there were several marks on his previously pristine white shirt.
Kristen stared at her son. “We’ve been looking for you. What happened?”
“I was dealing with a personal crisis.”
“Is that—blood?”
“Yes.” Todd rubbed at the mark on his shirt. “But only a relatively small quantity. And it’s mine. Nothing to worry about. There’s plenty left in my body. I don’t need Dad’s attentions yet.”
“Todd!” Driven by a whole new concern, Kristen hurried toward him. “What happened?”
“I fell against your holly bush and the landing wasn’t comfortable.”
“You fell—” She frowned. “How?”
Hannah helped herself to another grape. “Amelie pushed him.”
Kristen looked at her daughter. “How do you know that? You said you hadn’t seen him.”
“I didn’t. But I’m guessing he didn’t throw himself in a holly bush voluntarily. He’s not a masochist.”
“Are you serious?” Kristen turned back to Todd. “Did Amelie push you? First she tries to drown you in champagne and then she tries to lacerate you? Why?”
“It’s pretty obvious,” Hannah said. “That’s what happens when you hook up with a—”
“Thank you.” Todd gave his sister a sharp look. “When I want your opinion on my sex life, I’ll ask for it.”
“I can’t think of anything that interests me less than your sex life. Do you want me to look at that wound for you? My training is more up-to-date than Dad’s.”
“I’d rather consult with Dr. Frankenstein.”
“Stop it.” Kristen felt her blood pressure rising. “I have no idea what is going on between you two, or between you and Amelie, Todd, but it’s time we talked about it.”
Todd scrubbed at the blood on his shirt with his finger. “I’m handling it.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? Because from where I’m standing it doesn’t look as if you’re handling much. Is that the holly bush or her fingernails? You should maybe have a tetanus shot.”
He threw her a warning look and Kristen felt almost as worried about their relationship as she was about Todd’s relationship with his girlfriend. Why wasn’t Hannah supporting him as she usually would? Something had obviously happened between them. Was it to do with Amelie? And she still didn’t know what had happened between Hannah and Lily.
Her head throbbed. She couldn’t think about that now. If Todd said he was handling it, she had to believe he was handling it.
She almost said as much, and then remembered that at some point she was going to have to call Amelie’s mother back, so she needed some facts.
“Is this disagreement of yours the reason I have so many missed calls from Amelie’s mother on my phone?”
Todd winced. “It could be related.”
Hannah rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe her mother is getting involved. It’s not as if Amelie is sixteen years old. Which one of them are you marrying?”
“I’m not marrying anyone.” Todd ignored the wine and grabbed a beer. “I broke it off.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “You’ve only been engaged for a week.”
“Longest week of my life.”
“Judging from the blood on your shirt and the champagne in your hair, I’m guessing this parting of ways wasn’t mutual.”
“Your guess would be correct.”
Hannah patted her brother on his shoulder. “You’re not all bad.”
He shrugged. “Amelie would disagree.”
Kristen watched him, unsure whether to be relieved or concerned. Relieved. Definitely relieved.
“Why is her mother calling me?”
“No doubt to inform you of my deficiencies as a human being.” He removed the cap from the beer and drank. “Apologies if I’ve embarrassed you.”
“I’m not embarrassed,” she said. “But if you didn’t want to get married, why did you propose?”
Todd put his beer down on the table. “It’s a long story. We can talk about it another time. Why is everyone gathered in here anyway? Where’s Nanna?” He glanced around him for the first time.
“We were hoping you might know.” Hannah handed him the note and he scanned it quickly.
“Why would I know?”
“Because you’re the top grandchild.” Hannah poured herself a glass of sparkling water. “You’re the one who sets up her phone, fixes the Wi-Fi on her laptop and tops up the oil in her car. You call in for tea when you’re passing.”
Todd gave the note back to her. “You are welcome to do any, or all, of those things.”
“I’m too busy working and living up to parental expectation.”
What was that supposed to mean? Kristen glanced at Hannah and then at Theo, but he was staring out of the window with a distant look in his eyes.
Her heart ached for him. He’d watched his closest friend die. He hadn’t been able to save him.
That would rip Theo apart. She was surprised he hadn’t told the kids, but maybe the only way he could hold it together was by not talking about it.
When she’d had to appear in public after her father died, she’d done the same. She’d told everyone she was fine and changed the subject, while inside she’d been terrified that she might fall apart in the middle of a crowd.
Was that how her mother had felt today? Had she been afraid of breaking down in the middle of the crowd?
“Let’s focus for two minutes. Does anyone have any idea where Mom—Nanna—might have gone?”
Hannah shrugged. “I assume you’ve tried calling her?”
“I tried three times,” Winston said. “It goes to voice mail. I left messages.”
“Maybe she doesn’t know how to pick up her voice mail.”
“She does,” Todd said. “I showed her.”
Kristen felt a surge of anxiety. “I didn’t think she was herself earlier. Did something happen? Did she say anything to any of you? Anything at all that might give us a clue as to what she was thinking and where she is now? She didn’t want to give a speech, but I immediately said I’d do it so it can’t have been that.”
Todd shrugged. “Maybe she just didn’t want to go to the party.”
“Yeah.” Hannah nodded. “Maybe it was all too much seeing Gramps’s paintings everywhere. I mean, it must hurt, right? All those reminders in one place. We know she doesn’t have any in her bedroom and presumably it’s because they make her sad. Maybe the whole party made her sad.”
Kristen felt a twist of guilt. If she could put the clock back, she wouldn’t have organized the party. She’d thought it was the right thing to do, but now she wasn’t so sure.
“Maybe it was the mention of journalists,” Winston said. “She doesn’t like them. Never has. She finds their questions intrusive, although I don’t know why. It’s not as if she has secrets.”
Maybe she did have secrets, Kristen thought. Maybe there was something they were all missing.
“I think we all need to chill.” Todd picked up his sister’s glass and poured water onto the stain on his shirt. “If she wanted us to find her, she would have told us where she was. Her note was clear. She didn’t sound upset or desperate. I say leave her alone. Let her have her ‘me time’ and wait for her to get in touch.”
Kristen was sorely tempted to follow his suggestion, if only because it would mean she had one less immediate problem to solve. Theo was looking washed out and she wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, grief or the sheer effort required to seem okay when he was falling apart, but she sensed she needed to get him away from here fast.
In terms of her priorities, she was probably looking at it.
“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow,” Winston said. “If this is all about the party, then maybe she left so that no one would try and persuade her to attend. She could be back in the morning.”
“Yes.” Kristen had to admit that there was sense in Winston’s suggestion. “What do you think, Theo?” She tried to draw him out of whatever dark place his mind was currently inhabiting. “Theo?”
He flinched as her voice finally penetrated. “I think life is short and unpredictable, and we should all make the most of the moment. You never know what’s round the corner.”
“Whoa, Dad,” Hannah muttered. “I think Mom was just hoping for your take on the best way to handle the Nanna issue, not your thoughts on the meaning of life.”
“It’s the same thing,” Theo said. “If Cecilia wants space, then we should respect her wishes and allow her that.” He swayed. “It has been a long day. I think I might head home.”
“Maybe we should sleep here tonight,” Kristen said. “In case she comes home.”
Todd raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think it would freak her out to discover that her entire family has moved into her home in her absence? If she left to avoid us, then that might make her turn around and leave again.”
Had her mother been avoiding her family? Had she been avoiding her?
“I can’t stay,” Hannah said. “I’m due back at the hospital in the morning and it’s too far to drive from here. I need to get a cab.”
“I have to go back to the city,” Winston said. “I’ll drive you.” He gave Kristen a look of apology. “I can come back tomorrow if you need me to.”
“I need to go back, too,” Todd said. “I’m driving to Hyannis to give someone a quote for a new hand-built kitchen using sustainable wood.”
Kristen stood there, feeling lost and then Theo crossed the room to her and put his hand on her shoulder.
“I’ll stay here with you if that’s what you’d prefer. I know you’re worried.” His voice was kind and his touch firm and reassuring.
She felt a lump form in her throat. “You want to go home and sleep in your own bed.”
“I want to do what’s right for you. I love you.”
Kristen saw Hannah’s startled look. She saw her glance at her brother.
Theo was undeterred. “We can sleep in your old room. Haven’t done that in years.”
The same room where she’d read her message from Jeff.
“I don’t know—”
“It will be fine, Kristen.” He pulled her close. “Your mother will show up tomorrow, having spent a night at a spa hotel or something. She’ll wonder what all the fuss was about. Everything is going to be fine, honey.”
Honey.
Theo never called her honey, even when he’d had a drink.
Theo, who never paid attention to her, had decided to pay attention.
Why was life so confusing?