Mr. Bird shifts his eyes to Pauline. “Make these kids leave.”
Pauline does what she’s told. It’s no small feat—not a single child wants to leave the carousel.
“But we haven’t gotten our goodie bags yet!” they holler. “I want another ride!”
The rest of the mothers are stepping into the room, and Pauline shoots them a look to tell them they can’t be here.
“All right, party’s over,” she says as cheerfully as she can. “Time to go. What a wonderful afternoon.” She does her best to smile while pushing the children and mothers toward the door handing out the goodie bags.
Then she walks to the carousel and pulls the power cord. The music shuts off and the carousel stops midspin. The kids let out a groan.
The mothers claim their children, each of them glancing once more at the room, at us, and especially at the furious man in the center of it all. Pauline squeezes the group out the door until they’re spilling into the hall.
The sounds of the children drift away, the commotion quieting with a discernible slam of the front door.
Pauline returns to stand beside me. But she’s shaking, and I give her a wary look.
I survey the room—the five of us. The tension in the air is so palpable, I feel like my heart is about to burst. Mr. Bird stands a few feet away while Collette is on the other side of the table. She hasn’t said a word but looks devastated—she doesn’t understand why the party is over. Why the children are gone. Why the carousel is no longer spinning.
It’s a miracle she hasn’t thrown a fit yet. It’s a wonder that the moment Mr. Bird said to get rid of the kids, she didn’t tell him to stop. I’m shocked she isn’t yelling and crying about how upset Patty is. But she doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just stands frozen.
Mr. Bird draws a long and heavy sigh before he speaks. He says my name again, but this time, it’s a low grumble. He’s trying to get his breathing under control. But his eyes harden. “What were you thinking?” he says. “How could you bring those strangers into our home?”
I drop my head, instantly feeling ashamed. “I thought that’s what Collette wanted.”
He stares at his wife, then back at me. “It’s not your job to give Collette whatever she wants. Didn’t you know this would be the worst possible thing you could do?” He moves closer until he’s literally inches from my face, his teeth grinding. “The stupidest, most reckless, most asinine thing you could come up with? I mean, what were you thinking?”
I whimper. “You told me to throw a party.”
“But I didn’t say for you to bring people here. I thought you understood how catastrophic that would be.” He whirls away again, his hands rising to his face. “What are we going to do?” He fires off a look at Stephen. “Those women. We need to track them down. Pay them whatever it takes. Or…” He looks away. “Shit. They’re going to talk. We know they will.”
“No, they won’t,” I insist. “I told them we’d pay them more to stay quiet.”
Mr. Bird rears his head back in laughter. “You stupid, stupid girl. You have no idea how this works.”
Collette speaks up at that moment, her voice quiet and small. “What do you mean pay these women?” She moves around the table and reaches for Mr. Bird’s arm. “Alex, what’s going on? Why did you stop the party? We were having such a wonderful time.” She looks at the rest of us. “I don’t understand what’s happening.” And she turns back to her husband. “You’re scaring Patty.” She puts an arm around a chair and leans to one side to comfort her child. “It’s okay, sweet girl,” she tells her. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, there is no Patty!” Mr. Bird screams.
Collette stiffens.
I freeze.
Pauline’s hands cover her mouth as she gasps, the entire top half of her body heaving. Stephen’s eyes bulge and he falls forward, then stumbles back, reaching to grip a chair beside him.
The air is caught in my windpipe—I’m almost certain I shrieked. My mouth hangs open. My hands rise like Pauline’s to cover my mouth.
“What?” Collette gives a nervous laugh. One of disbelief and confusion. “Why would you say that?” She sits beside Patty, her eyebrows furrowing as she stares at her husband as if he’s truly gone mad.
Mr. Bird groans and spins in a tight circle. He pulls on his face until he’s rubbing at the skin, the sides of his mouth turning pink. He shuts his eyes.
Again, Collette says, “Why would you say that? Why would you say such a horrible thing in front of our daughter—and on her birthday?”
“Collette…this has to stop.”
She flinches. “What has to stop?” Her eyes race from me to Pauline to Stephen. “What is he talking about?”
I see how Mr. Bird is looking at her. He’s about to tell her the truth. He can’t keep this charade up any longer.
After twenty years, it’s becoming too much.
He must be thinking about next year and the year after that. More nannies. More birthday parties to arrange. More voices to silence. It’s getting out of control and he knows it.
Collette is getting out of control. He can’t fight it. The look on his face says it’s time for her to know the truth.