AIDAN is running around the playroom with his arms spread wide, making a whooshing sound like he’s an airplane. His toys are all over the floor, but he manages not to trip on them. I’m on the sofa reading a comic book, and Sue is sitting by the window, close to my train set, with her nose stuck in a novel. She’s Aidan’s nanny, and all her books have drawings of people kissing on the covers.
I’d like to go downstairs, maybe to Mr. Hayes’ office. He’s the manager of our hotel, and sometimes he lets me walk beside him in the lobby when he greets the guests. He says the Swanson Court Hotel has a reputation for ‘sterling’ service, which means you have to give people what they want before they ask for it. Sue says I can’t go downstairs because Mom will be back soon.
Aidan suddenly stops running and comes to peer at my comic book. I close the page I’m reading because there’re zombies in it, and he’s only four years old.
He makes a face and reaches for the book, and I stretch my hand up, holding it high enough so his fingers can’t touch it.
“I wanna see,” he complains, sticking out his lower lip.
Sue looks up at us. “Let him see, Landon,” she says, frowning in my direction. She’s really tiny, with short red hair like a boy’s, and she just wants Aidan to be quiet so she can go back to reading her kissing book.
I start to think of a way to distract Aidan, but the door opens before I come up with anything.
“Mommy!” Aidan squeals, forgetting all about me as he runs toward her.
Mom scoops him up in her arms. “How’s my darling little boy?” she says with a bright smile as Aidan settles his head on her shoulder. She buries her nose in his hair and sniffs before turning her smile to me and holding out a hand. “Landon, come say hi.” Her voice is soft and gentle, like her, most of the time. Today, she’s wearing a white, flowy suit, and her curly blonde hair is around her shoulders. She’s beautiful. Everybody says so, even in the newspapers.
“Hi Mom.” I get up and walk toward her outstretched hand, wondering if she’ll let me go downstairs to Mr. Hayes. She ruffles my hair and smiles down at me. “Your dad is coming back tonight. Isn’t that wonderful?”
I forget about going downstairs. “When is he coming?”
She shrugs. “He’ll be here around seven in the evening, maybe.”
I look down at my new watch, my grownup wristwatch—that’s what my dad called it when he gave it to me before he traveled. “Five hours. Cool.”
Mom laughs. I know she’s happy too. My dad is away on business. He didn’t travel so much before, but now he wants to expand our hotel, so he has to go to different cities. Sometimes, they fight on the phone, my mom and dad, especially when he’s gone for very long. I heard Dad tell her she listens too much to the ‘trash’ people say. They were fighting when he said that, but they made up. They always make up when he comes back.
“Will Daddy tuck me in tonight?” Aidan asks.
“Of course,” Mom tells him, chuckling. “They haven’t been any trouble?” She’s talking to Sue, who has quickly hidden her kissing book under some cushions.
“No, they’ve been rather sweet.”
Mom looks at Aidan, who’s still resting his head on her shoulder, looking as cute as an angel, then at the comic book I’ve tucked under my arm. Her eyebrows go up. She doesn’t like the ones with zombies. “I doubt that,” she replies with a sigh.
They start talking about something else then Donna, the maid, comes to the door holding the phone receiver. “Call for you, Mrs. Court,” she says to my mom.
“Who is it?”
“Mrs. Buckley.”
Mom sighs and sets Aidan on his feet before going to the door to take the receiver from Donna. Mrs. Buckley is mom’s friend Auntie Thelma, who Mom laughingly calls a busybody. I don’t like her, and I don’t think Mom does very much either.
She takes the receiver with her, talking as she leaves us in the playroom. Aidan starts to run around again, singing a silly song he made up, so I leave him there with Sue and follow Mom to her sitting room. It’s my favorite place in our whole apartment. It has billowy lace curtains, a reading nook with lots and lots of books, and a soft sofa that smells just like Mom.
She is standing by the windows with the receiver to her ear. “No, it’s fine,” I hear her say. “Thanks for telling me.”
From the sound of her voice, I know something is wrong. She stands still for a few moments then starts to press the buttons on the receiver. When she puts it to her ear and starts talking again, her voice is angry, the way it always sounds when she’s fighting with Dad.
“Someone saw you!” she says accusingly. “You had dinner with her and then you went upstairs together. Do you know how embarrassed I am? How am I supposed to believe you when the same thing keeps happening all the time?”
I don’t understand everything she says, but I can tell she’s mad at Dad. After a few more words, she tosses the receiver at the wall then puts her face in her hands as it clatters to the floor. She’s sobbing loudly. I wish Dad would come home right now. He’ll tell her he loves her and she’ll be happy again.
“Mom?”
She spins around and sees me then quickly turns away again, but not before I see the tears on her face.
“Mom…” I try to think of something to say, one of the things Dad usually says to make her smile, but now I can’t remember anything.
She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. When she turns around again, she’s smiling. She doesn’t want me to know she was crying, but I already saw, and her eyes are still red. “Hey sweetheart,” she murmurs. “I thought you were in your playroom with Aidan.”
“It’s Aidan’s playroom. I’m not a baby.”
That makes her smile. “Okay.”
I go to pick up the phone from the floor and place it on the coffee table. “You were fighting with Dad.”
She smiles again. “Don’t worry about it sweetheart. It was just…” She sighs. “It was nothing.”
I nod. “He’s coming home today,” I remind her, hoping it will cheer her up. “You can make up when he gets here.”
The smile disappears from her face. “No,” she says, her voice changing. “By the time he comes, we’ll be gone.”
MOM is speeding. She hardly ever drives, except when we’re at our house upstate and she doesn’t want the chauffeur. She didn’t want him today. She made Donna pack up a case each for Aidan and me, and she put them in Dad’s green Ferrari and buckled us in the back.
Aidan is looking at me, his eyes wide. His tiny hands are tight around Alfred, his bear. Even he knows something is wrong. “Are we going to see Daddy?” he asks hopefully.
I can’t think of anything to tell him, so I ruffle his hair. He likes that. “Where’re we going?” I ask Mom.
She doesn’t reply. We’re already out of the city, but we’re not going in the direction of our house.
“Where’re we going?” I ask again.
“For God’s sake,” she snaps at me. “Keep quiet and let me drive.”
“You’re scaring Aidan,” I tell her. I’m scared too. I don’t want my parents to get a divorce.
Mom doesn’t reply. Instead, she starts to drive faster, till it feels like we’re flying over the highway.
Aidan peers out the window just as we zoom past a big truck. “Mommy?” he cries.
“Now you’ve upset him,” Mom snaps.
I fold my arms. “I didn’t upset him. You upset him.”
“Landon…”
“I want to go back,” I announce, hoping she’ll turn around. “I want to wait for Dad.”
She glares at me in the mirror, and I frown as deep as I can.
“Well, we’re not going back,” she says.
“I don’t want to leave. If you’re getting a divorce, I want to stay with Dad in the hotel.”
“I want Daddy,” Aidan cries.
Mom starts to cry. I can see the tears running down her face in the mirror. I know she really doesn’t want to leave. If we go back and wait for my dad, everything will be okay.
But she keeps on driving, and I start to wish that anything would happen, anything at all to make us turn back.