ChapterFour
It had been a very long time since Elsa Remington had allowed herself to sleep in. Especially since Mallory had moved in with Zachery, there had been a non-stop barrage of chores: diapers to change, bottles to heat, and milk to buy. Plus, there was a steady stream of Remington-Grimson-Potter women at the Remington House, requiring breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and bottles of chilled white wine.
But that wasn’t the last of Elsa’s responsibilities. The Katama Lodge and Wellness Spa was its own beast altogether, bringing the occasional PR nightmare, plus hundreds of women from across the globe, hoping to heal themselves with Janine’s naturopathy, Nancy’s yoga, and Carmella’s acupuncture. In recent weeks, they’d hired a second naturopathy doctor named Beatrice, a woman around Nancy’s age who’d recently been involved in a hit-and-run on the island (which had resulted in delirious gossip about who’d done it). Beatrice was a shoo-in, already digging herself into their incredible client list and becoming real friends with the Remingtons. Still, onboarding her into their business, especially in the wake of her injuries, had been another struggle. In short: Elsa was exhausted. She deserved to be.
On the Sunday of Zachery’s second birthday, Elsa awoke gently, like a flower unfurling itself to the springtime summer. She rolled over to burrow her face into Bruce’s chest, which was covered with coarse hairs. She adored the way he smelled and could have burrowed herself in his warm embrace for the rest of time.
“What time is it?” she breathed.
“Ugh. I don’t know. I think I drank one too many Bud Lights, just like Francine said,” Bruce groaned.
Elsa giggled and stretched her arms over her head. Her elbows creaked. “Gosh, my bones sound old.”
“Your bones are just experienced,” Bruce teased, his eyes still closed. “Complaining about all they’ve seen, like old men.”
“You’re not helping, even though you think you are.” Elsa lifted herself and glanced at the red blare of the alarm clock. “Oh! Nine-forty-five?”
She leaped from bed, suddenly panicked. Zachery usually never slept past seven-thirty or eight. She’d left the door open between Bruce’s bedroom and the living room, where Zachery’s crib sat. She would have heard him if he’d cried.
But when she stepped through the door, she found a very cheerful toddler standing up in his crib, his eyes blinking out through the brightness of the morning and a giggle already bubbling on his lips.
“There he is. The birthday boy’s awake,” she called before stepping up and lifting him into the air. His legs kicked around, still plump and pink. When he’d been born, Aiden hadn’t had much time left on the earth. It was strange to think that they’d shared time on the earth at all.
How things had changed.
Bruce appeared in the bedroom doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he greeted Zachery good morning. When he disappeared into the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, Elsa changed Zach’s diaper, scrubbed her hands and her face, then sat at the kitchen table, gazing out at the lush green grass that swept across Bruce’s backyard. Zachery tried to drag the cup of coffee off the table, but Elsa grabbed it in the nick of time and positioned it in the center, a safer location.
“He’s stronger than any of us know,” Bruce joked.
Neither Bruce nor Elsa had bothered with their phones all morning long. When Elsa finally considered hers, it was already ten-ten.Probably, my kids aren’t even awake yet. It’s a Sunday, after all.
But when she lifted her phone from its charger, she discovered a very strange sight.
Nancy had called her fifteen times, all between the hours of seven and ten that morning.
Elsa flashed the screen toward Bruce, her heart pumping. “What do you think this means?”
Bruce’s eyes widened. “Call her.”
Elsa placed Zachery in his playpen and dialed Nancy, cradling her body with her free arm. It rang several times before Nancy answered, her words blubbering and chaotic.
“ELSA! ELSA! YOU WON’T BELIEVE THIS.”
Elsa’s heart seized. For a long moment, she struggled to breathe. “What are you talking about? Nancy?”
“ELSA,” Nancy half-moaned, half-screamed into the phone. After that, she hung up.
“Oh my God.” Elsa had begun to shake. “Bruce, we have to go. Please. Drive me home.”
Within the next three minutes, Bruce and Elsa dressed in a flash, shoved shoes on their feet, lifted Zachery from his carrier, and appeared on either side of Bruce’s car. Elsa commanded herself to “breathe as best as she could” through stuttered sobs. She hadn’t heard from Nancy again, but, en route to the Remington House, she called her twelve times, all without answer.
Who died? Who died? Who died?The thought rang through her mind, bouncing from one side of her skull to the other like a ping pong ball. She couldn’t take this, not again. She’d already lost Aiden. She’d already lost her father.
Three cop cars sat in the driveway of the Remington House. Nancy and Alyssa stood outside, Alyssa with Lucy in her arms. Carmella was there, too, blotchy-eyed and casting angry looks at everyone, as was her way.
“No ambulances,” Bruce reported. “And everyone seems accounted for?”
But Elsa wasn’t going to let her guard down. As soon as Bruce was almost stopped, she leaped from the vehicle. Bruce hollered, “Elsa! What the heck,” but she couldn’t help herself, not then. She’d been an idiot for sleeping in, for not looking at her phone.What had she been thinking?Her family needed her.