First Impressions Read online

  Eden had kept a sympathetic face, but it hadn’t been easy. Part of her wanted to defend herself and point out that she had done the best she could. And, of course, she’d very much wanted to tell Melissa that she had no idea what a “bad childhood” was really like. Eden also wanted credit for all the Saturdays that she’d arranged all-day playdates for her daughter. And what about all the nights she’d stayed up after midnight cooking meals for the week so her daughter could live on something besides those hideous “chicken nuggets” that other children ate? Melissa was three before she’d ever eaten a french fry. Et cetera. There were thousands of good things that Melissa seemed to have forgotten.

  But Eden knew that to defend herself would only anger Melissa more, and what good would that do? Right now her daughter was scared out of her mind about having a baby, and she was afraid that her husband was never going to come after her. Maybe Melissa’s leaving of Stuart had been her daughter’s last shot at being a romantic heroine. Maybe she’d wanted to run away and have the hero come after her. But, so far, it hadn’t worked. No hero on a white horse—or in a silver Audi, for that matter—had shown up. Nor had he called.

  With every minute that passed, Melissa grew more agitated and more determined to make herself believe that what she’d done was the right thing. She was fighting for her baby, wasn’t she? She was trying to give him the best there was, wasn’t she? She didn’t want her child to grow up feeling alone, as his mother had, did she?

  It was close to impossible for Eden to listen to what her daughter was saying without defending herself, but she did it. Every time she felt the blood shooting up the back of her neck, she’d look at Melissa’s big belly and think how her daughter was going to learn. Melissa had all kinds of stories about bad mothers. She talked of seeing women in stores as they bawled out their children. “If those women would just take the time to reason with their children,” Melissa said. “If they’d just listen to them.” The hint was that Eden had never listened or reasoned with her daughter, but in spite of that, Melissa was going to give her child what he needed.

  Eden turned away to hide her smile. She wanted to say, Wait until the kid says, “I’m not going to do that and you can’t make me!” and wait until every secret you have is blabbed to the world. Eden would never forget one Sunday at church when the pastor asked the congregation if there was anyone who needed their prayers. Melissa, only three, said loud and clear that her mother needed prayers because she’d been raped. The child had no idea what “raped” meant, but she’d listened to the people who had whispered when they thought she couldn’t hear them. All Melissa knew was that a bad thing had happened to her mother and she wanted God to help.

  Just you wait, Eden thought. It was terrible to want to get back at her own daughter, but that’s how she felt with every complaint that Melissa made.

  Late that evening, Eden put in her first call to Stuart. Maybe she could patch up the problems between them. She didn’t know how she was going to do it, and she greatly regretted every bad thought she’d ever had about her son-in-law, but she was going to try. If she had to grovel, she would. She’d apologize to Stuart, tell him she’d misjudged him, and say that she thought he was the finest son-in-law a woman could have.

  But Stuart didn’t call her back. Nor did he answer the next four calls that Eden made. She called him again at six the next morning, but there was no answer. It wasn’t until later in the day that she thought of calling the superintendent of her building. By then Melissa’s tears and complaints had so worn Eden down that she would have paid Stuart to come and get his wife. How about if I give you a fake sapphire necklace? she thought of saying to him. How about if I sign the apartment lease over to you? What if I pay the rent?

  But Stuart didn’t answer her calls, and when the super called back, he said that the doorman had helped Stuart into a taxi two days before and he’d had two big suitcases with him. Eden put down the phone and went to her daughter. Melissa was in McBride’s bed—no, she was in Eden’s guest room—and she was eating chocolate-covered marshmallows. Little brown papers littered the floor like dirty snowflakes.

  “Was Stuart home when you left?”

  Melissa looked up, surprised. “No. He’d just left for a trip to L.A.”

  “How long was he supposed to be gone?” Eden asked, keeping her anger under firm control.

  “A week.”

  Eden blinked at her daughter. “Are you telling me that Stuart may not even know that you’ve left him?”

  Melissa tried to roll over on her side, but her big belly kept her on her back. “Mother, haven’t you been listening to me? I didn’t leave Stuart, per se. I left an impossible situation. But of course he knows I’m not there. He always calls me from whatever hotel he’s in, so when I don’t answer the phone he’ll know that I’ve left him. Or left that place, that is. You know something, Mother? I really like it here in Arundel. The fresh air. The land. The water. I like this big old house. I think Stuart and I should move in here with you. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? You’d be around your grandchild every day. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  Eden didn’t say a word—she might start screaming and never stop. Silently, she closed the door, then called Stuart yet again. Didn’t he pick up his messages? No, of course not. He thought he had a wife at home who would be answering the phone. But wait! What if Melissa had gone into labor? Surely Stuart had left a number where he could be reached.

  Eden started to go back to Melissa’s room to ask, but stopped. She very well knew that her daughter would never give her the phone number. Eden was so desperate that she felt no guilt when she made a thorough search of Melissa’s handbag, but she found nothing.

  Eden went to the kitchen, poured herself a big glass of wine, then took it and the bottle outside. It was still cool, and she shivered. How things in life could change in an instant, she thought. A few weeks ago she was living with her daughter and loving where she was. If it hadn’t been for her son-in-law, she would have been quite happy. She was now ashamed of the thought, but if she’d been told that Stuart had been run over by a train, she would have been secretly glad. She would have had her daughter and her grandchild to herself.

  But for the last few weeks she’d led a very different life, one that consisted of grown-up things, like…Well, like rolling in the mud with a man. Working on an interesting project with two men. She thought of the night she and Brad and McBride—Jared—had found the necklace. It had been exciting and scary at the same time. And she’d done it with two men. Two of them! Handsome men looking at her as though she was what they wanted most in life. Ah, yes. Exciting and scary at the same time.

  But here she was now alone. Sitting in the garden alone, sipping wine alone. In the moonlight she could see her cute little red truck. The back of it had half a dozen brand-new tools in it. Was it true that it was easier to dig with a stainless steel shovel than one that was rusty and pitted? She’d sure like to find out. Near the truck, on the little bricked area by the potting shed, were nearly three hundred plants waiting, crying out, to be put into the soil. The perennials and annuals were in four-inch pots, the bulbs in bags, and she and Jared had put the bareroot trees in buckets of water to hold them until they could be planted. That should have been today, Eden thought, but she hadn’t been able to get outside to do it.

  She drank the rest of the wine and poured another glassful. Was she now going to get drunk alone? “Pathetic Palmer,” she muttered.

  She knew she had to make a plan. What if Stuart was hearing her messages and not responding because he didn’t want to get back together with Melissa? If that was so, then Eden knew that she’d soon become grandmother-in-residence. When she thought of diapers and toilet-training and baby food, she took another deep drink of wine and wished she’d brought her cell phone outside with her so she could call Stuart again. Would it be too, too difficult to call every hotel in Los Angeles and ask if he was there?

  Plan, she thought. She had to make a pl