Chapter Thirty-One
Coming home to Lark and Landon was like a balm to Eve’s soul.
They’d heard snippets of adult conversations and clips of the news surrounding Eve and Madden, but they were more interested
in convincing their aunt to take them to McDonald’s for dinner. Some very welcome normalcy.
“Please, Aunt Eve. Please,” Lark pleaded.
Landon clasped his grubby hands together. “Please. I have a loose tooth!”
Eve reared back. “And chicken nuggets are good for loose teeth?”
“Yes,” Landon said, solemnly, his chef’s hat sitting askew on his head. “Toys are good for them too.”
“Oh, really? I’ve never heard that.” Eve laughed, though she could hear the strain in her own voice. “Guess we better get
some extra.”
They ran full speed into Eve, wrapping their arms around her legs and squeezing. Normally, she was a hair ruffler in these
types of situations, but she found herself kneeling down in front of the twins and opening her arms, the smell of dirt and
crayons going a long way to reassuring her that everything would be fine eventually. Maybe not today or next week, but no
matter what happened, these kids would still call her Aunt Eve and think she walked on water. God, that was comforting.
She rubbed circles into each of their backs, pressing her cheek to the top of Lark’s head. “Go stuff your things into your backpacks. Toothbrushes, especially. We should hit the road and let the Pages get back to their regularly scheduled program.”
“I won’t hear of it,” Vivica said from her spot in the kitchen. “Not until we know for sure those vultures aren’t lurking
outside your apartment.”
“Vultures?” Landon asked, wide-eyed.
Vivica winced. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Eve took Landon by the elbows and smiled. “It’s nothing to be scared of. People who work at the newspapers want
to ask me about Madden because he’s so famous. Did you see his big play?”
Landon beamed. “Yup!”
“I saw it too,” Lark piped up. “That other guy is a dick!”
“Whoa. Language.”
Lark pointed across the room to where Elton was pacing in front of the door for some odd reason. “Elton said so.”
The bad influence in question held up his hands. “Guilty.”
“Good lord, Elton,” Vivica chided. “She’s never going to leave these precious babies with us again.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” Eve teased, standing as the kids ran off to collect their things. Or play in mud, whichever
struck their fancy. Then in a more serious tone she asked, “How will we know if there are people outside my building?”
“Veda was supposed to swing by and check,” Elton said, his tone irritable. “But she fell asleep, and her phone is dead.”
“Ah. She must have been out last night.”
“Oh sure, just a little five a.m. outing. No big deal. No idea if she’s in a safe establishment. Or if there’s anyone making sure she gets home all right.” Elton waved his hands around. “Let’s all just fly by the seat of our pants here, shall we?”
“Are you okay?” Eve asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, I’m just peachy,” Elton said sourly, looking down at his phone, then at her, covertly enough that her instincts pinged.
That was Madden calling. The knowledge alone that her husband was on the other end of the call made her chest knit up like
a baseball glove. Where was he? What was he doing?
Was he still half stuck in the afterglow of last night and yearning to be back there, the way she was every time she closed
her eyes?
The proof of his touch lingered everywhere on her body, from the chafed patch on the curve of her neck, courtesy of his unshaven
face, to the soreness between her legs. His gruff midnight voice wouldn’t leave her ears, sneaking up on her in the middle
of lectures to herself. Self-admonishments for getting too cozy. For letting herself dream about a future for her and Madden.
For going to the hospital and acting like Madden’s wife in the first place when . . .
That’s what she wanted to be. Deep down.
Not even that deep down anymore, because she’d allowed hope to ransack her common sense. Now their night of playing house
only served as proof of how wonderful a life with Madden would be . . . if only she were a different person.
On the other side of the room, just outside the sliding glass door that led to the back deck, Veda appeared with a pinkie
wave and a yawn.
Eve hid the wave of gratitude for her new friend behind a smirk.
Leave it to Veda to show up at the back door instead of the front, wearing a blue mechanic’s jumpsuit and her hair tied up with a bright red bandanna.
Eve crossed to the back door, wordlessly letting in the younger woman.
They started to exchange greetings, but their attention was drawn to the television, where Sherry Shepherd was relaying yesterday’s
news to a studio audience. “And did you see that Yankees game yesterday?” A ripple of yeses went through the crowd. “Not the
baseball game. I’m talking about the game that happened afterward.” An image of Madden and Eve French-kissing among a plethora
of cameras popped up on the screen behind the host. “Because this Yankee has got game. Look at this man unafraid to kiss his woman in public. We’ve been sleeping on catchers, ladies—”
The television winked off, courtesy of Vivica. “Sorry about that,” she said with a wince.
“It’s fine,” Eve whispered. But it wasn’t. In fact, she felt dizzy. That was her picture. On national television. Who knew
what kind of details about her personal life were to follow? “I just need a minute.”
“Take your time,” Veda said, patting her arm. “I’ll go annoy Elton.”
“Good idea,” Eve managed, sitting down on the edge of the couch. She’d been driving for four hours in silence and obviously
the story had escalated during that time.
Don’t look at your phone.
Don’t do it.
Although forewarned meant being forearmed, right? Maybe she should do a quick Google search and find out what was being said.
Purely so she’d know in advance how badly this whole nightmare was going to reflect on Madden.
She pulled out her phone and deployed the search engine.
“Madden’s Madam: Catcher Kisses Nudie Club Cutie.”
This, from TMZ.
Nudie Club?
Madam?
Eve scrolled down some more and clicked on a Buzzfeed article titled “Why Is Everyone Suddenly Talking About the Yankees?
We Explain the Down Bad Madden Buzz.”
“Oh my god,” she whispered as picture after picture appeared on her screen. Not just of her at the game and hospital yesterday,
but pictures of the inside of the club, Eve posing with patrons. Where did Buzzfeed get them? They weren’t on the club website.
She read further.
Sources close to the couple say they’ve known each other since high school, but claim they’ve been on and off again, because
Donahue can’t come to terms with Keller owning a burlesque club where she is a regular performer. The club, which was an honest-to-goodness
strip club back in the day and a source of much vitriol in the town, was passed down from Keller’s father . . .
Eve’s stomach sank slowly to the floor.
Half this article wasn’t true at all. Were they just allowed to print lies?
She couldn’t even tell if this was a worse look for her or Madden.
A sudden hush in the house caused Eve to look around, finding Elton and Vivica staring out the window by the front door.
“Please don’t tell me there are reporters here,” she said, rising.
The moment Elton turned around and she saw his face, she knew it was something worse than the press, but she couldn’t imagine what. What could be worse than bringing this circus to another one of her loved ones’ doorsteps?
Please. I can’t take one more punch today.
“Eve.” Elton came forward with a line between his brows, unexpectedly taking her by the shoulders, alarming her even more.
“It’s going to be okay.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s your sister. Ruth is here.”
A full-body chill cascaded downward from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. Ruth was here. Ruth was here? What kind of condition was she in? Should she be around the kids? Why wasn’t Eve given any warning about her return?
Eve realized she’d frozen halfway between the living room and the front door, everyone in the room staring at her. Waiting
for a reaction.
Jesus. Pull yourself together.
“Okay,” she said, wetting her parched lips. “Okay, I’ll just . . . I’ll go outside and talk to her. Can you occupy the kids
while I figure out what’s happening?”
“I’m on it,” Veda said.
Even in the midst of her own turmoil, she didn’t miss the shadows in Elton’s eyes as they followed Veda’s retreating back
down the hallway. But she couldn’t worry about that now. For better or worse, she had a sister to reunite with.
When Eve walked out onto the Pages’ front porch, her knees had almost buckled from the relief of knowing her sister wasn’t only alive and well, but visibly healthy.
Hair in a ponytail, face free of the pinched misery that had been there the last time they were together.
This was the sister who lived in Eve’s memories as a preteen, before addiction sank its claws into Ruth.
Ruth Keller was direct, a little guarded, but a good, loyal person who’d gone through those early stages of life with the
same stigma as Eve. Instead of pushing everyone away and driving herself to prove something, the way Eve had, Ruth chose numbness.
And then the numbness became normal until it almost killed her.
This time, she’d chosen her kids. Eve couldn’t be prouder of the willpower that must have taken. Couldn’t be prouder they
shared that same stubbornness. After Ruth asked about the kids and Eve assured her sister they were happy, healthy, and full
of beans, they sat in silence for a full five minutes before Ruth began to talk.
“I went through with the six-week treatment program,” said her sister now, her voice clear. Confident. They sat side by side
on the front steps of the Page house, both of them looking at the ground, neither one of them comfortable with the multitude