Chapter 6 #2
We played with the stuffed animals until they tired of them, and we moved on to a complicated board game, which I was pretty sure they were making up new rules for on every turn.
But it passed the time, and soon I needed to excuse myself to the bathroom.
The organic apple juice had run straight through me.
Or maybe it was the three cups of coffee I’d had.
“Be right back,” I told them and climbed from sitting cross-legged on the floor. I hoped leaving two small children to play while I went for a bathroom break was permitted, but I figured I would find out if I came back and someone’s hair was on fire.
I tried to remember the floorplan Melanie had rattled off and backtracked to a bathroom down the hall. On the way there, I stopped at the sound of voices.
“Scott, we can’t take a trip to Tahoe that weekend, I’m busy. And is there even any snow left? It’s almost May.” Melanie’s voice carried out from a doorway with an annoyed pinch. It must have been coming from Scott’s office.
I sealed myself to the hallway wall next to a large oil painting, which could have either been priceless or original Browning children art, I couldn’t tell. The white canvas was splashed with hues of green and blue in messy streaks.
“Thanks to a couple of late-season storms, there is snow left, so the timing is perfect,” Scott said.
“Come on, you could use a break. Let’s get away for the weekend.
” His voice turned syrupy and warm, and the sucking sound of lips meeting skin popped out from the doorway.
Perhaps he’d kissed her neck or her cheek.
“I told you, I can’t that weekend. I’m busy.
And besides, a ski getaway for me is nothing like a ski getaway for you.
You go running off on the mountain all day, and I’m left stuffing the kids into snowsuits and getting them in ski school, and there is sunscreen and snacks and ten meltdowns because they are cold and wet. ”
The muffled sound of Scott chuckling echoed out from the room, followed by more sounds of kissing. “Isn’t that what what’s-her-name is for? The new nanny? Just bring her and make her do it.”
There was a thunk like something got knocked over atop a desk, then the sound of papers scattering. I couldn’t see, but I imagined him leaning her back onto his desk, kissing her neck.
“Her name is Lauren, and the point still stands I can’t go that weekend. I’m busy. You should go by yourself. You could use a getaway too.”
“Busy doing what?”
“I have plans. With the girls.”
At this, the sounds of kissing and mussing of desktop items stopped. Scott sighed, but a hint of levity hid in it.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were having an affair.
All these busy weekends, late nights, mysterious last-minute out-of-town errands.
The way you sometimes come home smelling like a body shop.
And always with the girls. What are you up to, Mrs. Browning?
” The playful purr found its way back into his voice, and the kissing sounds resumed.
They carried on for several seconds, long enough to sound like she was kissing him back and make me consider ending my eavesdropping before I overheard something I wouldn’t be able to forget.
Smelling like a body shop. The phrase clung to the web of my mind. Bray had said he hadn’t been able to figure out where they were hiding their goods. Maybe it was someplace less obvious than a warehouse. Maybe it was a business fronting as something else.
“Scott, I have to go soon. We’re going to the park,” Melanie said. Her voice was hot and breathy, and she didn’t exactly sound like she wanted to leave.
“Mmm, five more minutes,” he hummed as she softly moaned.
They continued kissing, and I wondered how far things would escalate with the door open and their children right down the hall. But in their defense, they believed their nanny had the kids occupied.
“Three minutes, if you agree to take that trip by yourself,” Melanie said over the sound of a zipper.
“Oh my God,” I managed to whisper and threw a hand over my mouth. My whole body flushed with embarrassment.
“Deal,” Scott said, and I couldn’t take anymore.
I beelined for the bathroom and shook the image of Melanie sinking to her knees, because I knew without a doubt that was what was happening inside the office.
I shut the door as quietly as I could and turned on the sink to drown out any sounds that might carry down the hall.
This guest bathroom was painted a deep shade of navy blue with white accents.
Towels, orchids, a tile shower stall, and fluffy rugs.
My hands were shaking as I pulled out my phone to text Bray.
A body shop might be a front for their operation. Also, pretty sure Melanie uses sex to control her husband.
My heart was still pounding when I set my phone on the sink.
I somehow managed to pee while doing my best not to imagine what was going on a few yards away.
When I finished washing my hands, my phone buzzed on the glossy white countertop.
My screen showed Bray was calling rather than texting me back.
I declined the call and wrote him another message.
Can’t talk. Hiding in bathroom.
I need to talk to you.
Later. We’re going to the park soon.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and figured I had better get back to the kids before one of them went wandering and walked in on something that would scar them for life.
When I stepped into the hall, Scott was exiting his office.
Even if I hadn’t overheard what they’d been up to, the flush in his cheeks and pleasantly dazed look on his face were telling enough.
He was too sated to notice me standing there and instead adjusted his pants and walked off in the other direction.
“Gross,” I whispered and headed down the hall back toward the playroom. I had to pass the office to do so and stopped once again at the sound of Melanie’s voice quietly tinkling out.
“Hey. We’re good for the weekend after next. Scott is going to be out of town.”
I strained to make out any clue as to who she was talking to, though I had a good idea.
“Don’t worry about it. I convinced him,” she continued. Another pause passed while she listened. “How do you think? The most surefire way to convince a man to do anything.”
I silently confirmed my suspicion as to how Melanie wielded control over her husband.
“Yeah, well, three minutes on my knees is well worth fifty thousand in profits.”
I managed to throw my hand over my mouth before I gasped. I fully expected Bray to have been mistaken about the whole situation, but here I was overhearing proof he wasn’t.
Melanie clucked her tongue, suddenly sounding annoyed. “I know it’s not enough, but what else are we supposed to do? It’s been three weeks already. If Scott finds out I put a lien on the house, there’s no amount of time on my knees or in any other position that could fix it.”
Thankfully, my hand was still over my mouth because I gasped again.
A lien on the house? I took quick inventory of my surroundings—the polished floors, the high ceilings, the fact this house had four bedrooms and two offices and a guesthouse—and estimated in this part of California, it would go for at least four million.
If Melanie put a lien on something as valuable as her house, that meant she was desperate. Really, really desperate.
I whipped out my phone again to text Bray.
I think our girls are in some bad debt.
Melanie sighed, and I shoved my phone back in my pocket.
“I’ll see you at the park in fifteen or so,” she said.
“I’ve got to help the new nanny wrangle the kids.
” I gathered she was talking to either Sandra or Jana, but I didn’t stick around to find out since she was going to come looking for me any second.
The Del Rio neighborhood park was something to behold. A rolling green lawn, pristine playground equipment, sparkling drinking fountains, a cluster of picnic tables without a spec of graffiti on them, and public bathrooms I was pretty sure had floors clean enough to sleep on.
And it wasn’t only the amenities. The people occupying the park on a sunny Saturday morning were even more impressive.
The moms and dads, and a few nannies I presumed, basked in the morning glow and their children’s laughter like a commercial for parenthood.
They made it look like an elite club of smiles and unbridled joy that wasn’t just hours of screaming and sticky hands.
I wondered if it was in fact some kind of performative exhibition.
Showing off their mastery of childrearing to the other locals like it was a competition.
Who could make it look easiest? I noted how happy everyone appeared: the moms laughing together in little groups, the dads pushing strollers in T-shirts and baseball caps—a sight that stirred something primitive inside me I did not know existed.
Back at the house, Melanie had led me to the garage and instructed me to load a large wagon with toys and snacks and a picnic blanket—truly, enough to survive in the wilderness for days.
I’d towed it three blocks to the community park while she walked in front of me, her children’s hands in each of hers, and now, we were setting up camp on a shady lawn along with Sandra and Jana and their respective broods.