Chapter 7
mornings were the worst . When Alice opened her eyes, her bedroom was still in shadow, the blinds straight and closed against the springtime light.
A few days ago, Alice had woken up, just like this, and the blinds were no longer stuck half open, and the chain was untangled and shiny, dustless.
Today, as she sat up in bed, she didn’t remember that exact moment, but then there was so much she had been forgetting.
In the living room, she saw fresh vacuum tracks on the rug.
In the bathroom, all the toothbrushes were organized in the ceramic cup, the extra rolls of toilet paper stacked in a pyramid in the corner.
In the hall, the mirror was hung solidly on a stud.
When she paused, she thought she could see new cracks behind the glass, as if someone had been dragging a fingernail across the thin silver layer, picking away at what was hidden behind, so the damage could be seen on the surface.
If she walked by fast enough, she wouldn’t see her own reflection, wouldn’t see the prettier, sleeker version of herself that had been flickering in windows and mirrors lately, momentary flashes of a self she wished she was.
Alice rushed past, and the mirror did not sway.
As she sipped her coffee, she sat at the kitchen table with Luna and Luca, who were calmly eating muffins that had been waiting for them on a plate when they woke up.
“Did you make any headway with your drawing yesterday?” Alice asked, as if everything was fine.
Luna nodded and swallowed before speaking. “I think so. I think I nailed a new character. Now I just have to see how she looks if I draw her digitally.” Luna wasn’t meeting her gaze and sat hunched over her plate. Maybe she was sorry after all.
“Perfect. You can show me when you’re done.”
Luca tapped his mother on the arm. “I’m going to work on the science fair project today.
Mr. Gill let me bring home the cameras for spring break.
” For weeks, Luca had been designing his home security system, and this step—testing the cameras and connecting them to an app he had coded—was the last thing he needed to complete before mapping the house and installation.
“I think they’ll be fine, but I’m worried about the motion sensors.
They might be too sensitive. A cat could trigger them the way they are now. ”
Alice laughed and said, “You mean a cat burglar?”
“Mom! That’s a dad joke!”
As they ate, Pinky appeared at the back door, waving. “I accidentally picked up some of your mail,” she said as she handed over three envelopes. “Good morning, kids. Luna, your lip gloss is perfect!” Luca got up and hugged Pinky, his arms around her waist.
Alice poured herself another coffee. “Do you want a coffee, Pinky?”
Pinky shook her head and smoothed down an errant piece of Luca’s hair. “No thanks, I have a bus to catch.” She looked around the kitchen, at the shining counters and neatly folded dish towels. “Look at this place! Alice, are you cleaning in your sleep now?”
Alice looked down at her leggings and saw a tiny hole over her right knee and a bleach stain on the big toe of her sock. Of course, it was her. Of course, she was the one doing all the work, as usual.
After Pinky left for work, Alice watched the kids clear the plates together, Luca handing his sister the dishes as she stacked the washer.
It had never disappeared, that feeling that her heart was being pulled out of her chest when she watched her children from a distance, as if they were pulling her heart on a string that stretched between them.
Alice closed her eyes and revelled in that feeling.
It was love, she knew, and she wanted to keep it close and safe for as long as possible.
A week ago, as her children left for school, she could only feel anxiety about the tasks left undone, resenting the way her life was scheduled hour by hour, the dust that blanketed every visible surface in accusation, how the amaretto she was pouring into her morning coffee was the only thing that kept her going.
It was spring break now, though, and for the first time in a long time, she could feel space and time expand around her, the tasks in her day no longer a chaotic, suffocating avalanche but unfolding before her in steps that she knew were easily completed.
She had hours, not minutes or seconds. The love for her children coursed through her veins so effortlessly, like blood.
But then as both of them walked down the hall, away from her, a new worry began to grow in the back of her brain.
If she couldn’t remember cleaning in the middle of the night in a drunken haze, that meant that she was blacking out, that whole swaths of her life were being lost to cheap late-night wine.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had forgotten periods of her life before, that this was a familiar dread she was feeling.
Her head pounded, from alcohol or ammonia or both.
Her children’s clothes were clean and wrinkle-free.
The cuffs on Luca’s pants were not simply rolled up, but hemmed.
The orange juice Luna had been drinking was freshly squeezed in a pitcher in the fridge.
Their backpacks were hanging on the hooks beside the front door, wiped clean of their old lunch smells.
Alice tried to congratulate herself, but she leaned on the counter instead, both hands gripping the edge.
She closed her eyes and sifted through her memories, one by one, circling back over every single moment from the night before.
Dinner, after-dinner sherry, yelling at the kids to shower, another drink, a late-night talk show, sleep. Repeat. There was nothing else.
that afternoon, as alice stood in the basement, counting inventory, her phone rang in her back pocket.
When she looked at the screen, the call display showed a 310 area code.
American orders were placed all the time, even though Alice knew there were plenty of US diaper retailers.
None were as cute as her pink-striped online shop, though, with its animated stork and diaper GIFs and chubby baby models.
“Americans don’t know we’re a separate country anyway,” she said to herself as she swiped to accept the call.
“The Cozy Diaper Company, Alice speaking.” The phone was tucked between her jaw and shoulder as she folded brown packing paper for reuse. “How can I help you?”
“Hello, my name is Maegan, and I’m calling from the Good You.”
Alice stood up straight and her phone fell onto the utility table, clattering against the stainless steel surface. “Shit,” she exclaimed. “Sorry, I just dropped my phone. Did you say the Good You? As in the lifestyle brand owned by Bronwyn Novak? The movie star?”
Maegan sighed before speaking again in her flat Californian accent. “Yes, that Bronwyn. This is the cloth diaper place, right?”
“Yes, yes. The Cozy Diaper Company. What can I do for you?”
“We’re doing a feature on clean parenting products, and obviously your business came up in our research. Could you send us a package of your best products? Our team will have a look and then follow up with an interview request if we like what you have.”
Alice worried her legs might buckle so she leaned on the metal shelving for support. “Are you saying Bronwyn will look at my diapers?”
Maegan laughed, but it was the kind of laugh that sounded rehearsed. Instantly Alice knew that other people had said this exact same thing before, and her face burned hot. So basic, like Luna said.
“Probably not Bronwyn, but she does look at a lot of our samples. She is pretty hands-on, not that I can promise you anything.”
“Of course, of course. I should have known that.”
“Do you have a pen? I can give you the shipping address right now.”
Alice hurriedly wrote down the address on a piece of packing paper she ripped from her pile.
When she had hung up, she stared at the number and street name.
It was all she had ever wished for her business: to be noticed by someone with as much reach and influence as Bronwyn.
This could take everything to the next level.
Maybe she could hire staff, take a vacation, lease a warehouse.
Maybe someone else could do the work while she made the decisions.
Alice could lie on a beach, Jas beside her, their bodies slick with sweat from the humid tropical air.
The children could be on an excursion, or supervised by a lifeguard, or watching a movie in an air-conditioned theatre, she didn’t care.
Alice could roll over and run her hands over Jas’s torso, feel his breath expand and contract under her fingers.
He would ask nothing of her and she wouldn’t expect anything, just a never-ending present moment where there were no decisions, no memories, no guilt.
The money would make it all easier, so much easier to pretend that she wasn’t hurting him.
The money meant an endless series of pina coladas and a sun that burned away all the stupid shit.
She shook her head and stared at her stock.
She had so much to do, and it was better to bury that fantasy and focus on the next step, making sure not to skip any small detail that could create a crack that would grow and grow until she lost everything.
There was a nice raffia basket she had been saving in the corner.
She picked up her favourite luxury diaper, made of bamboo, and its matching wool cover and tucked one under the other so they formed a little primary-coloured loaf.
Bronwyn will love this , she thought. And one day I won’t have to work anymore.
Alice was so busy she didn’t hear the rustle as a corner of the basement stirred in discontent. Alice didn’t hear it, but that didn’t mean it never existed.