Chapter 47
I FOLLOW AMBER INTO her bedroom.
“Hold her,” she says and hands Lily to me. She pulls a suitcase from her closet shelf and begins wildly grabbing pants from hangers, sandals from the shoe tree. Then she opens a dresser drawer and tosses a handful of lingerie on the bed.
“Where will you go?” I ask.
“My sister’s,” she says. “It’ll be Lily’s first train ride.”
Now what? I think of all the arrangements Metcalf made for this assignment: my new identity, new driver’s license, new look, new everything. Does this mean the end of my job? If the baby isn’t here, is there any reason for me to stay?
Amber rolls the suitcase into the nursery, and I follow her. I put Lily in her crib with several toys and rattles. Bless her heart, she’s happy to amuse herself while I help Amber pack.
“How long will you be away?” I ask.
“No idea,” she says as we gather up a tumble of onesies, bibs, sleep sacks, baby wipes, and all-natural diaper cream.
“So if you don’t need me… I guess I should return everything?” I ask. Amber looks confused. I get it. Was our happy shopping spree just this morning? It seems like a long time ago. “I mean the rug, the pillows—”
“Oh, but I do need you,” she says. “I need you here to look after the dogs.” Depending on how you look at it, I’ve been either promoted or demoted. I’m now the World’s Highest-Paid Dog Sitter.
“Plus Hailey. You’re the only one who can keep Hailey in line,” she adds.
“Don’t forget to take diapers,” I say.
“Thanks,” she says, tossing a bunch in. “Oh, and I’m leaving you my Lexus.
” Good idea. I know she’s been concerned with the state of mine.
It’s not just the ripped upholstery and the special hanging air freshener that makes the whole car smell like McDonald’s fries.
Amber never trusted my squeaky brakes. She’s right.
It’s like riding around with a fourth-grade violinist.
Amber throws all the clothes in the suitcase. I try to fold them neatly, but she tells me not to bother.
Then Ben appears at the door.
“Nice of you to stop by the nursery,” she tells him. “I didn’t think you knew where it was.”
“Can we talk?”
“Get away from me,” she says.
“But you don’t know why I’m—”
“I. Don’t. Care,” Amber says. She stares at Ben the way Superman stares when he’s about to melt steel.
If looks could kill, Ben would be bleeding out on Lily’s Sesame Street rug.
Like the good help I am, I keep my mouth shut, determined not to take sides.
But deep down I’m proud of her. She’s finally grown a pair.
Amber zips the suitcase shut. Ben goes to lift it for her.
“No!” she says. She pulls it out of his hands and rolls it over to me. Then she picks up Lily and we all head downstairs.
Ben follows us. “Where are you going?” he asks. She doesn’t answer. “At least let me drive you. Please?”
Amber heads into the kitchen and gathers up a bunch of bottles, nipples, formula, frozen breast milk, and sippy cups. Then she calls an Uber.
This whole time Ben has been standing behind her, watching her, pleading his case. “I don’t know who did this or why,” he says. “Amber, please believe me.”
Five minutes later, the Uber pulls up. The driver honks. I carry Amber’s suitcase out to the car, and before I realize I’m doing it, I lean over and kiss Lily goodbye. She giggles. I feel a small pang in my chest. Damn. I’m going to miss her.
And then, the worst possible thing happens. As Amber holds Lily, Lily reaches out to me with both arms and says, “Ca.”
Ca? CA! She’s trying to say my name!
Don’t leave! I want to say. But of course I don’t. I can’t. They’re doing the wisest thing. Lily looks like she’s about to cry. And I’m this close to tears myself.
Ben comes out, looking more hangdog than ever. After one last attempt to keep Amber home, he opens the Uber door for her. She looks at him with hate.
“In addition to all your other miserable qualities,” she says, “you’re a shitty liar.”