Chapter 5
There were three things bothering Danika that last Sunday in June. First, she did not want to attend mass (as usual). Second,
she did not want to host a Fourth of July party at their cabin. And third, she did not want to talk to Chat about flirting
with that Club waitress. Each sent a corkscrew of anger through her.
Church was always a pain point. The first time Danika and Bill slept together, his gold cross kept hitting her in the face,
falling into her mouth—but she’d held out hope he might be one of those devout Catholics who never actually went to mass.
This wasn’t the case. Still, it felt like a small price to pay for the life she now had with him.
So that Sunday, as always, Danika sat stoically in the pews of Lady of Our Lake. At least the church was beautiful. It smelled
like old books, held a claustrophobic yet serene quality, and you could glimpse the lake from each window. On a good day,
Danika could relax there—so long as she could tune out the words of Father Michael and the boys refrained from kicking the
pews.
Truthfully, she didn’t like forcing mass on her children.
Once, early on, she suggested they let them choose their own religion, but Bill had grown defensive as if they’d surely go straight to hell.
It wasn’t worth the fight. Secretly, she tried to remind Cooper that God was more synonymous with love than anything.
It’d been unsettling when he started going to Sunday school and began talking to God as if he were an invisible friend.
He’d go around the house saying, “Hi, God!” or “Good morning, God!” or “Did you hear that, God?” It both entertained and terrified her.
Danika stared at the lake as they drove home along Highway 15, tracing the line where the water kissed the sky. She had hoped
to feel more relaxed once church was over, but the next item on her list weighed heavier: the fucking Fourth of July.
They had never hosted the Fourth before. They rarely hosted in general—and Danika had been aghast when, as they sat at the
dinner table the night before, Bill mentioned it so casually, you’d think he was asking her a simple favor, to pick up more
milk or his suit from the tailor’s.
Danika was already exhausted and upset from the swim meet, and this was the last thing she needed. She had glared at him as
she slowly stopped chewing her arugula salad.
“Excuse me?” she’d said. “What?”
The boys were already in bed, but Chat was sitting between them.
“The Fourth,” Bill repeated. “I invited the shareholders, their families. I think it’d be a good idea to spend some time together.
Briar Ridge is a big project, and we have some votes coming up, and I want to make sure we’re all on the same page. Call it
team bonding, if you will.” He forced a laugh and cut a bite of steak, his knife scratching through the silence.
Danika took another small, tense bite of salad, remaining poised despite the frustration growing inside her. She could not
imagine hosting the Greenes and the Harrisons and that imbecile Joshua Mike. What the fuck, Bill? This was out of character, even for him. He didn’t like any of those people personally. He liked the escape to their cabin as much as she did.
“Because what, they’d stay with us all week? The Fourth is on a Monday.”
“Never, of course not. No. One night. A party.” He raised his wine and studied her through the glass. “I’m going to invite
the Fravels, too.”
“Sounds fun,” Chat said, fireworks practically bursting behind his eyes. “I can’t wait to see the cabin. We have to bring
badminton, like you said.” He pointed his fork to Danika.
Danika’s frustration grew to fury. Even if she did like Holly and Frank Fravel—they’d been to the cabin once, years ago—she
barely liked throwing a dinner, let alone a holiday event. And the worst part, she realized as she ran her tongue along her
teeth: She was disappointed. She loved their cabin. It was sprawling, seated right on Gull Lake, with a huge grassy lawn that
dropped into a sand beach. She had so been looking forward to sharing it with Chat—to catching minnows off the dock with him
and the boys, roasting marshmallows, playing badminton. Now, that relaxation had been plucked away. She imagined Joshua Mike
sitting in one of their Adirondack chairs, staring at her ass as she waded into the water.
Nonetheless, Danika didn’t want to make a scene in front of Chat, so she switched the subject curtly. She’d talk to Bill later.
She asked for more wine.
She didn’t have any luck later, though. Not that night, nor that morning as they got ready for church and she pleaded with
him to be reasonable.
“I already talked to Zami,” Bill had repeated, matter-of-factly. “He’s game. He has a whole menu set. Everyone’s excited except
you. It’ll be fun.”
Now, on the car ride home from mass, Danika still felt shocked.
But as she leaned her head against the car window, she knew she had to accept it.
Fine, she finally decided. If he wants a party, we’ll throw the best freaking party he’s ever seen, and he’ll owe me.
It always felt better to frame things as a challenge.
She had a week to prepare. And thank god for Zami. Danika had never
been a cook.
Regardless of her new mindset, her disdain for Bill remained. That was one of the strangest things about marriage: how you
could love and hate someone simultaneously. It wasn’t a new concept, she knew. Yet, like most clichés, once you actually experienced
them, they still felt singular—stunning.
At least Chat would be there. Sweet Chat. He’d love the cabin. She’d grown obsessed with sharing these luxuries with him,
seeing his enjoyment. It was as if by impressing him, Danika was impressing herself—viewing everything anew. She basked in
the way he lit up when she told him to order the forty-dollar steak. To take the Range Rover anywhere he pleased. It made
Danika appreciate her life more; it made her appreciate herself more. But here was the next item on her list: She needed to remind him of the rules. She needed to remind him that his focus,
especially at the Club, belonged only to the boys.
It hadn’t been a huge deal, Chat’s swim meet tête-à-tête. Not on paper. Danika couldn’t deny her mounting fear, though: If
Chat proved to be an inept, distracted nanny, she’d be mortified. On top of everything, he’d no longer be her comeback. She
hated to think how satisfied the other mothers would be by her failure. They’d all been keeping a close watch.
Danika also hated to imagine Chat getting close to someone else in Aldon Lakes, sharing details about her, their life.
She had warned him about members prying for gossip, and he had seemed to understand.
“Don’t worry,” he’d said. “I’ll steer clear of the housewives of Aldon Lakes.
” She hadn’t thought to warn him about the staff.
But she didn’t want Chat to get sucked into anyone’s orbit.
She couldn’t risk him sharing something that would embarrass her—or accidentally reveal something they had in common.
It was hard to explain the relief she’d felt when she first confirmed Chat did not know who she was. It was hard to explain
how quickly that relief had flipped to excitement, too, something all-encompassing and cosmic, like a wish come true.
After the initial shock of his application had worn off, she’d studied his profile for hours. She’d memorized everything he
wrote about his hobbies (hockey, live music, road trips, ice fishing), his education (St. Cloud State), and his experience
with kids (he helped raise his younger twin sisters), searching for clues, but eventually, she knew she simply had to talk
to him.
She had to know.
She scheduled a phone interview and, through a fit of panic, asked if his family was supportive of his “nanny goals”—if they
were okay with him heading to Aldon Lakes, of all places. He’d barely reacted, explaining how his parents were so busy with
his sisters heading to college, they were just happy for him to be busy, out of the house. To make some money before he went
to Europe that fall.
“That’s my goal,” he’d continued. “I’m trying to get to Germany by the end of August. I’m going to travel for a year, see
the world. As cheesy as that sounds.”
Danika had swallowed into the phone, the mention of Europe igniting a supercut of memories—that parallel life.
“My buddy was a manny last summer,” Chat explained, “and he said it was a great way to make cash, way better than mowing lawns—I usually work landscaping. I really do love kids, too. Sometimes I think I like them more than adults.” He laughed, and his laugh, along with his answers, had seemed so genuine, Chat seemed more real than anyone she’d met in years.
And best of all, to him, Danika was a stranger.
Yes, this was the main reason she needed to scold Chat: She could not have him faltering at the Club, breaking the contract.
She didn’t let herself admit that the moment at the pool had additionally thrown her because instantly, she’d felt a flash
of jealousy. She’d killed that thought immediately.
Maybe she could talk to him on the drive up to the cabin, she thought as they returned home, pulling into the garage.
Yes. She sighed as she unbuckled, relieved to have yet another plan.
That could work. Bill was heading up the night before, so it would only be her, Chat, and the boys in the car. She didn’t want Chat to feel
too bad. Only a little bad. To be warned. That girl, she wasn’t worth it. Danika needed him to do his job. She needed him.