Chapter 14
Danika was glad when Bill left town after the golf tournament. He had a business trip in Chicago Wednesday through Friday,
and he’d been tense lately. The house felt better without him. They didn’t even sit down for dinner. Rather, she and Chat
stood around the kitchen island next to the boys and picked at containers of olives and slices of Gruyère, or whatever casserole
Zami had left in the freezer. Danika always had an extra glass of wine, standing against the counter with one leg bent, pressed
to the other like a flamingo. Sometimes, at her encouragement, Chat had a beer.
Though this week, she would admit, they could have used Bill’s help. On top of regular activities, Cooper had three birthday
parties, each competing to be the best: One was a rave complete with a DJ; the next was ranch-themed, with an entire farm
of animals dumped on the front lawn; and the last was a monster tea party, featuring endless cookies and cakes. Danika already
feared what Cooper would expect for his sixth birthday come fall.
Danika felt bad watching Chat rush from one place to the next.
She thought about canceling plans to help, but she reminded herself that’s why they’d hired a nanny in the first place.
She had a job now—she had work to do. She was also glad to have an excuse to avoid the other parents.
It was a win-win. She’d even asked Chat to remind them she was busy working the Briar Ridge project. If it came up.
She knew she would come up. Word about the drama at the cabin had spread, and people were more intrigued than ever. A fire
was excellent gossip. Under normal circumstances, Danika would be horrified, but she was glad it overshadowed the other passive-aggressive
plays—the “Would You Rather” game and the crude remarks. Plus, the fire had been Bill’s fault, not hers. That was another
pillar of marriage, Danika reasoned later: a constant exchange of blame.
Once everyone had gone downstairs after the fire, Bill had asked to talk to her in the garage. He had been desperate, red-faced.
“Do you not understand,” he’d finally snapped, “that I invited them here for a reason? I need them to have a good time. Please,
Danika. I need you to get it together.” Still, Danika had been drunk and indignant. She slurred that he was the one who needed
to get it together, then left to go to the bathroom—and find Chat.
Now, Danika felt purely confused. It didn’t make sense why he needed those men in particular to have so much damn fun. It
felt off, like he was hiding something. For the first time, Danika wondered if Bill was having an affair. She’d be surprised—while
a flirt, he held himself to high moral (and religious) standards—but it’d be an explanation for his strange behavior.
Infidelity had always been a confusing topic for Danika. Her mother had been so proud she’d never cheated on her father while
he was deployed, unlike so many others. “Do you see those broomsticks on the porches with the lights on?” she’d explained
to Danika one evening as they drove around base at dusk. “That means they’re open for business. It’s an invitation.”
Danika sometimes wondered if her mother should have left her father.
Her parents had fought hard and often. Maybe a divorce would have made them all happier.
She’d said this to her mother once after a particularly bad fight, but she’d only scoffed, said, “And then what? What do you suppose I do?” Danika hadn’t known how to respond.
Her mother always said she’d drained her potential by marrying her father—that her ship had sailed as soon as she signed up for army life, became a dependent.
“Really, Danika, tell me. How do you suppose I start over?”
But she and Bill were different, Danika reminded herself. They hardly ever had blowout fights. They respected each other,
viewed each other as someone, or something, to be proud of. Their family was picture perfect; their life was a dream come
true.
No one had overheard them in the garage and she’d successfully hidden her other, deeper grievance of the night: how much she
despised Augie.
Danika had tried to broach the subject with Chat over the week. First, after the fireworks. She’d told herself to wait until
morning when she was sober and calm, but she couldn’t help it. As they helped the boys brush their teeth that evening, she’d
looked at him in the mirror and asked if he was friends with that waiter. Augie. He had looked away, said they’d talked at
the Club a few times, but he didn’t know her well, not really.
The next time, they were sitting on the dock, dangling their feet in the water, catching minnows with the boys, and she—after asking which days he planned to go to Hyla that week, claiming she wanted extra ajvar—mentioned it was nice Teuta and Zami worked so closely with the Club.
Then she asked if he ever saw any members, or staff, at the bakery.
He had once again averted his eyes. He said no, he never saw anyone he knew.
“But I don’t know anyone,” he’d added, laughing, before jumping in the water.
Danika wasn’t sure how to feel. He was clearly uncomfortable, but she truly did not think he would lie to her. They were too
close. He also hadn’t done anything wrong. Augie was the one chasing him around, up to the cabin. She was the problem.
The week had been so lovely, too. Danika didn’t want to ruin the memories of swimming and fishing and roasting marshmallows
by harping on her. She’d have to trust him, Danika reasoned. Trust him, and keep him busy.
That week, indeed, was busy. Danika spent hours finalizing her trade account before receiving her vendor ID—the golden ticket
to buying with a designer discount. It had been a long process; she’d had to issue her LLC, set up a separate business bank
account, provide proof of accreditation, and more. But here she was, finally a true professional. She couldn’t wait to start
buying for the model home. That was her plan for Saturday: Once Bill was back to take the boys, she’d head to Oval at the
Galleria. Hopefully with Chat.
Danika was aware that furniture shopping wasn’t everyone’s idea of fun, but she figured Chat would want to get out of the
house. While Chat was an extrovert—if she was going to indulge in Jackie’s little theories—he didn’t venture out often. She
had made it clear he was off duty once the boys were in bed, wanting to downplay how much she liked having him around, but
he rarely left. She got the feeling he didn’t like going out by himself, and he claimed he didn’t have any friends in the
Cities. This made her feel better about the Augie situation—and, even more, she basked in the idea that he might simply enjoy
her company. Once, they’d watched six reruns of Friends after the boys fell asleep. Another time, they’d killed hours on the deck of the Walleye, eating nachos, sipping Blue Moons.
“So what exactly makes it a Galleria and not just a mall?” Chat said. They stood in the cedar mudroom, putting on their shoes.
“You sure you don’t want to go to the Mall of America? Ride the roller coasters?”
Danika laughed and slipped one arm into her Sandro sweater. There was nowhere grosser than the Mall of America.
“Well, the stores are nicer. More artistic. So, it’s more of a gallery than your average JCPenney. No roller coasters.”
“Am I underdressed?” Chat wore a green Wild T-shirt and his standard gym shorts.
“You’re fine,” Danika assured him, although he was.
Beyond them, from the living room, they heard Max begin to cry, Bill begin to groan. They rushed to the car.
If it was possible, Bill was even more on edge since he had gotten home from his business trip. Danika had tried to ask him
what was wrong, but he brushed her off, poured another drink. She knew for certain Bill was hiding something now, and she
had a growing sense it was something wrong with work. But if Bill wasn’t ready to share, it was pointless to force him. She
had to wait—and double down on her job. Making Briar Ridge a success could only help.
“The design store can be a little over the top,” Danika explained as they parked at the Galleria, “but I think the buyers
will love it. I’ll need your honest opinion on some pieces, too.”
This was true. Chat had already visited Briar Ridge with them several times, and Danika liked to think he could help balance
out her choices.
“Oh, and the Grazing Globe is an amazing restaurant. If we have time, we’ll grab lunch.” Danika knew they’d have time. She’d already made a reservation.
“All for it,” Chat said as they started across the lot. “Just as long as I don’t have to eat any more birthday cake.”
“Chat, sick of cake? I never thought I’d see the day.”
The Galleria was gorgeous. It had two sprawling levels, an arched glass ceiling, a baby grand piano surrounded by flowers,
and low fountains running down the center of each corridor. The air smelled clean and expensive.
“Think they’d mind if I played ‘Chopsticks’?” Chat pointed as they passed the empty piano. “Or do you know ‘Heart and Soul’?
We could duet. Those are, unfortunately, the only songs in my repertoire.”
“‘Heart and Soul’? My god,” Danika said earnestly, “that brings me back.”
Danika’s pace slowed as her mind plunged back to North Carolina. Her mother had signed her up for piano lessons one summer
on one of her “we’re going to be better” kicks, but after only two weeks, she said it wasn’t worth the money. Now that old
tune plinked through Danika’s mind, and she wondered what her mother was doing at that very moment. She’d moved to Idaho for
some new guy she’d met online the year Danika left St. Cloud, and they’d only seen each other once since, right after Cooper
was born. Danika was too scared to combine her then-world and now-world. Her mother had never even met Bill. And while Danika
could not tell Bill the primary reason she kept their distance, there were plenty. He didn’t fight it. No man begged for a
mother-in-law.