4
I feel exhausted by the time Talia and her photographer are out the door. I stand at the window watching as the two rush along the sidewalk, ignoring the questions from the reporters who surge toward Talia like fans spotting their favorite celebrity. I watch until they vanish from view.
A nap is what I need, since I hardly slept last night. But I feel an urgency to stay alert, to be watchful. Whatever is coming, it is imperative that I am prepared.
“I’ve made tea.”
The sound of Acacia’s voice draws me from the unpleasant thoughts.
I turn to face the young woman who is part nanny, part personal assistant.
She, too, is an aspect of this new reality to which I came home after the accident.
No matter that it has been two months, between the pain and the physical therapy as well as the medications, I’m still getting used to her.
Or perhaps the better term is getting acquainted with her. Basically, Acacia Hanson remains a bit of an enigma. A very unexpected one.
“Tea would be lovely.” I summon a smile.
Acacia beams a radiant one back in my direction. “It’s a beautiful afternoon. I thought we might grab a little sun on the terrace.”
I feel a new tension coil inside me despite her seemingly genuine efforts. Even if I didn’t have certain suspicions, there is just something about her that sets me on edge. “Sounds good.”
Giving her credit, Acacia goes to great lengths to do the best job possible. She is eager to do whatever I need and to be like a big sister to Olivia. Phillip is very pleased with her. Of course he is. Acacia is quite young, only twenty-two. Attractive. Attentive.
I resist a sigh. Phillip is the man I married when all I could see .
. . all I could think about were the goals I needed to accomplish and finding a sense of empowerment and security.
He is older, thirteen years, in fact, but money had absolutely nothing to do with our union.
Love had little to do with it, either, if I’m honest. In fact, despite almost nine years of marriage, I’m not sure love has ever been a substantial part of our relationship.
Various levels of need are involved. Ultimately, it is accurate to say that our love for our daughter is what fully binds us. She is what makes us complete.
Likewise he needs me to present the well-rounded picture of family—a well-loved psychologist wife and an adoring daughter.
My own as well as his dedicated philanthropic work quells any perception of being out of touch given our combined wealth and the lifestyle that goes with our Gramercy Park brownstone and the Westport, Connecticut, lake house.
All is exactly as Phillip hoped it would be when he began the pursuit of a wife.
A woman who has the right look, possesses intelligence and is accomplished in her field of expertise.
One who pretends not to notice his little affairs and who always shows up—at least until recently—when he needs to paint the perfect picture of the classic American family.
Since the accident, most of my time and energy has been focused on healing, our daughter, and very little else.
Although I haven’t been able to attend many of his campaign rallies and fundraising dinners of late, his family name and all those other politicians he has supported over the years will ensure a win for him.
To be blunt, considering all that has happened, this campaign is a great relief to me. It means he is rarely home.
I shake off the thoughts and journey through the kitchen in my halting gait to the terrace where Acacia has prepared a lovely setting for our tea.
I sit down as she pours and offer a fitting compliment. “Eleanor would be proud of you.” I wish Eleanor were here. I miss her immensely. My heart aches at the painful loss.
Eleanor Winston was the best part of marrying into the Belmont family—besides Olivia, of course.
Eleanor made me feel welcome immediately.
She was an amazing house manager, and when Olivia came along she helped me hone the mommy skills I needed.
If I’m honest, she was more a mother to me than my real mother.
Phillip often said the same thing. He adored Eleanor.
She worked for his parents until we married and then she came to work for us.
Phillip’s parents had downsized considerably and no longer needed a house manager.
Valentine’s Day, the same day as my accident, we lost Eleanor, and we were all devastated, most of all Olivia.
Since Eleanor spent the majority of her time at our home, we had no idea she had taken a tenant in her Brooklyn home who took care of the place for her.
At least not until Acacia, a total stranger to us at the time, called to say Eleanor had fallen down the stairs in her building and was being taken to the hospital via ambulance.
With Olivia and Phillip at a father-daughter dance, I rushed via an Uber to be at Eleanor’s side.
An icy patch on the Brooklyn Bridge combined with high speed was almost the death of me as well as the driver.
When I surfaced from the coma, I learned Eleanor was dead and Acacia had moved into our home to take her place.
For Phillip, Acacia was a godsend. He desperately needed someone to take care of Olivia and the house while I recovered.
There was no time and certainly no enthusiasm to do a proper search for someone new.
Phillip decided that if Eleanor had deemed Acacia a good and trustworthy tenant, there was no need for additional interviews or concerns.
Even in death, Eleanor had ensured we were taken care of. Or so it seemed.
Thankfully, I remained skeptical despite my well-meaning husband’s reasoning.
Acacia smiles. “Eleanor was the best at table setting. I am grateful for all that I learned from her.” She joins me at the table. “How are you feeling now that the interview is over?”
“Relieved,” I admit. The tea warms me. Lately I am always cold. Poor circulation, the physical therapist said. Injuries like mine and the lack of mobility are the core issue. But that’s getting better. I am determined to regain my strength and agility.
“Have you confirmed your plans?” she asks.
She and I spoke a bit last night. I want to go to the lake house for a while.
To get away from the reporters and to just relax—at least that’s the story I gave Phillip.
Acacia will go with us. Though I utterly despise being dependent on anyone, I have little choice.
Since I suffered a couple of seizures as a result of the traumatic brain injury, I am not allowed to drive for twelve months according to the state of New York.
The problem is time is my enemy now.
More trouble is coming and I must be ready.
“I think we’ll go today as soon as Olivia is home from school.
” There are things I need to do. Things essential to what comes next.
I will be in a better position at the lake house to handle whatever crops up.
At least that’s what I tell myself. Maybe I just need to be back there under the circumstances.
“There’s the library event after school today,” Acacia reminds me.
A groan slips from me before I can stop it. One of Olivia’s favorite authors of children’s books is speaking.
“You don’t need to go,” Acacia urges. “I’ll take her. We can stop at that little ice cream shop she loves so much after.”
I manage a smile. “That sounds nice. Olivia will be pleased.”
“We’ll have a grand time. You needn’t worry about a thing,” Acacia insists.
I sip my tea and pretend she is correct. I needn’t worry about a thing. But she couldn’t be further from right. My choices are very limited just now, so I do what I must.
Since coming home from the hospital to this new reality, I quickly recognized there were things Phillip had missed in his haste to fill Eleanor’s position.
Sweet little ever-enthusiastic Acacia is not who and what she would have us believe.
I must, however, make allowances for my husband given he has no idea I have these concerns.
In fact, it’s quite clear to me that the issue is no longer a mere concern.
It is a situation. One that is here now, and I need to identify who has set this situation in motion.
Unfortunately, there is more than one possibility.
And even one is too many, particularly as the strategy remains unclear.
That said, I recognize it has begun, and it involves Acacia.
Someone has engaged her to infiltrate my life and prepare for the next move.
No matter that the private investigator I hired once I was home from the hospital and recognized the new dilemma has found little about her, this is my gut instinct—one I know better than to ignore. Though he insists he’s getting closer, I cannot keep waiting. I have to act quickly.
Either way, I need Acacia close. Isn’t that what they say? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?
As with all things, time will tell. The eventuality I have dreaded all these years has been set in motion, and I must be ready to face the consequences of my decisions and actions.
To that end, early this morning I sent Helen a text.
Helen Riggs is the lake-house manager. I’m certain she is already in the process of ensuring all is as it should be before our arrival.
I mentally run down the checklist for our departure and deem that all is set.
I will email Olivia’s teacher and switch the rest of this week’s classes as well as the remainder of the term to online work.
Bottom line, this is the point of no return. Whatever is coming will come. There is no stopping it now.
What better place to go and wait?
After all, the lake house is where it began.