And More Denials Eden
And More Denials
Eden
The kids are dutifully chowing down on their sandwiches when Margot comes into the kitchen with the sopping-wet towels, red with wine.
Or are they soaked with watered-down blood?
Could be either. I take them from her, put them into the sink, then pour some of the leftover wine and hand her the glass.
I try not to scratch my scars. They’re already red and raw from my attentions.
She takes a deep draft and sighs heavily. “What the hell, Eden? You knocked that over on purpose. Brook is furious.”
“It was a slip. You know I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“I’m starting to wonder,” she says.
I stare at her. How dare she say such a thing? My blood begins to boil.
“That is completely unfair. And I need to say something. I don’t like how I’m being characterized by you or by Brooklyn.
I’ve done nothing but help you. I’ve held your hand, mopped up your messes, babysat, run errands, been the entertainment, the chef, the maid, the nurse, and done it all with good grace and humor.
My God, Margot, I transferred my entire life here to Nashville so I could be of service to you.
” I move closer, twist a bit of her hair between my fingers, and tuck it behind her ear.
“So I could be with you. And this is how you repay me? With accusations? Asking me to leave?”
“It’s not my home. It’s Brooklyn’s. And she wants you to go.”
“Then come with me. We can go to your place. The kids love it over there.”
“The kids are going to stay here, with their mother,” she says.
She might as well shoot an arrow directly into my heart. They are mine, damn it.
“Margot, you know she’s not capable of caring for them. They need someone who can play with them, who is fully cognizant. She’s just come off a brain injury, and she is not healed by any means. Or else she’d understand how much I’ve done for her. For all of you.”
“It’s not my decision,” she says, but I hear her plaintive desire.
I move even closer. Tip her chin up. Brush my lips softly against her cheek. Whisper, “Please. We haven’t even had a chance to be together.”
She takes a firm step backward and knocks my hand away. “Why did Stephanie say she saw you in the pickup line around Halloween?”
“She was mistaken. I haven’t been in Nashville in years.”
“She seemed pretty sure.” Margot is shaking her head, eyes hard and glassy, and I know I’ve lost this round. That fucking woman, coming over and tattling. I will have to deal with her, too.
“It’s none of her business what I’m doing here. This is between us.”
Margot doesn’t say anything, just gazes at me. Her pupils are dilated. I see small beads of sweat starting on her forehead. She’s breathing heavily.
“Here, you should sit down. You don’t look so good.”
She says something, but she’s mumbling, and I can’t make it out. I get her onto the stool next to the kids. Four is watching me with suspicion, and Neve seems to be breathing a little faster, too. Right on time.
“Aunt Margot? Are you okay?” he says, then he, too, starts to pant.
“You’re okay, little man. You, too, sweet girl. Everything’s going to be okay. Let Auntie Eden help.”
“Don’t feel good,” Neve says, just as Margot slumps over onto the counter.
Four shocks me by screaming at the top of his lungs, “Mom! Mommy!” before he jumps off his stool and yanks his sister by the arms. He’s trying to pull her with him, and I grab him before he can get too far.
“Where are you going, silly goose? You haven’t finished your dinner.”
He’s pale and wide eyed, staring but not seeing anything. He slides to the floor. Poor little duckling.
I pick him up and lug him to the snug off Brooklyn’s bedroom, then come back for Neve and carry her prostrate body to the small room.
I snuggle her down by her brother and cover them with a warm blanket.
They are so sweet together, sleeping, their little mouths open.
I run a finger across their soft cheeks. What angels they are.
Back in the kitchen, Margot is groaning. It seems Brooklyn didn’t hear Four call her, which is lucky.
I pull my phone from my back pocket and send a text.
Having to execute early.
I get a thumbs-up on the message. I delete the entire string and the contact, too, for good measure.
And then I pick up Margot’s glass and steel myself. This is plan B, and I don’t want to totally incapacitate myself. All I want is for Brooklyn to leave us alone.
When the police realize she’s poisoned all of us in her madness, they will take the children away, and I will be here to provide for them. They’ll need next of kin, and I’m as close to that as they’ll have. I am their aunt. They belong with me.
I bring Margot’s lipstick-stained glass to my lips, a lover’s kiss.
Bottoms up.