And the last thing we were talking about was April. But that couldn’t have anything to do with it. Could it?
At that very moment, April’s car pulls up into her driveway. I watch her get out of the car, the measured expression of surprise on her pretty features. She jogs over in those stupid ballet flats she always wears.
“Oh my God!” she cries, a stricken look on her face. “What happened?”
“I’m afraid your neighbor took a fatal tumble, Miss,” the officer says to her. “They just took her away.”
“Oh no!”
April’s eyes fill with tears, and it looks so real. Even the police officer starts trying to comfort her. There, there. She was very old. Sometimes old people fall.
But just as she’s wiping the tears from her eyes, I see it. So quick, if I had looked away, I might have missed it.
She winks at me.
Chapter 44
TWO MONTHS EARLIER
I’m all alone in the house today.
Keith took the boys to see his mother. I stayed behind because I had a headache. What a surprise, Keith remarked. He has rightfully noted that I seem to get headaches a lot when he suggests visiting his mother. And now that I’m not going, the headache has miraculously cured itself. Look at that.
Last summer, we built a little porch coming off of our bedroom, and I’m sitting up there, enjoying the fall weather, while I read our latest book club selection. It’s this beautiful book about a man and his bird. I know everybody thinks the books I pick for book club are too long and boring, but it’s not like I pick the books to torture them. I try to pick books that I think are meaningful. Something we could have a great discussion about.
Then, for some reason, everyone just wants to talk about their husbands.
While I’m taking a sip from my iced tea, I notice Bobby Masterson playing in the backyard behind April’s house. I have a very good view of her backyard from my little porch. And I can see Bobby throw his ball on the ground, walk around to the gate, open it up, and leave.
I put down my book entirely and lean forward to watch. Bobby walks off all by himself and goes right to our new neighbors’ front door. I watch as he knocks on the door, speaks with the neighbors, and then goes inside.
April is probably inside, filming one of her YouTube shows. She undoubtedly has no idea her son just left the backyard and is at her neighbors’ house. She’s going to flip when she realizes he’s missing. I’ve got to let her know.
I go back into the bedroom and get out of my phone. I already texted her before I came out here to remind her about the PTA meeting, because she tends to let it slip her mind. I start to text April that Bobby left the backyard, but then I stop myself.
Why should I tell her? If anyone deserves a few minutes of panic, it’s April. She deserves a hell of a lot worse than that.
And then I get an even better idea.
I’ve still got that burner phone Keith was using to communicate with his girlfriend. I’ve got it tucked away in one of my drawers. I pull it out. It’s out of juice, but the charger is the same one as the one I have for my phone, so I plug it in and wait for it to charge. When the screen lights up, I start typing.
Want to know a secret?
Your son isn’t where you think he is.
I stare at my message on the screen for a moment. Is this too mean? She’s going to panic when she sees this text. Then again, she kidnapped my kids for two hours. She let me think she was doing God knows what to them. And she may have killed two women.
I press send.
Chapter 45
I’m addicted to torturing April.
I keep sending her messages on that burner phone, and I also start posting comments on her YouTube videos. I even toss a rock through her window one night, although I immediately regret it. Anyway, I can tell it’s getting to her. She doesn’t look as put together as she usually does. It’s petty. Sending her these text messages won’t bring back Courtney Burns. It won’t get any sort of justice.
But for instance, after her monster of a son almost breaks Leo’s nose and we are traveling to the hospital in an ambulance, I can’t help but text her the picture I have of her and Mark. I’m only sorry I can’t see her face.
Meanwhile, I’ve gotten to know our new neighbors a little better. Sean and Maria Cooper. And they have a lovely son named Owen. Owen is actually lovely, not fake lovely like Bobby.
But Maria is the one I get very close to. She’s everything I thought April was when I first moved in. She has this great infectious smile with deep dimples. She can’t bake like April does, but she’s a nice person. I feel like Maria and I are becoming friends in the same way April and I used to be. Before I knew what April was really like.
One Sunday in October, Maria and I are sitting together in her kitchen, having some wine I brought over while the boys play upstairs. I love how close Leo and Owen have gotten. And when they’re playing together, I don’t have to worry that Owen is going to give my son a black eye or steal his favorite toy. Even Tristan has gotten in on the fun, even though he’s two years older.
“This is so nice,” Maria comments as she swirls the wine around in her glass. “You… you’re not the way I thought you were when I first met you.”
I know the impression I give when I first meet people. I don’t have April’s warm smile. “Really? How did you think I was?”
“I don’t know. That email you sent about not allowing phones at the PTA meetings was pretty intense.”
That might be true. I wouldn’t have to do it if not for all those meetings where three-quarters of the women in the room were too busy talking or texting to listen to anything I had to say. It’s so incredibly rude.
“Also…” She giggles. “Who picks James Joyce for a book club?”
I laugh along with her. “Hey, I love Joyce. It gives me an excuse to read it. I’m always hoping maybe we’ll have a discussion about it. But April always makes sure to turn the conversation around.”
Maria traces a line along the rim of her wine glass with her finger. “You don’t like April, do you?”
At that moment, I want to tell her everything. I want to tell her how evil April is. I want to confess about my secret burner phone, and how I’ve been using it to torment her. But can I trust Maria? After all, I thought I could trust April and look at what happened. So I simply shrug. “She’s okay.”
“You know, she thinks you’re her best friend.”
“She doesn’t really think that.”
Sean has been doing some work out in the backyard and he comes into the living room with his fingers still slightly embedded with dirt. “Hey,” he says. “I’m going to get the grill going in the backyard. Julie, you staying for dinner?”
“Um…” I glance at the stairs. Leo and Tristan will want to stay for sure.
He holds up his hands and grins at me. “Don’t worry, I swear I’ll wash my hands before I get started.”
Sean and I got off to a bit of a rocky start. He was pissed off about some notes I left on their door about how they were parking their car incorrectly. But I explained to him that the parking rules were there for a reason. Two years ago, a fire truck couldn’t get through our narrow street because of the way people were parked. I’m not going to be responsible for somebody dying. So I organized the rules about how to park the cars, and we haven’t had any issues since.