Midnight Voices

CHAPTER 5

“But you promised!” Ryan uttered the familiar phrase with all the outrage a disappointed ten-year-old can muster, and the storm brewing in his eyes looked as if it could build into a tornado at any second.

“I didn’t promise,” Caroline replied. “I said ‘we’ll see.’ ”

“You said we could probably go,” Ryan shot back.

“ ‘Probably’ isn’t a promise,” Laurie put in, and though her daughter was trying to make it sound like she was trying to be helpful, Caroline could also see a glint of amusement in Laurie’s eyes as she watched her brother’s angry disappointment. “ ‘Probably’ only means ‘maybe.’ ”

Ryan wheeled on his sister. “It does not!” he challenged. “It’s almost like yes!” He turned back to his mother. “If Dad were still alive—”

“Don’t!” Caroline said, the single word erupting from her with enough force not only to silence her son, but to drain his face of color and fill his eyes with tears. And where she could defend herself from his anger, she was helpless against his pain. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry,” she said, dropping to her knees and gathering him in her arms. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It’s just that—”

That what? How could she explain to Ryan that she simply couldn’t afford to take them to a movie tonight, not with the threat of losing her job hanging over her like the sword of Damocles? All through Saturday evening Claire’s words had gnawed at her, and though she’d finally gone to bed, she’d tossed and turned sleeplessly, a cold chill of fear threatening to overwhelm her as she thought about what would happen if Claire made good on her threat. And deep in the despair of the small hours of the morning, she’d silently uttered exactly the same words she’d just chastised her son for speaking. Indeed, she’d gone much further than Ryan, silently cursing Brad for leaving her alone, leaving her to cope with the ugly realities that had so quickly replaced the shattered dreams that lay around her. It wasn’t supposed to be this way — she wasn’t supposed to be trying to raise her children as a single mother, trying to figure out how they could survive on the money she was able to make. If only Brad hadn’t—

She’d cut the words short in her own mind, just as she’d stopped her son from uttering them, but the thought had finished itself, and no amount of wishing would change things.

Brad was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Claire might fire her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

She’d gotten up this morning exhausted, and when Ryan had begged to go to a movie tonight, she’d been too tired to argue with him. What she’d intended as nothing more than a delaying tactic, he’d taken as a promise.

Now, as she felt the sting her words had caused even more than he did, another thought came to her.

Brad might be dead, but she was not, and neither were Ryan and Laurie.

And while she might lose her job, she might also not lose it.

In fact, if she was going to be completely honest, she had no real idea of what would happen, and what would not. All she had were hopes, and most of those had been dashed with Brad’s death.

And even though the bank account was almost empty, she had a nice fat commission coming on the Oriental vase she’d sold to Irene Delamond. All right, it wasn’t going to be fat enough to pay the rent next month. But it was certainly fat enough to take them out to a movie.

She gave Ryan a final squeeze and stood up. “Okay, guys, here’s the deal. I didn’t promise we’d go to a movie tonight, but Ryan’s right — I did say ‘probably,’ which is closer to yes than maybe. And I know I haven’t been a lot of fun to be around today. But I had a good sale yesterday afternoon, so what do you say we go out for Chinese, then go to the movies?”

Instead of answering, Ryan ran to get his jacket before his mother had a chance to change her mind.

Three hours later, as they came out of Loew’s theatre on 84th and started down Broadway, Caroline knew she’d made the right decision. Just having a meal in a restaurant for a change, then sitting in the dark theatre and losing herself in the space epic Ryan had chosen for them to see had given her a feeling that maybe life wasn’t hopeless after all. Though nothing had changed (except that she was a few dollars poorer now than she had been a few hours earlier), just the short respite from worrying somehow seemed to have given her hope that they would all survive. And walking home through the spring night, she could almost imagine that Brad was still with them, walking just behind her, watching her. “I like the way your hips move when you walk,” she heard him whisper in her memory, just the way he used to whisper in her ear before dropping back a few paces so he could watch. But he hadn’t whispered in her ear, and he wasn’t with her. It was only in her imagination that she could feel him watching her.

Yet as they turned on 76th, with only another block to go before they would be back at their building, the feel of Brad’s eyes on her was so strong that Caroline suddenly found herself looking back. For just an instant, she thought she saw a flicker of movement, but the sidewalk was empty, and she decided it must have been a breeze disturbing the leaves on the trees that lined the block. But when they crossed Amsterdam Avenue and started down the last block the feeling of being watched came over her again, and once more she glanced back over her shoulder.

And once again thought she saw a flicker of movement.

The leaves again?

Perhaps a cat or a squirrel?

Or perhaps someone slipping into the concealing shelter of a doorway.

She quickened her step, suddenly wanting to get the children inside.

But surely she was imagining it. Who would be following her?

Now her mind was racing, and even though she told herself that she was being ridiculous — that the streets of Manhattan were safer than they’d been in years — she found herself having to resist the urge to break into a run.

Now her heart was racing, too, and the children seemed to be picking up her nervousness.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” Laurie asked.

“Nothing,” Caroline said a little too quickly. “I’m just a little chilled that’s all. I’m looking forward to getting home.”

Then they were there, and as Caroline fumbled in her purse for the keys, she glanced back down the block, searching the darkness for any sign of danger.

There was nothing.

She found the key, slipped it into the lock, and a moment later she and the children were safely inside the building. She made sure the outside door was fully latched and the inner door locked, and punched at the elevator. Though she tried to resist the urge, she couldn’t keep herself from glancing at the front door three times before the elevator finally arrived, and only when they were safely in the apartment with the door locked, double bolted, and chained did she finally let herself relax. As the kids got ready for bed she moved through the apartment, not only turning off the lights but checking the windows to make sure they were all securely locked. Finally she went to Laurie’s room, said goodnight, then moved on to Ryan’s room to tuck him in. As she bent over to kiss him goodnight, his arms slipped around her neck, and he pulled her close.

“Mom?” he whispered. “Is something wrong?”

Caroline froze for a second, but then squeezed him reassuringly. “Of course not,” she assured him. “Everything’s fine. And tomorrow’s a school day and you need to be asleep.” Tucking him in, she turned off his light, but left his door ajar so a little light would leak into the room from the night-light in the hall. Then she checked the door and windows one more time, and at last retreated to her room. Turning off the light, she went to the window and gazed down into the street.

She saw nothing.

And there is nothing, she told herself. I’m just imagining things.

Pulling the curtains, she turned her back on the darkness, but even as she undressed, she knew she was in for another sleepless night.

Outside, a figure stepped from the doorway across the street from the building in which Caroline Evans and her children lived. The face tipped upward for a moment, scanning the darkened windows one last time.

A moment later, apparently satisfied, the figure vanished into the night as completely as if it had never been there at all.