Chapter 9 - The Coats By The Closed Door
The party didn't end so much as thin out. One couple made a show of checking the time, another said the sitter had texted twice, and then the room tipped and everyone was standing with their plates half full. I didn't stop them. The candles had burned low and the pink flowers on the table looked tired under the lamplight. Lily was heavy on my hip, her cheek damp against my collarbone, half asleep but still holding on to my dress with her fist.
I told myself that was better. Fewer ears if Vanessa started again.
Vanessa stood by the couch with her hand still on her belly. That beige satin dress caught the light every time she moved. She hadn't taken her hand off herself all night. Mark was near the kitchen doorway in that navy suit, his white shirt open at the neck now, holding an empty glass he kept turning. He wouldn't look at me and he wouldn't look at her for more than a second.
"I'll get your coats," I said. It came out too bright. I shifted Lily higher and walked toward the entry.
The hallway was cooler. The overhead light was off and only the living room glow reached in there. Our coats were piled on the bench by the front door, and the guests' jackets were hung over the stair rail because I hadn't planned for that many people. The white paneled door at the end of the hall was shut. The black lever caught a little shine. I kept my eyes off it longer than I needed to, which meant I was thinking about it.
I set Lily down on the bench. "Sit here for Mommy, okay? Feet up."
She nodded, her pink clip slipping a little. Her light dress with the bow in back bunched under her. She rubbed her eyes and stared down the hall toward that closed door. She didn't point this time. She just looked.
I handed out jackets and said thank you and sorry the night got short. I hugged people I barely knew. I did not go near the white door. I didn't touch that handle. I moved around it like it was part of the wall, stepped wide when I carried a pile of coats past it to the front.
When the last neighbors left, it was just the four of us and the hum of the porch light outside. That's when I noticed the spot by the bench was empty. Earlier there had been a canvas tote bag shoved under the bench, one of Vanessa's, with the straps twisted. I'd seen it when we came in, pink tissue sticking out the top. Now there was only dust and a scuff mark on the hardwood. I stared at that empty space for a beat too long.
The hallway closet was still shut. The black lever hadn't moved. Untouched.
Vanessa came into the entry pulling her wrap tight around her shoulders. "We're going," she said. She didn't ask. She looked at Mark, not me. "Mark. We're leaving now."
He was behind her, hands in his pockets. "Vanessa —"
"No." Her voice cut, then she softened it because Lily was there. She still had that hand on her belly. "It's late. We've taken up enough of Maya's night. Lily needs bed." She glanced at Lily, then away fast. "We need to get home."
I picked up Mark's coat from the rail and held it out. He took it but didn't put it on. He looked tired in a way that wasn't just the hour. "Maya, I'm sorry about —" He stopped. He looked toward the living room with the candles and the wine glasses still out, the pink decor suddenly too much.
"Don't," Vanessa said. "Don't do that." She stepped closer to him and put her hand on his arm. It wasn't gentle. It was steering. "Car's out front. Let's go."
Lily leaned against my leg. Her voice was thick with sleep. "Mommy."
"I'm here," I said, and put my hand on the back of her head. Her hair was warm. I could feel her breathing slow against my blue dress.
Vanessa opened the front door herself. Cold air came in and lifted the edge of her wrap. The driveway was dark except for the porch light and the red blink of someone's taillights already halfway down the street. Their car sat at the curb, passenger side facing us.
Mark lingered on the mat. He looked at Lily, then at me. For a second I thought he was going to say something real. His mouth opened, then closed. He glanced down the hallway once, toward the closed white door, and then forced his eyes back to the porch.
"Goodnight," I said, because someone had to say something normal.
"Goodnight," he said.
Vanessa was already halfway down the walk, heels loud on the concrete. "Mark," she called back. Not angry now. Tight. Controlled. "Come on."
May you like
He went. He pulled his coat over his shoulders as he walked, didn't zip it, got in on the driver's side without looking back. She got in the other side and shut the door hard enough I heard it from the porch. The headlights swept across my lawn when they pulled out. I stood there with Lily in my arms again, the screen door tapping against the frame.
Inside, the house was too quiet. The candles, the glasses, the flowers. That white door still closed down the hall. And Lily's words from earlier still sitting in the air between rooms, unanswered.
