Drive. None of this has gone the way she planned. You can never really predict how things are going to go. There’s always a wild card in the pack somewhere.
She knows Stephanie is home. It’s lunchtime, and the double buggy sits empty on the front porch. She’s inside, probably in the kitchen, feeding the twins. Erica gets out of the car.
She walks purposefully across the street and rings the doorbell. She doesn’t have to wait long before Stephanie answers the door. When she does, Erica can tell that the sight of her on the doorstep is a shock. Stephanie looks awful, besides – her hair is limp, she’s not wearing any make-up, and her clothes are unwashed. She looks exhausted, wrung-out. Erica hopes she’s taking better care of the twins.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Stephanie says.
‘Can I come in?’
Stephanie looks back in dismay at Erica on her doorstep. She never wanted to see her again. ‘Why the hell would I let you in my house?’ she says, her voice strident. ‘You’re nothing but bad news.’ Her heart is beating fast and she moves to close the door in Erica’s face. But Erica is too quick for her and blocks the door with her body.
‘Calm down. I only came to talk,’ Erica says.
Stephanie glares at her, breathing rapidly; she can’t get Erica out of the house without becoming physical, and she doesn’t want to do that. She suspects Erica is much stronger than she is. She silently considers calling 911, but something stops her.
‘So, that’s where it happened?’ Erica says, looking over Stephanie’s shoulder into the kitchen and gesturing with her chin to where the twins sit in their matching high chairs.
Stephanie says nothing as Erica brushes past her and makes her way into the kitchen. She closes the front door behind her and follows.
‘Just like that,’ Erica says, turning around to face her, ‘all your problems are solved.’
‘You’ve got a lot of nerve,’ Stephanie says acidly.
‘I’m just speaking the truth, and you know it,’ Erica responds. ‘You’re rid of your cheating, murdering husband.’
Stephanie averts her eyes. Erica makes her nervous. She has a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach.
‘Personally,’ Erica says, ‘I don’t care. Good riddance to Patrick. He got what was coming to him, the bastard. The world is better off without him in it, wouldn’t you agree?’
Stephanie can’t read her. Why is Erica here? ‘What do you want?’
Erica says, ‘I just came to say well done.’
Stephanie feels her stomach drop. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean,’ she smiles a little smile, ‘if you killed him, you have my blessing.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Stephanie says. ‘He killed himself. I’d told him I was going to divorce him and take the twins and my inheritance with me. I’d already seen a divorce attorney.’
Erica looks back at her through cold eyes. ‘Let’s not kid ourselves,’ she says. ‘Patrick was not the suicidal type.’ She lets the silence lengthen, enjoying herself. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything. Not yet.’ Then she smiles again and says, ‘I’ll let myself out.’
After she goes, closing the front door behind her, Stephanie turns to the kitchen sink and throws up violently until there’s nothing left in her stomach. Then she rinses her mouth, and ignoring the twins, who have begun to fuss and cry in their high chairs, she starts to pace back and forth across the kitchen floor.
Erica knows. Erica knows. Erica knows.
She stops in her tracks. She should have foreseen this. Why didn’t she foresee this? She’d thought Erica was out of their lives – Patrick released, Erica discredited. She had done her worst and failed. Stephanie had been so focused on getting rid of Patrick … The babies are crying loudly, but she continues to ignore them.
Erica wants her money. Erica will try to blackmail her. She will do to her what she did to Patrick. Erica dealt drugs, she sold her own baby for money. Of course Erica will try to make her pay.
Finally Stephanie wears herself out. She slumps in the chair in front of the twins – the chair Patrick was in when she pulled the trigger – and picks up the spoon that she put down when Erica arrived at her door. Emma and Jackie are both red-faced and squalling from being ignored, their distressed faces covered in tears and snot and baby food. She lifts the spoonful of puréed carrots to Emma’s eager, open mouth. But then her eyes go