“That’s good,” she said. “He wasn’t there last time.”
It wasn’t that Calvin was a particularly good father. Really, he wasn’t a father at all except in name. But Olivia’s eagerness to see him, despite his demonstrable apathy reminded me of the universal truth that had bound me to my own dysfunctional family: all children love their parents. And all children want their parents to love them.
“Did you have a nice time at camp?” I asked, turning back toward the lounge as porters unloaded her bags from the back of the helicopter.
She nodded. “I did. The horses were really splendid this year. I was really mad about this one Andalusian named Lucy.”
I smiled at her casual use of British slang, the same sort I had picked up as a girl from similar experiences. She was becoming quite the rider, so I had sent her to an English equestrian camp this year, hoping all the time outdoors with horses would give her the same pleasure it had given me at this age. Olivia would have plenty of time to learn the rigid rules of society, and God knew she got enough of them at her regular boarding school. During the summer, I wanted to give her space to play. To be a child. To get a little bit dirty.
Everyone deserves to get dirty sometimes, doll. Not just kids.
I blinked and shook the voice away. Over two months since I’d last seen him, his distractingly velvety voice was still there, popping up at the most inopportune times.
You love my voice, baby.
I squeezed my eyes shut as Olivia and I reentered the lounge. Stop it, stop it, stop it. I just wanted peace. That was all. Just a little vacation from this eternal emptiness. This strange longing that never seemed to abate.
“Hello, Ms. Olivia.” Moira crouched down when we reached her. “Have a nice summer, honey?”
Olivia nodded shyly, despite the fact that she had known Moira for most of her life.
My assistant smiled kindly. “Marguerite asked me to bring you this from the kitchen.”
Olivia’s eyes popped as Moira offered her a small piece of chocolate wrapped in wax paper. “Marguerite made caramels?”
Moira smiled as she stood back up. Olivia popped the candy into her mouth and chewed blissfully.
“It’s so good,” she confirmed through a full mouth. But then, as she caught me watching with interest, her expression shuttered. She swallowed and covered her mouth with one hand. “Sorry, Mama.”
I blinked. Sorry? For what? It took me a few seconds to realize she had expected to be reprimanded for talking with her mouth open. “Oh, it’s all right. You’re excited. And Marguerite’s caramels are really good.”
Olivia nodded shyly.
“Please tell me someone brought that kid some candy.”
Jane’s sardonic voice broke through our little staring match as she and Eric strode over, followed by the porters. They had been visiting friends in Boston for the week. When they discovered that her return flight from London went through Boston, Eric had offered to bring her the final leg with them on the company helicopter rather than forcing the girl to sit through another flight alone to Teterboro.
“Moira did,” I confirmed as I accepted kisses from each of them. “Thank you for bringing her back with you. I hope it didn’t mean cutting your trip short.”
Eric shrugged. “Not at all.”
“She’s a good kid,” Jane agreed. “A little too quiet, though. Olivia, I expect some more mischief out of you at the beach, all right?”
Olivia looked up at her and smiled shyly. “Auntie Jane, you’re silly.”
“I’m just doing what needs to be done. Eric needs someone to teach him a lesson, and it can’t always be me.”
“What beach?” I asked, momentarily sidetracked as we turned toward the exit, where each of us had cars waiting.
“Mama, are we going to the party at the big house?” Olivia asked.
“We decided to throw the white party again this year on Long Island after all,” Eric said. “Mostly because I have some new investors in town this weekend.”
“I mean, is it really a party?” Jane asked. “I’d call it more of a backyard barbecue that you thrust on me last night.”
Eric sighed. “Jane…”
She offered us all a contrived grin that had Olivia hiding giggles all over again. “It’s going to be fun, see? Really, though, Nina, you guys should come. Your mom’s helping us host, and she’d probably love someone to teach me how to do this correctly.”