making the effort to get here with the bad weather.” I stepped forward and opened the front door. A gust of wind and rain whooshed in.
“You’re going out for a walk, Mrs. Trujillo?” She raked me up and down, her eyes like claws, a subtle sneer masking her concern. “In this rain?”
I stopped in my tracks, closed the door, and turned my eyes away from her scrutiny, averting my gaze to the living room view. Raindrops slid down the glass walls of my house like tears. The sky was black, the ocean choppy, the air several degrees cooler.
With my head held high, I gathered some self-composure and answered, “You’re right! I just wasn’t thinking. Well, um, I have a lot of work to catch up on.” I’d leave the visit to the dreaded spot in the woods for another day. In fact, better to leave it completely.
I wanted to chat to Mrs. Reed about the triplets, the history of Cliffside, their mother, but she was making me so edgy all I could think of was slinking away to the other end of the house. The sound of the rain patted at my nerves. I thought of the triplets again. Driving on Highway One in this unpredictable weather took skill. I knew how Dan drove. The idea of any of them having an accident filled me with dread. I was beginning to feel responsible for them.
“This is silly,” I told Kate after dinner that evening. “Really silly. All this driving back and forth in the dark. I’d feel so much more comfortable, more at ease, if you all stayed overnight.” I imagined how their mum would feel about them driving in the dark along these twisty roads, and knew that if I were their mother—and I couldn’t help but put myself in her shoes—I’d be freaking out. “Knowing what the roads are like around here,” I went on, “all those hairpin bends. I mean, look what happened to Juan.” Oddly, the subject of Juan had not come up again, thus far. I had taken it for the triplets’ discretion. Surely they must have known something? Maybe they had even asked Mrs. Reed about him. Now I regretted bringing him into the conversation. I’d really put my foot in it.
“Your husband?” Jen asked, not missing a beat.
No turning back now. “Yes,” I said. I fidgeted with the collar of my blouse, fingers trembling slightly. I hoped they wouldn’t notice, and I wondered if the shaking was because of being abstemious from drink or if I was just on edge lately.
“Why is your husband never here?” she quizzed.
I didn’t say anything, but I knew I had to. Had to appease their curiosity. “He had an accident. On that nasty bend near Ragged Point. I don’t like you all driving around in the dark. Why don’t you stay the night?” I thought my invitation would steer them away from the topic of Juan, but I was wrong.
“You lost your husband in a car crash?”
I hesitated before nodding vaguely, wondering how much she knew. “I had the shock of my life.”
“So that’s why he hasn’t been here all this time?” Dan said. “Like, almost seven months ago, right?”
I nodded. They knew a whole lot more than they’d let on. Were they simply trying to be discreet, keep my depression at bay by not bringing any of this up earlier? “It happened exactly seven months ago last week. Just after we moved in. I can’t help counting the days.” I held my head in my hands; a migraine was threatening to bloom.
“You must be so sad,” said Jen, taking my hand.
I nodded again. “It turned my life upside down.”
“But you told us when we first met you that your husband was away on business,” Kate pointed out. “Why didn’t you tell us the truth?”
My mouth felt like puffed up cotton wool. I shrugged, smiling weakly, trying to look calm. “It’s easier that way, to just pretend it never happened. And I don’t like strangers knowing I’m alone up here. Alone in this big house.”
Kate put her hand on my knee. “Well, you’re not alone now. You’ve got us. And we’re not strangers.”
I smiled.
“We can be your family now,” Jen said sweetly.
Fourteen
It wasn’t just the idea that the triplets were driving around in unreliable cars at all hours of the night that made me want them to stay. There was something else far more profound, almost palpable: I was beginning to feel I needed them. They filled