Page 18 of I Know She Was There

“I’m fine. Just a little light-headed,” I managed. “I might be coming down with the flu, so maybe I should just head home?—”

“The flu in May?” She balanced her hands on her substantial hips. “You’re probably just hungry—at least I hope you are. I fried up a chicken and made my famous potato salad. Can you handle the small basket?”

Before I knew it, we were mere yards from the bubbling pond. Chicken leg in hand, I looked warily at the center fountain spouting torrents high into the air. Taunting me. I shivered as Muzzy rattled on about how Johnny loved to come home to an orderly house, how her cleaning compulsion eased the stresses on her overburdened husband. In the midst of her soliloquy, she noticed my trembling, tossed me a sweater she’d brought for herself, and continued speaking, only ceasing her running commentary to chew and swallow. Her words barely registered amid the pounding in my ears. I sat beside Emmy’s dozing form in the carriage, nodding glumly.

The gag of retching made me look up, and catch Muzzy bending little Amber over the grass, both their arms covered in vomit. When the child straightened and faced me, her entire front, from chest to toes, was covered in regurgitated food.

“Oh, goodness,” exclaimed Muzzy, standing and scooping up her child. “Looks like that’s the end of our picnic.” She began walking toward her house, shooting a glance over her shoulder. “I’ll be back as soon as I get us changed. Just watch the boys and we’ll pack up once I return.”

Relieved, I took a deep breath. I could do this. I started gathering paper plates, telling the kids to pick up the plastic utensils.

“After we put our feet in the water,” said Christopher, scrambling off the picnic blanket. “Mommy said Alex and me could.”

“No!” The word came out sharper than I’d intended, but the boys were already crossing the half-dozen yards to the rippling water. I screamed again, my terror-filled tone halting them in their tracks right next to the pond’s edge. “Wait until your mother gets here!”

Alex looked toward his big brother for guidance and Christopher wavered on his little toothpick legs, unsure about my authority over him.

“Get away from that pond,” I yelled. My command seemed to hold them in check, but my words had no effect on Brandon, who, intent upon following his siblings, was too young to understand the order or the looming danger. Delighted with the newfound speed in his little legs, he quickly toddled over to his big brothers and before any of us could move, he plopped headfirst into the water.

Terrified, I tried to step forward, but my feet felt bolted to the ground. I scanned the portion of the pond Brandon had breached, squinting against the surface’s metallic glint, glaring as a shiny layer of aluminum under the sun’s blazing rays, obscuring shadows.

“Help!” I screamed, my throat stinging with the effort to amplify. “Muzzy, help!” My arms shot out as if I were close enough to reach the toddler.

Within seconds, my friend appeared from behind the stand of arborvitae shrubs edging her property, still covered in vomit and carrying Amber.

“Brandon’s in the pond!” I gasped as all my senses assaulted me: the sunstruck water hurting my eyes, the children’s screams reverberating in my ears, and the smell—a sudden, overwhelming whiff of rotted vegetation, like dead flowers too long in their vase. My head swam and my vision blurred.

Muzzy dumped Amber onto the grass and took off for the pond, a blur of motion. She jumped in without hesitation and, seconds later, scooped the toddler from the water. I stood watching her like a spectator at a macabre sporting event, still unable to move except for my convulsive shaking. She spread him flat on the grass and pressed her fingers against his protruding belly. Glancing up frantically, her eyes locked onto mine.

“Jesus, Caroline, call 911!” When I blinked at her, unmoving, she added, “What the hell is wrong with you? I need an ambulance!”

Her desperate tone spurred me out of my trance. I reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and did as she commanded.

Muzzy never spoke to me again. Not after Brandon spouted water and wailed to life, or as the ambulance came and stuffed the entire family inside and whirred away. Not in the days that followed either. No distraught or accusing phone calls, and no surprise visit on my doorstep.

But a few days after the incident, Muzzy visited Tim at his workplace. Recalling my bragging about his important job at Kinney and McKean Engineering, she’d found their office and my husband in it.

Tim never told me what Muzzy said, just that he worried the Owen family would sue us.

“That’s ridiculous,” I scoffed. “She would have no reason?—”

“She’d have every reason, Caroline,” he’d shouted. “You watched her child struggling to stay afloat and you did nothing to help. What kind of monster does that?”

CHAPTER9

SATURDAY, AUGUST 19

Ihad to convince Tim we belonged together. It may not be the best thing for us as a couple, but I must keep the family intact, for Emmy’s sake. I’d have to make inroads on that goal now before he discovered what I’d witnessed on Pine Hill Road and used it against me. I needed to buy time—time to prove to him I had remorse over the incident with Muzzy. Once again I decided that if Muzzy and I could rekindle our friendship, it might also strengthen his opinion of me. Emmy needed both parents continuously in her life, and I needed Emmy. Every day. I couldn’t risk the part-time parenting of holidays and weekends. I reached for my cell phone next to the cup of cold, untouched morning coffee.

His line rang three times and went to voice mail. I disconnected and tried again. This time the call went directly to his prerecorded message.

Thinking about Matt’s distracted wave when I’d pass by his house, I pressed Tim’s name in my contact list again. “Youdon’t have the luxury of ignoring me.”

This time he picked up. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you, of course. About us, and Emmy.”

“Keep Emmy out of this, Caroline.”

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