Page 10 of The Wives of Hawthorne Lane
Audrey nearly sags with relief as the offending object disappears from view. If Seth ever found out she was having an affair, Audrey doesn’t knowwhathe’d do, but she knows it wouldn’t end well. He’s a prideful man, her husband, hyper-concerned about appearances. And the wife of the famous Seth Warrington sleeping with another man certainly doesn’t align with the public image he’s going for.
Audrey takes a long sip of her wine, hoping the slight tremor in her hand isn’t noticeable. Seth sits across from her, his eyes intent on his wife for the first time in as long as she can remember. He smiles, but there’s a falseness to it, a chill that makes Audrey’s blood run cold.
8
Georgina
Hawthorne Lane
The kitchen timer dings and Georgina slides on her oven mitts before slowly edging open the door to the oven. The sweet, nutty aroma of her famous amaretto cheesecake wafts out, filling the kitchen with evidence of her efforts. This recipe isn’t an easy one. Georgina knows that a perfect cheesecake should cook slowly and evenly, and the top should never brown. The eggs in the batter need a humid environment to rise properly while not becoming dried out, so the key is the bain-marie, the water bath. Cooking the cake in a lined springform pan and adding just enough water around the base to keep the temperature regulated and the filling moist without oversaturating it ensures that the cake will lift slowly while maintaining its rich, creamy texture.
She gingerly slides the confection from the oven and places it on a trivet atop the counter. The center of the cake jiggles as she puts it down, as it should; it will set as the cake gradually cools. She usually leaves her cheesecakes inside an open oven, but it’s already far too warm in her kitchen and she knows her neighbors will be arriving any minute.
This welcome-to-the-neighborhood barbecue for Mark and Hannah is long overdue, as Georgina had some difficulty juggling everyone’s schedule, but it was important to her that they do it, even if only a few families will be attending. She had hoped that the family at the end of the block, the ones closest to Hannah’s age, might come with their two children, but they hadn’t been available.Georgina isn’t entirely surprised by this, as they tend to keep to themselves. In fact, Georgina hardly ever sees the parents, both young professionals from what she’s gleaned, just their nanny pushing their little girl in a stroller, holding their little boy by the hand.
It’s a shame, Georgina thinks, that the residents of Hawthorne Lane aren’t more connected. They’re all cordial enough—bringing in each other’s recycling bins should someone forget, loaning a cup of sugar here and there—but none of the neighbors are particularly close. It seems that the only occasion the entire block gets together for is the fall festival on Halloween. It’s the neighborhood’s biggest event—all the residents of Hawthorne Lane decorate their porches and set up tables in the street to hand out candy, and this year Georgina’s even arranging for a fireworks display. The whole town of Sterling Valley comes to Hawthorne Lane for Halloween. It’s what they’re known for. And Georgina has, over the years, become the unofficial organizer of the event. Not that she minds. This is where she excels.
Georgina takes a bowl of lemons out of the refrigerator and begins slicing them for the fresh-squeezed lemonade she’ll serve today with sprigs of lavender clipped from her garden. Even though it will be a small gathering, Georgina wants to do this for Hannah. It’s been eighteen years, but she hasn’t forgotten what it felt like to be the newcomer on the block. She was pregnant with Sebastian at that time, and she remembers how nervous she’d been, how alone she’d felt with Colin working long hours and no friends or family nearby. And then she’d met Libby. She rang Georgina’s doorbell one morning, completely out of the blue.
“I know pregnant ladies are supposed to sit around eating bonbons or whatever,” she’d said, her hand coming to rest on top of her belly, which was almost as full and round as Georgina’s. “But I’ve been going a little stir-crazy lately. Thought you might be feeling the same. Up for a walk?”
Georgina had been so touched by the gesture, by Libby’s easy familiarity. It might not have meant much to Libby, but it did to Georgina. Suddenly she had someone to walk through the neighborhood with as they pushed matching strollers, someone to chat toabout the best brands of diapers and the exhaustion of sleep regressions. Even though their connection has faded over the years, Libby felt like a lifeline to Georgina back then, whether she knew it or not. Georgina wants that for Hannah too. No one should have to feel alone.
Georgina slides the first batch of lemons into a glass pitcher, the knife scraping along the cutting board. She recalls that Audrey Warrington once mentioned enjoying this lemonade at a previous neighborhood gathering, so Georgina wants to have it on hand for her. The two women might not be close, but Georgina prides herself on being an excellent hostess.
She feels a gentle breeze at her back, and for a moment it’s refreshing. A reprieve from the oppressive summer heat. She allows herself to close her eyes and breathes in the fresh air, swirling with the clean, bright scent of the lemons. And then she realizes, too late, where the draft must be coming from—she’d cracked the kitchen window open earlier this morning.
Georgina whirls around to close it, but to her horror, she sees a crack—no, a canyon—opening down the center of her cheesecake. The rapid temperature change has ruined it. She remembers reading somewhere that running a hot spoon over the top of the cake can hide unsightly cracks, but she can’t bring herself to do it. Even if no one else noticed the flaw, the spoon-smeared surface, she would. She slides the entire thing into the garbage can, where it lands with a judgmental thud.
Georgina made plenty of other desserts to serve, but that cake was supposed to be the centerpiece. She turns her back on it and resumes cutting the lemons with a renewed fervor.
She’s so angry at herself for the oversight that she could scream. How could she have made such a stupid mistake? This is herthing.Heronething. She knows it seems trivial in the grand scheme of things—her spotless house, her flawless cheesecakes—and maybe it is, but it matters to her. She doesn’t have a high-powered corporate career like Audrey’s or a business she can call her own like Libby’s. All she has is this small corner of the world, and she should be able to make it perfect.
Colin strolls into the kitchen in the new white polo shirt Georgina picked up for him earlier in the week. “Smells great in here,” he says.
“Thanks.” She doesn’t mention the failed-cake incident. “You’re looking awfully refreshed today.”
“I took one of the new sleeping pills the doc prescribed me. Woke up feeling like a million bucks.” Colin grabs a cube of cheese off the crystal platter Georgina arranged them on and pops it into his mouth. “When is everyone expected to arrive?”
“Any minute now. Oh—” She notices the sales tag that dangles from the collar of Colin’s shirt and pulls the kitchen scissors from the knife block. “Let me get that for you.” She snips off the tag and hands it to him.
“Good catch,” he says as he turns to throw it away.
He hesitates for a moment, his hand hovering over the garbage can. Perhaps he notices the ruined cheesecake at the bottom of the bin, but if he does, he doesn’t mention it. He drops the tag in and closes the lid just as the doorbell rings, announcing the arrival of their guests.
—
Georgina unlatches the French doorsleading out to the yard, a tray of maple bacon–wrapped water chestnuts balanced on one hand. As the door swings open, she’s greeted with a wave of gentle music, the sound of light laughter. All in all, the party is off to a great start.
Colin is holding court by the drinks cart, mixing up mojitos with muddled mint leaves for Seth, Mark, and Hannah, while Libby and Audrey are seated under the shade of the patio table with drinks in their hands.
The kids, who would probably rather be anywhere other than here with their parents, have positioned themselves as far from the adults as possible: on the other side of the yard, by the pool. Christina is lying on a towel near the water’s edge. She’s on her stomach, kicking her legs up behind her, her nose in a book. Sebastian, meanwhile, sits surly and bored on a lounge chair, a plate of food on hislap and headphones plugged into his ears. Lucas, Libby’s son, is his mirror image in a chair on the opposite side of the pool. Georgina and Libby had tried to foster a friendship between their sons when they were small, but sadly they never quite took to each other.
An image floats into Georgina’s head of her children when they were small, Sebastian and Christina splashing in this very pool that sits empty now, inflatable water wings fixed around their upper arms.Mommy! Watch what I can do!But that was a long time ago, a faded-sepia memory.
She watches her daughter as she stands and stretches now, leaving her paperback splayed, facedown, on her towel beside her discarded glasses. She lifts her cover-up over her head, revealing a swimsuit that as far as Georgina can tell is nothing more than a few triangles held together with bits of string. She knows these tiny little suits are all the rage at the moment, but she’s not certain it’s appropriate for a neighborhood function. Especially for a girl Christina’s age. Georgina doesn’t have the first clue where her fifteen-year-old daughter procured such a thing, but she’s positive that Colin would have an absolute stroke if he saw her in it. Georgina, still balancing the tray of hors d’oeuvres, hurries over to Christina.
“Oh, yum,” Christina says, lifting a water chestnut from the platter.
