Table For Five. Susan Wiggs
Derek and Crystal again and got no answer. Cameron drank a slug of milk straight from the carton, then offered some to Sean, who declined.
He didn’t like the unfamiliar feeling in his gut. It was a cold, hard squeeze, brief and intense, like a fist of ice. He said nothing to Cameron. No point in worrying the kid.
He took a stroll through the downstairs, checking out the house. This had been Derek’s world for more than a decade. It seemed strange that Sean had never been here. He’d been too busy chasing prize money and easy women half a world away, and hadn’t bothered to come back even for a visit. There was a big living room and a long hallway where, Sean imagined, Derek had obsessively practiced his putts. The dining room had a table and chairs and a tall glass cabinet that was practically empty, probably because it had once held Derek’s favorite trophies. Sean shook his head, thinking about his brother, feeling love and admiration and envy all in the same heavy wave.
“You don’t have to stay,” Cameron told him. “I can handle the girls.”
“That makes one of us, then,” Sean said. “I’ll stick around until we figure out where your mother went.”
Darkness crept down and shadows crowded into the corners of the large, empty rooms. Sean switched on a couple of lamps. The tense quiet in the house was broken when Cameron turned on the radio, tuning it to a hip-hop station.
A few minutes later, a car pulled up, headlights swishing across the living room walls. Sean’s gut turned watery with relief. Crystal might not be thrilled to see him, but that was too damned bad. He had a few choice words for her.
His relief evaporated when he saw that the visitor was Jane Coombs, lugging a red-faced Ashley and an overstuffed diaper bag. Sean liked Derek’s girlfriend well enough, he supposed, though he barely knew her. At the moment she wasn’t looking to be liked. She had that tight-lipped don’t-mess-with-me expression people wore when their last nerve was about to snap.
“Oh, hi, Sean,” she said, clearly surprised to see him. “I can’t believe Crystal stood up her own kid like this. Anyway, here you go.” She dumped the baby into his arms. The two-year-old regarded him with apprehension.
“Have you heard from Derek?” Sean asked, shifting the baby awkwardly.
“Not a word. We must’ve all got our signals crossed. Listen, I’m grotesquely late,” Jane continued, “so I need to hurry.” Spying Cameron, she said, “Come and get the car seat, will you? God, thanks, you’re a lifesaver.”
When Ashley saw her brother, she squealed with delight and reached for him. “Cam! Cam!”
“Yeah, I’ll be right back,” he said, and followed Jane out to her car.
When the baby realized he was walking away, she arched her back and let out a wail that penetrated like an armor piercing bullet.
“Hey, now,” said Sean, his chest filling up with panic. “It’ll be all right. He’s coming back.”
She thrashed her head from side to side and cried harder. Her tiny fists alternately clutched Sean’s shirt and pummeled him. He was reminded of the creature in Alien popping from the stomach of an unsuspecting man. What the hell was it with babies? he wondered feverishly. They were like another life form to him, a dangerous and sinister one at that. She was loud and smelled funky, too. He suspected Jane, in all her self-important rush, had not bothered to check the kid’s diaper.
It felt like an eternity before Cameron returned with the car seat. The second Ashley spotted him, she quit yelling and lurched toward him, nearly leaping out of Sean’s arms. He clutched the writhing little body to keep her from falling, then quickly handed her over. “I don’t think she likes me.”
“Naw, she’s just cranky. Probably tired and hungry, aren’t you, sugar bear?” Cameron jiggled her on his hip. “I’ll go get her something to eat.”
“’Nana. Want a ’nana,” Ashley chortled good-naturedly as he set her down and led her into the kitchen. In a heartbeat, she’d turned from the Tasmanian Devil into an angel. How did she do that so quickly?
A moment later, Charlie came barreling in through the front door, a towheaded dynamo.
“Uncle Sean!”
He caught her up in his arms. Her wiry limbs felt surprisingly strong, and something—her hair or skin—had a bubblegum smell. This was more his speed, a niece who actually liked him. “Hey, short stuff. How you doing?”
“I’m starving to death,” she said, clutching her stomach and reeling in his arms. “Where’s Mom?”
He set her down carefully, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “I’m going to be staying with you until your mom gets back.”
She gave him a look of skepticism, narrowing her eyes and twirling one pigtail with her finger. “Really?”
“Yeah. You got a problem with that?”
“Maybe I do.” She yelled with delight as he chased her to the kitchen.
There, the baby was happily cramming a chunk of banana into her mouth. Charlie helped herself to one. “Did you know monkeys peel bananas like this, from the bottom up?” She demonstrated.
“I guess that makes you a monkey.”
“I wish I was a monkey,” Charlie said.
“You look like one,” Cameron said.
Charlie stuck her tongue out at him.
“Monkey,” Ashley echoed around a mouthful of banana.
“Why do you wish you were a monkey?” asked Sean.
“Then I wouldn’t have to go to yucky, sucky school.”
“Sucky,” Ashley said.
Sean looked at Cameron. “Is she allowed to say that?”
“Probably not.”
Sean turned to Charlie. “Don’t say sucky.”
“Okay.” Charlie bit into her banana.
“Sucky,” Ashley said again.
“I’ll be right back.” Sean hurried out of the kitchen and went to the phone in the front hall. He picked up the handset and glared at it. What the hell was going on? This was starting to be truly…sucky. He wondered how long he should wait before getting seriously worried.
With a scowl, he dialed Derek’s cell phone. Derek always answered his phone, always checked his messages. When the voice mail clicked on, Sean said, “Hey, bro, it’s me. I’m here with your kids at Crystal’s house, and she’s not home. What’s going on? Call me.” He found Crystal’s number by the phone, got her voice mail and left a similar message. He wished, just briefly, that he knew her better. He wished he knew if she was the sort of woman who would temporarily forget her kids.
Now what? he wondered. He tried Maura. He didn’t know why. His girlfriend barely knew Derek and had never met Crystal and the kids. The people in his life didn’t know one another. His connections with family were disparate and shallow, something that had never occurred to him until now.
“Dr. Riley,” she answered with crisp efficiency. A fourth-year medical student, she was working at Portland’s Legacy West Hospital this year.
“Hey, Doc, it’s me.”
“Sean!” A smile brightened her voice. “What’s up?”
“I’m not sure. I’m with my brother Derek’s kids. There was some mix-up and their parents are MIA.”
“So call them and—”
“I can’t get hold of either one of them.”
“Well, then…look, I’m in the middle of rounds. And I’m staying in the city for a seminar, did I tell you that? Can I call you in a few?”
“Sure,