Page 9 of The Woman I’ve Become

Valentine’s Day, the same day as my accident, we lost Eleanor, and we were all devastated, most of all Olivia.

Since Eleanor spent the majority of her time at our home, we had no idea she had taken a tenant in her Brooklyn home who took care of the place for her. At least not until Acacia, a total stranger to us at the time, called to say Eleanor had fallen down the stairs in her building and was being taken to the hospital via ambulance. With Olivia and Phillip at a father-daughter dance, I rushed via an Uber to be at Eleanor’s side. An icy patch on the Brooklyn Bridge combined with high speed was almost the death of me as well as the driver.

When I surfaced from the coma, I learned Eleanor was dead and Acacia had moved into our home to take her place. For Phillip, Acacia was a godsend. He desperately needed someone to take care of Olivia and the house while I recovered. There was no time and certainly no enthusiasm to do a proper search for someone new. Phillip decided that if Eleanor had deemed Acacia a good and trustworthy tenant, there was no need for additional interviews or concerns. Even in death, Eleanor had ensured we were taken care of. Or so it seemed.

Thankfully, I remained skeptical despite my well-meaning husband’s reasoning.

Acacia smiles. “Eleanor was the best at table setting. I am grateful for all that I learned from her.” She joins me at the table. “How are you feeling now that the interview is over?”

“Relieved,” I admit. The tea warms me. Lately I am always cold. Poor circulation, the physical therapist said. Injuries like mine and the lack of mobility are the core issue. But that’s getting better. I am determined to regain my strength and agility.

“Have you confirmed your plans?” she asks.

She and I spoke a bit last night. I want to go to the lake house for a while. To get away from the reporters and to just relax—at least that’s the story I gave Phillip. Acacia will go with us. Though I utterly despise being dependent on anyone, I have little choice. Since I suffered a couple of seizures as a result of the traumatic brain injury, I am not allowed to drive for twelve months according to the state of New York.

The problem is time is my enemy now.

More trouble is coming and I must be ready.

“I think we’ll go today as soon as Olivia is home from school.” There are things I need to do. Things essential to what comes next. I will be in a better position at the lake house to handle whatever crops up. At least that’s what I tell myself. Maybe I just need to be back there under the circumstances.

“There’s the library event after school today,” Acacia reminds me.

A groan slips from me before I can stop it. One of Olivia’s favorite authors of children’s books is speaking.

“You don’t need to go,” Acacia urges. “I’ll take her. We can stop at that little ice cream shop she loves so much after.”

I manage a smile. “That sounds nice. Olivia will be pleased.”

“We’ll have a grand time. You needn’t worry about a thing,” Acacia insists.

I sip my tea and pretend she is correct. I needn’t worry about a thing. But she couldn’t be further from right. My choices are very limited just now, so I do what I must.

Since coming home from the hospital to this new reality, I quickly recognized there were things Phillip had missed in his haste to fill Eleanor’s position. Sweet little ever-enthusiastic Acacia is not who and what she would have us believe. I must, however, make allowances for my husband given he has no idea I have these concerns.

In fact, it’s quite clear to me that the issue is no longer a mere concern. It is a situation. One that is here now, and I need to identify who has set this situation in motion. Unfortunately, there is more than one possibility. And even one is too many, particularly as the strategy remains unclear. That said, I recognize it has begun, and it involves Acacia.

Someone has engaged her to infiltrate my life and prepare for the next move.

No matter that the private investigator I hired once I was home from the hospital and recognized the new dilemma has found little about her, this is my gut instinct—one I know better than to ignore. Though he insists he’s getting closer, I cannot keep waiting. I have to act quickly.

Either way, I need Acacia close. Isn’t that what they say? Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?

As with all things, time will tell. The eventuality I have dreaded all these years has been set in motion, and I must be ready to face the consequences of my decisions and actions.

To that end, early this morning I sent Helen a text. Helen Riggs is the lake-house manager. I’m certain she is already in the process of ensuring all is as it should be before our arrival. I mentally run down the checklist for our departure and deem that all is set. I will email Olivia’s teacher and switch the rest of this week’s classes as well as the remainder of the term to online work.

Bottom line, this is the point of no return. Whatever is coming will come. There is no stopping it now.

What better place to go and wait?

After all, the lake house is where it began.

5

Later in the afternoon, the rain has stopped. I stand at the front window and watch as the car pulls to the curb. Security has backed the reporters away, thankfully. Despite it all, I smile as Olivia skips along the sidewalk toward our stoop, ensuring she splashes every remaining puddle no matter how small and shallow. This makes me happy. Acacia is right behind her, ushering her along.

As the car drives away, a man on the opposite side of the street catches my attention. He’s alone, since the reporters scattered when the car arrived. He stands there on the sidewalk, watching Olivia and Acacia. I lean closer to the glass, but I can’t quite make out the features of his face. Dark hair . . . maybe gray at the temples. It’s him, I realize. My pulse quickens.