“Yeah. That’s a fair description,” I say, thinking that Diane also looks quite comfortable in tight riding pants.
“Okay,” Amy says, nodding as if we’re finally getting somewhere. Her sleek black bob swings forward, then settles right back in place. “So one night, Diana—”
“Diane,” I correct her. Somehow this seems like a relevant detail.
“Right. Diane stops over to borrow a cup of sugar—”
I laugh. “Does anyone do that anymore? That’s so…fifties.”
“Please forgive my gender stereotyping…especially given Diane’s remarkable career….Do you know it’s harder to become a vet than it is an MD?”
I roll my eyes at her transparent attempt to make me jealous. “Hmm, yes, I’ve heard that. Go on.”
“Right. So Diane drops by to borrow a…Phillips screwdriver. Her washing machine is on the fritz….”
“Pity,” I say.
“Yes. So Nolan finds one in the garage, then offers to take a look. While you stay home with Harper—in mid–temper tantrum—Nolan and Dr. West depart together.”
“And then what?” I ask, smirking. “Wait! Lemme guess….Do they have sex atop her broken washing machine?”
Amy doesn’t react. “No. Not as far as you know, anyway. He simply returns over an hour later, mission accomplished. The machine is all fixed….”
“Nolan’s good deed of the day,” I say, rearranging the loose pillows behind me and shoving one against my stiff lower back. “Good for him. Good for her. All’s well that ends well.”
“Yes…Yet you also notice that his teeth are a bit red…stained from a glass of pinot noir. She happened to have a bottle open….”
“Nolan doesn’t drink red wine.”
“Fine. Then you note a trace of bourbon on his breath. She poured him a glass while he worked. One for herself, too. She loves whiskey. They toasted the fixed machine and finished their lively discussion about thoroughbreds.”
“How lively?” I ask, still more amused than jealous.
“Very lively. He finds her work—and her rapport with such large animals—fascinating.”
“Actually, I think he does,” I grant her. “He’s mentioned it more than once.”
“Right,” she says, nodding. “So then it doesn’t altogether surprise you when Diane begins to drop by on a fairly regular basis. Just to say hello. Always when Nolan’s home. Often when you’re not. One evening, she drops by with a book. The one she told him about. The one she promises he will love…She casually touches his arm, but looks a little too comfortable in doing so….” Amy cocks her head and bites her lower lip suggestively.
“Okay, okay,” I say. “I get your point.”
Amy nods vigorously, smugly, as if we’ve just had a major breakthrough when what I’m really feeling is standard-fare competition with another woman. “So I don’t want my husband to cheat on me,” I say. “So what? Who would want that?”
“Some women do,” Amy says.
“Why’s that?” I ask, although I’m pretty sure I know the answer.
“So they have an out,” she says. “So they can do the same thing, guilt-free. So their situation becomes black and white, and they can get out of their marriage.”
“Well,” I say. “I don’t want that.”
“You don’t want Nolan to fall in love with Diane West?” she says. “Or you don’t want to get a divorce?”
“Neither,” I say firmly.
She nods, then writes one word on her tablet. I strain to see it, but can only make out a capital D.
“What did you just write?” I ask. “Divorce?”
“No,” she says. “Diane.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes. Nothing is going on with Diane! Or anyone else, for that matter,” I say, now full-fledged perturbed, which happens about once a session, to Amy’s clear satisfaction. “Why are you trying to scare me?”
“Are you scared?”
“No,” I say. “I’m not. I mean, nobody wants to be the fool. Nobody wants to be deceived. And I like to think that the father of my child has more integrity than to cheat on me. Or have some meaningless affair—”
Amy cuts me off, which she seldom does. “Okay. Well, let’s make it a deep emotional connection….But they never cross that physical line, both of them too principled to cheat.”
“I’d still be hurt,” I admit. “Is that what you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything,” Amy says, which for the most part, I believe. “I simply want you to understand your feelings on this subject.”
“Okay. Well, I would be very upset if Nolan cheated on me, whether physically or emotionally,” I admit, just before I let the word but slip out of my mouth.
“But what?” Amy’s expression is misleadingly placid.
“But if he simply wanted a divorce…without an affair…or another woman involved…I could probably live with that,” I say, wondering why I feel so tricked into this admission. I remind myself that Amy is on my side, or at least neutral. Besides, she’s a professional secret keeper—and certainly not in the business of judging.