“I’m sorry,” she says.
“What do you mean, you’re sorry? What are you trying to say?” I ask, feeling my annoyance escalate.
“I’m not trying to say anything,” April says. “I just thought you should know... I thought you should know that Romy said it looked . . . well. . . odd. . . the way they were standing together.”
“And how was that?” I snap. “How were they standing!”
“Well. . . like a couple,” she says reluctantly.
Doing my best to control my voice, keep it from shaking, I say, “I think you both are jumping to a pretty dire conclusion.”
“I’m not jumping to any conclusions,” she says. “I realize it could be perfectly innocent. He could have gone to see the school to, like you said, investigate it for Ruby, and while there, he could have just run into Valerie . . . in the parking lot.”
“What other scenario could there be?” I ask, indignation washing over me.
When she doesn’t answer, I continue, becoming strident. “That my husband had an inappropriate rendezvous in the Longmere parking lot? I mean, April, I’m no expert on affairs, but I can think of a lot of better places . . . Like a motel. Or a bar . . .”
“I’m not saying he’s having an affair,” April says with a note of panic, clearly aware that I am royally pissed. She clears her throat and furiously backtracks. “I’m sure Nick would never develop an inappropriate relationship with a patient’s mother.”
“No. He would not,” I say boldly. “He would not do that with anyone.”
Cate perks up in her seat, giving me a “you go, girl” smile, pumping one fist in the air.
More awkward silence passes as April says, “You’re not mad at me, are you?”
“No. Not at all,” I say curtly, stiffly, wanting her to know just how mad I am. Wanting her to know that I think it is vastly uncool that she would perpetuate a rurnor about my husband. That she would ruin my weekend with her fear-mongering, rumor-spreading, meddlesome ways. I almost tell her that maybe she is the one who should take a hard look at her life, consider what might be missing, what void she is trying to fill.
“Okay. Well. Good,” April says, continuing to babble. “Because I would never want to start trouble . . . I j u s t . . . I just would want you to tell me if you saw Rob with anyone . . . Even if it was perfectly innocent... I just think that’s what friends are for. We girls need to stick together . . . look out for one another.”
“I appreciate it. And you can tell Romy I said thanks, too. But there really is no need for concern.” Then I say a terse good-bye and hang up, looking across the table at Cate.
“What happened?” she asks, her eyes wide, her long lashes still layered with black mascara from last night.
I give her the scoop, waiting for her reaction.
“I think there is a good explanation here. I think that’s a lot of circumstantial bullshit. And I think your friend April sounds like an ass.”
I nod, pushing my plate away.
“What do you think?” she asks carefully.
“I think... I think I need to go home,” I say, my head swimming.
“Today?” she says, looking disappointed, but supportive.
“Yes,” I say. “I don’t think this can wait... I need to talk to my husband.”
Valerie
She awakens the next morning in something of a blissful stupor, unable to make herself move from the spot on her bed where Nick left her several hours before, kissing her one final time, promising to lock the door on the way out and call her in the morning, even though it was already morning.
Her eyes still closed, she rewinds the reel to the beginning of the evening, replaying every exquisite detail, all of her senses buzzing, in overdrive. She can still smell his musky scent on her sheets. She can still hear him breathing her name. She can still see the strong lines of his body, moving in the shadows. And she can still feel him everywhere. She rolls over to glance at her clock, just in time to see Charlie tiptoeing past her room, clearly trying to be stealthy.
“Where are you going?” she says, pulling the covers up over her shoulders. Her voice is hoarse, the way that it is after a concert or an evening spent in a loud bar, which is puzzling, because she is quite sure she made no noise last night.
“Downstairs,” he says.
“Are you hungry?”