A man like that knows his boundary line and wouldn’t cross it at the risk of everything he holds dear. But now the question was, how could she convince herself of that fact? While she may have been sleep deprived, Natalie was quite resourceful when the need arose, and soon an idea came to her.
“I love your top,” she said to Audrey, who had on a cream-colored cable knit sweater. “You’ve got such great taste.”
She tried not to put on too much of a show. Audrey returned an indifferent shrug.
“I’m far from an expert,” she said.
“Well, I’m wondering if you ever shop for men? For … Chris?”
Audrey went red in the face.
“Um, sure. I guess.”
Chatter on the fourth floor was at the usual high decibel level, but to Natalie’s ears the space had gone library quiet. She was letting nothing distract her.
“I want to go shopping for my husband’s birthday,” Natalie said. “Surprise him with a new wardrobe. Could you maybe suggest a store? Here, let me show you a picture of him. You can get a sense of his style.”
Out came Natalie’s phone like a quick-draw gun, and in no time, she had a picture of Michael up on the screen. She handed the phone to Audrey, all the while keeping her eyes locked on her target the way a raptor would a mouse. She assumed there’d be no subtlety if Audrey’s Chris happened to be her Michael.
Audrey took the phone that was basically thrust into her hand and examined the picture of Michael intently.
“This is your husband?” asked Audrey. Her fingers moved in a way suggesting that she’d zoomed in on his picture. A quick hit of adrenaline sent Natalie back on her heels. Audrey was seeing something all right. Her face blanched as she brought the photo closer, and it seemed for a moment she’d forgotten about Natalie standing there. Then she handed back the phone, suddenly flushed. “He’s handsome,” she said, looking like she might vomit.
Oh my God, I was right, thought Natalie, who blinked in disbelief.
But during that brief span when her eyes closed for just an instant, it was as if a complete transformation had taken place. Audrey no longer appeared disturbed or troubled in the slightest. The switch had come so quickly that Natalie had no choice but to question what she thought she’d seen. Did she imagine Audrey’s reaction, the shock and surprise? Natalie assessed Audrey anew, this time seeing nothing in her demeanor to trigger any alarm. If anything, Audrey appeared utterly composed.
“I’m sorry,” Audrey said. “But shopping for guys really isn’t my forte. Though, I’m sure whatever you choose will look good on him.”
Natalie focused in on a slight reddish color that had seeped into Audrey’s complexion. Was that embarrassment for being put on the spot, or was it a carryover from the initial reaction that Natalie thought she’d witnessed?
Natalie’s eyes burned with fatigue. She’d had two hours’ sleep last night, and two the night before. She didn’t want to use the word, but it came to her anyway.
Hallucination.
Was she seeing things now?
Visual hallucinations, paranoia, and disorientation are all common symptoms of insomnia. She felt fatigued for sure, had trouble keeping awake in meetings, but had she crossed some threshold into another level of sleep deprivation psychosis? The last thing she wanted was something new to talk about with her psychiatrist.
As if on cue, it happened again—another look from Audrey that Natalie found quite unsettling. There was something in it, something subtle and layered, but underneath it all, Natalie was sure she saw fear.
Then, just as before, the look was gone.
Audrey returned a weak smile.
“Thanks again for lunch,” she said. “Let’s do it again sometime. I’m late for a meeting. Gotta run.”
And with that, Audrey bounded off down the hall at a hurried clip, her fast footsteps soon becoming a run, until at last she was out of sight.
CHAPTER 13
NATALIE
An hour and a half after leaving the hotel, Natalie had made it all of two miles in the dense traffic of lower Manhattan. She calculated only a thousand-plus more miles to go. City lights swirled about them like they were driving through an electric meteor shower. The city was alive, and so were they, though Natalie’s worries and fears about the upcoming journey only deepened with each West Village Italian bistro they passed.
At least the kids weren’t begging to stop for something to eat anymore. They were both quiet and content now that they had bellies full of pizza and sodas, which helped soften the blow of their jarring transition. Bryce’s inquiries as to the whereabouts of his father, when exactly he’d be joining them, and where the heck they were going came less frequently until they stopped altogether. He had a blanket to comfort him, soft with a satin edge, but it was a poor substitute for Teddy. Pile on the mother guilt.
Soon as she could, she’d find a toy store and get a new, bigger stuffed animal for him, though she was well aware it wouldn’t really help. Teddy could never be replaced. Natalie made sure to check in with Addie as much as she did with Bryce. She was mindful of how stress could trigger her asthma, but so far, so good. Perhaps it was Teddy getting left behind that inspired Addie to act more compassionately toward her brother and less focused on her own distress. It wouldn’t have been a conscious choice—she’s too young for that kind of insight—but at least for now something was holding her worry at bay, along with her asthma. All that could change in an instant though, and Natalie only had two inhalers. She hoped it would be enough, as picking up another would risk exposure.
After twenty minutes of stop-and-go driving, Natalie was more than ready to say goodbye to the congestion and noise of the city. The kids perked up when they passed through the Holland Tunnel, and Bryce, as expected, won the breath-holding contest. Their delighted laughter from the backseat filled Natalie with some hope, but that didn’t erase her fatigue. Her dry eyes felt like they were sprinkled with sand and dust. She knew her doctor would have sternly advised her against driving in this condition. Nobody needed a medical degree to reach that conclusion. Fatigue probably made her as impaired as a drunk driver. It was hard to pay attention to the road and her reaction time was undoubtedly diminished, but still she motored on.
At least she had a plan, a place to go where she was expected—a friend of hers whom (she hoped) Michael wouldn’t think to contact. But with so many miles to go, there was no way Natalie could make the drive in one long leg, with or without insomnia. At some point, they’d have to find a motel, hopefully one that would take cash.