“Oh, you picked up!”
“Would you rather I not have?”
There is a pause. I assume she’s gathering all of her words together. God knows she’s been saving them up for two years.
“Leah, I’m so sorry,” she says. I hear her sniff and wonder if she’s crying.
“That’s a given,” I snap. “You are a liar.”
“I was just doing what he asked,” she says.
“Courtney is my sister,” I say firmly. “And I will do everything I can to protect her.”
“That’s what I wanted to speak to you about.”
I wrap my free arm around my waist. I suddenly feel very vulnerable. Why did this woman think she could talk to me about my sister?
“I’ve tried to see her. They won’t — “
“Stay away from Courtney,” I say. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
I hear Cash sob and feel a pang of pity. Maybe, I’m being too harsh. I wonder what Courtney would say to her.
“I need to tell her I’m sorry. I need — “
I cut her off. “I have to go. Don’t call me again, Cash. I’m serious.”
I hang up and immediately go to the closet and pull out Courtney’s umbrella picture. I hold it against my chest, gnawing on my bottom lip. How could I stay away from her as long as I had? What was wrong with me? We used to be so close.
I start to laugh, covering my mouth at first, trying to stifle the hyena-like noises. I can’t control it. The laughter rolls out of me, climbing in volume. It’s the easiest thing I’ve done all day. When Sam comes to stand in the doorway of my closet, I abruptly stop.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
I straighten up, stashing the painting away before he can see it.
Chapter Thirty-Two Past
He left me after the trial. Not right after. We had three months of silence during which I learned what it was to be married and utterly alone. Caleb went back to work right away, leaving me at home alone for most of the day. I roamed the house and watched daytime television, feeling depressed. I had expected things to go back to normal after the trial was over, never considering that I would be out of a job and my high profile case would tarnish my name, despite my non-guilty verdict. My father’s company was dismantled. What was left of it was used to pay settlements to the families of the deceased and my attorney’s fees. Caleb’s moods were remote. He wouldn’t look at me anymore. It was the stress of the trial, I decided. I suggested we take a vacation together. He said he had already taken too much time off of work for the trial. I suggested marriage counseling. He suggested time apart.
One name kept ringing in my head over and over: Olivia. Louder and louder and louder.
She had driven a wedge between us. Again. She was like a disease that came along every few years, contaminating everyone in her path.
Caleb lost a lot of weight the first month. I thought he was sick. I made him go to the doctor, but his blood work came back normal. There was nothing wrong with him. But, there was something very wrong. He hardly smiled, hardly spoke. When he was home, he spent hours alone in his office with the door closed. When I asked him about it, he blew me off.
“I can’t always be perfect, Leah. Sometimes, I get to have bad days too.”
What did that mean? Had he always had bad days and just never told me? I tried to think about the last time I remembered Caleb having a bad day, and I couldn’t. He was always smiling, teasing, encouraging. Did that mean he never had bad days? Or that he hid them from me? I didn’t want to think about it. I didn’t want to think.
“Why aren’t you eating?” I asked.
“I don’t have an appetite.”
“You’re under a lot of pressure. Let’s go away for a few days.”
“I can’t,” he said, without looking at me. “Maybe next month.”
I asked again the following month. He said no. He was having more than a few “bad days”.
Finally, I’d had enough. I had lunch with his mother. If anyone would know how to handle Caleb, it would be Luca.
Or maybe Olivia…
No, I wasn’t going to give her that. She had some sort of power over him, yes, but he’d been mine for five years. I knew him. Me!
Luca arrived to our lunch ten minutes late. I was on my second glass of wine when she gracefully lowered herself into the seat across from me. It was rare that we both had free time to get together. After we ordered and got through ten minutes of small talk, she looked me right in the eyes, like she knew something was up.
“So, what’s wrong? Tell me…”
I avoided her sharp, blue eyes and concentrated on my chewed down fingernails.
“It’s Caleb,” I said. “Ever since the trial, he’s been … different.”
She took a sip of her drink. “Different how?”
I caught the edge in her voice. I had to be careful what I said about him. I needed her insight without her jumping all over for me for criticizing her son.
“Distant. It’s like he doesn’t want to be around me anymore.”
She tapped her fingernails on the table and studied me.