Jackie watches me. “Like what? You don’t feel attracted to him? Because that would be normal. You’re pregnant.”
I shake my head. “No, not that. I feel like he... I’m scared he is... I mean, what if he’s cheating on me?”
My sister bursts out laughing, then after a moment, she stops and looks at me. “You’re not kidding?”
I shake my head, and I feel silly.
She smiles. “Your hormones are twisting you all up,” she says. “Jude would never cheat on you, Corinne. That man loves you more than anyone I’ve ever seen.”
“Yeah. I know,” I murmur.
I lay my head back on the chair, and Jackie examines me.
“You’re pale,” she tells me. “Paler than normal.”
“I know.”
“I think you’re losing weight, too.”
“I’m sicker than a dog. That’s why.”
“I bet your hormones are just making you feel weird,” she finally says. “You’re not crazy. Hormones are powerful things, Corinne. They can wreak havoc on a person.”
“Yeah, I know.”
This isn’t hormones. I don’t tell her, though. She doesn’t want to worry, and I don’t want to burden her.
We chat for another hour or so, and then Jackie takes her leave, hugging me at the front door. She smells like Chanel, and it turns my stomach. I gulp in fresh air.
“Let me know if you need anything,” she says, staring into my eyes. “I mean it.”
“Of course.”
“You’ve got the baby to think of now. You’ve got to take care of yourself.”
“I know. Hey, Jackie, don’t tell Jude yet. I’m going to tell him as a surprise. I’m just waiting for the perfect time.”
She grins. “My lips are sealed. He’s going to be ecstatic.”
She hugs me again and waves as she trips down the steps.
I watch her drive down the road, and the dead leaves flutter on the road behind her. I close the front door, closing out October’s cold air with the thick iron of the door. My house is a fortress. I made it that way on purpose. It might’ve been subconscious, but my house is no less safe because of it.
I head back into the kitchen, stopping first at the fireplace to turn the flames on. The wood and the tiles are cold this time of year.
I let Artie in, and I’m pouring another cup of hot chocolate when my phone rings.
I glance at it, and it’s Jude’s name flashing at me.
“Hey, babe,” I answer, balancing my cup and my phone as I head to my chair.
“Just checking on you,” he says, the huskiness of his voice rasping in my ear. “You doing okay?”
“Yep,” I tell him. “I’m feeling better.”
“Good. Do I need to bring you something home for lunch?”
“No, don’t drive all that way,” I tell him. “I’m not that hungry.”
“Okay. I’m coming home early this evening,” he answers. “Get some rest.”
“Will do, boss.”
“If only,” he says wryly.
I laugh.
We hang up, and Artie whines at the door. Ready to go again already.
“You have a bladder the size of a peanut,” I tell her, letting her out. She races past me with intention, bounding down the back porch and out to the fence. She lunges at it, barking loudly, trying with all her might to get through.
Alarmed, I go out, wrapping my sweater tightly around me.
“Artie, stop!” I call out as I get closer. “Stop.”
She doesn’t even look up, her paws scratching at the fence, barking and growling.
“Hush, girl.” I grab her collar and try to peer through the slats. There’s nothing there. “There’s nothing here.”
I pull her toward the house, and when I reach the back steps, I swear I hear someone laughing.
A weird giggle, carried on the cold wind.
A woman.
I whirl around, but just like I suspected, there’s no one there.
30
Two days, fourteen hours until Halloween
Jude
Are you coming to the diner for breakfast?
I answer Zoe’s text quickly. I’m running behind today.
You’ve been running late a lot lately.
She seems accusatory, suspicious.
Suddenly, it occurs to me that Zoe knows everything about me. My wife’s name, my name, my address. If things end badly, she could blow my entire life up.
I can’t let that happen. So I have to make sure they don’t end “badly.”
Maybe I can make it.
Try! she answers, then adds a winky face.
I finish lacing up my shoes, then pause. I’m actually running a bit late. If I go jogging, I won’t have time for breakfast.
Sighing, I take my shoes back off.
I text her back.
I’ll be there.
“Hey, who are you talking to so early?”
I turn, and Corinne is in the door of my closet, watching me sleepily.
I slide my phone into my pocket quickly. “Just Michel. He wants to have breakfast.”
Corinne glances at the time. “You’d better hurry, then. You’ll be late for work.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll have to skip my run.”
I strip off my clothes, and Corinne pecks me on the cheek. “I still feel yuck. I’m going back to bed.”
“Have a good day, babe.”
I put on slacks and a shirt and head to my truck.
Somehow, the drive to the diner feels more like a prison sentence than anything else. This whole thing with Zoe has become tedious, a tricky balancing act.
I’m not sure it’s worth the thrill anymore.
In fact, as I make my way through the café and see Zoe’s flushed face, and the way she looks at me so possessively, I know it’s not.
It’s not worth it.
Not anymore.
In fact, it wasn’t ever.
31
Two days, thirteen hours until Halloween
Corinne
“How you feeling?” Jackie asks when I answer the phone.
I take stock as I make tea. “Okay, I guess,” I tell her. “I haven’t thrown up yet.”
“Good,” she tells me. “That’s progress.”
“I guess,” I say, holding my hot cup in my hands, warming my fingers. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” she says brightly. “Teddy is going to take me on a last-minute getaway. I’m so excited I can’t see straight.”
“Where to?” I ask, more to make conversation than anything else.
“Sonoma and Napa. I’ll bring you back some wine. You can have it after the baby’s born.”
I smile. “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll need it.”
She giggles. “I leave tomorrow, and I’ll be gone for a week. Do you need anything before I go?”
“Nope. But thanks for checking.”
“Okay. Well, I’ve gotta go do laundry and pack.”
“Talk to you later.”
I hang up and turn the fireplace on, and as I do, I see Michel’s truck pulling into the drive. He and Jude must’ve cut breakfast short.
He doesn’t even knock. Like usual, he just pokes his head in and calls to me.
“Come in, goofball,” I tell him. “I’m right here.”
He has two cups of coffee in his hands, and a sack.
“I came to bring my brother breakfast,” he says. “Am I too late to catch him?”
I pause, startled, and my chest feels weird. Tight.
“Um, weren’t you meeting him at the café?”
He blinks, staring at me.
One beat passes.
Then two.
�
�Uhhh, yeah. We were. But then I ran late, and I’m not sure if he got my text.”
His tone is off and he’s uncomfortable. He even pulls at his collar.
“Michel,” I remind him, “lying is a sin. Is everything okay?”
He nods slowly. “Yeah, of course. Why would I lie?”
“I don’t know.” I eye him. “Why would you?”
He loosens, rolling his eyes. “You’re worrying too much, Co. We just crossed signals. No big deal. And the bright side? You get a free breakfast.”
He thrusts the sack at me, and I take a cup of coffee, even though I know I won’t drink it. Now that I’m pregnant, I have to give up caffeine.
“Thanks, bro,” I tell him.
He grins. “Anytime. You need anything else?”
“Nope. I’m just going to eat my newly acquired breakfast and then maybe shower.”
He pats my back, and before he’s even pulled out of the drive, I’ve texted Jude.
How was Michel this morning?
Because something isn’t right.
I feel it.
I feel it.
Jude doesn’t answer until I’m throwing my breakfast trash away.
Fine, why?
My heart pounds and pounds. Because why would he lie to me?
No reason, I answer. Have a good day.
I try to enjoy my own, but it’s almost impossible...because something something something niggles at me.
Something tells me that everything is wrong.
I consider digging around, and trying to find things out on my own, but decide a direct approach is best.
I call Michel.
“Hey!” he answers. “Don’t blame me if the breakfast was crappy. I didn’t make it myself.”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see. “No, it’s not that. Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.” His answer is immediate.
“It’s about Jude,” I warn him. “I don’t want to believe it, but I feel like something might be going on.”
“What do you mean?” Michel is cautious, his words slow. I know I have to tread lightly here. Michel is a priest, and he loves me, but Jude is still his twin brother. I know his allegiance will always lie with him.
“There was something weird about this morning. He told me that he was meeting you for breakfast, but he didn’t. And when I asked him how you were, he said fine.”
Michel is silent.
My brother-in-law is still silent, for one beat, then another.
“Michel?”
He sighs. “Yeah. I...I don’t exactly know, Corinne. But I do know this. He’s been very worried about you lately. And you know him. When he’s worried or upset, he withdraws. He probably thought it would hurt your feelings to tell you that he just wanted some alone time.”
“You really think nothing is going on?”
“What do you think would be going on?” he asks, and he’s still careful.
I feel sillier by the minute. “I...worry that he might be seeing someone.”
“Oh. Don’t worry about that, Co. No way. I know my brother, and he wouldn’t. He loves you. He’s always talking about you, always worrying about you. I swear—it’s just this time of year. He’s always worried that he’s going to say something that will trigger you.”
I consider that.
“Well, if he wasn’t with you, where was he this morning?”
Michel’s answer is immediate. “Probably taking some alone time. Running or eating. It’s all he ever does. And when he’s upset, he likes to be alone. He hasn’t been calling me much lately, so I know he’s troubled.”
I’m troubling him.
That thought makes me feel guilty and troubled myself.
“Thanks, big brother,” I tell him softly. “I’ll talk to him. I don’t want him to tiptoe around me. I’m not made of glass.”
“I know you’re not,” he answers. “I’ll talk to him, too.”
“You don’t have to,” I start to say, but he interrupts.
“I want to. You know I love both of you.”
“I know.”
32
Two days, twelve hours until Halloween
Jude
My thumb taps my desk, and I stare out my office window, into the street.
Halloween is just in a couple of days, and it’s a good thing. The jack-o’-lanterns are starting to shrivel. I notice that someone’s scarecrow has lost its head in the wind. It rests in the dead grass twenty feet from the rest of the straw body. For some reason, it seems eerie.
I stare at it, watching it tumble and roll, and I push away my growing concern about my wife. It’s while I’m staring at it that I notice a beat-up truck idling down the street, with my brother’s familiar face inside.
I greet him at my office door. “Hey! What are you doing here?”
Michel brings the cold October air in with him as he breezes past me.
“Be my guest,” I offer wryly, closing the door after he enters.
I trail behind him and wait for him to get to his point.
“Are you okay?” I ask as he takes a seat across from my desk.
He shakes his head. “No.”
I’m startled, then concerned. “What’s wrong?”
I sit down and Michel shakes his head.
“I was at your house earlier,” he mentions. “And you weren’t.”
He stares, and I pause. “So?”
“So, your wife was under the assumption that you were with me. But you weren’t.”
Fuck.
“Um, I...”
“I told her that our signals must’ve gotten crossed. But I know something is up, Jude. I feel it, and she does, too. Tell me what it is.”
My shoulders drop, because I’m sure he does feel it. He knows me too well for me to lie.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I try to tell him. But as I knew he would, he doesn’t let that fly.
“Jude,” he says sternly. “Tell me. I mean it. I have a really bad feeling. What’s going on?”
One look at his face, and I know that stalling isn’t going to work. Or lying. Or excuses.
“I don’t know,” I tell him honestly. “I have no clue what I’m doing, or what I’ve gotten myself into. I only know that I wish I hadn’t.”
“This has to do with the girl at the diner? Zoe?” Michel’s question is plain and knowing.
“Yeah.” I don’t even ask how he knows.
“Son of a bitch,” he swears, staring out the window, away from me. “You have to end it.”
“That’s not necessary. I mean, yeah. I have to get away from her, but I haven’t actually done anything with her. Not really.”
Michel sighs and situates himself in his chair. His white collar is stark in the room, a glaring reminder that he’s everything that’s good in the world, and right now, I’m everything shitty.
“Do you know how many times I hear that in the confessional?” he asks. “Countless times. But, Father, I haven’t acted on it. But, Father, it was just emails. Or texts. I haven’t really sinned. I hear it all the time. I never thought I’d hear it from you, though. Jude, any time or attention that you place on someone other than your wife is infidelity. You’re being unfaithful to your wife right now. Do you realize that?”
“I’m not,” I protest, but his words slam into my heart.
“You are,” he argues. “Don’t try to tell me you haven’t done things. Phone calls or texts or lunches or whatever. I already know. I don’t know everything, but I know you, and I can see it on your face. You’ve got to put a stop to it. If you don’t, there will be severe consequences. Do you love your wife?”
“Of course I do.” My answer is immediate.
“Then end whatever this is with Zoe. She’s noth
ing to you, Jude. She might be lovely, but you’ve got a beautiful wife and a life you’ve worked hard for. Whatever you’re seeing in Zoe...it’s just because she’s new. That is all. End it immediately before it gets out of hand. I’m saying this as your brother, and I’m advising you as a priest.”
I stare at the floor. “I don’t even know how it got this far,” I finally admit. “She’s really into me and pays me attention, and, Jesus, it sounds so pathetic.”
Michel doesn’t argue. He’s simply silent.
“She started texting me, and I... It hasn’t gone very far,” I tell him. “I would never.”
“You think you would never,” Michel points out. “But these things get out of hand. I’ve seen it happen a hundred times. End it. You’re a better man than this. Corinne deserves better, and so do you. If there’s a problem in your marriage, put in the time to fix it. Don’t occupy yourself with distractions.”
I nod, because he’s right. Because I’ve been pathetic, and my brother knows it. My cheeks flush because I’m humiliated.
“Please, don’t say anything to Corinne,” I say, staring him down. “I’m asking this as your brother. I’ll end it.”
“I’m always your brother,” he assures me. “This is yours to handle. But I love you, and, bro, this is a dangerous path. I just had to tell you that. I love Corinne, too. I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”
“We won’t,” I assure him. “Let’s just chalk it up to something else dumb that Jude did and move on.”
“Corinne called me this morning,” he says. “She has a feeling something is off. You need to handle things, Jude.”
“I will,” I promise. Somehow.
“We don’t have to speak of it again,” Michel confirms. “I just had to say something.”
“I appreciate that. Now, I’ve got to get to work,” I tell him, and I feel like I have to be careful now. He’s going to watch everything I do to make sure I’m coloring inside the lines.
He rolls his eyes. “Stop. I trust you.”
He gets up, and then he’s gone. I watch his truck rumble out of the neighborhood, and I slump against the wall, and my knees literally feel weak.
Fuck.
Me.
33
Such Dark Things Page 17