by Liz Wolfe
“The one off Hadden Parkway. Why?”
“I need to open a checking account. I thought it might be best if I don’t have the account at Craig’s bank.” Screw Craig. He could use the money in his secret account. Plus the money in our—his—savings account. The money invested in the stock market. He could cash in his 401K for all I cared. It’s not like I’d be using it when he retired.
I drove to the bank and this time Bobbi Jo accompanied me inside. The bank manager came out and pulled Bobbi Jo into his office while I filled out the forms for a new account, using Bobbi Jo’s address. I turned over the cashier’s check with only a little twinge, showed my ID, received my book of temporary checks, and thanked the clerk.
“Oh, I’ll need a credit card, too.” I had two credit cards in my name, but they were tied to the bank account I shared with Craig.
“One moment.” The clerk punched some information into his computer and smiled at me. His phone rang and he picked it up, spoke briefly, then hung up and turned back to his computer.
“We can offer you a Platinum card with no annual fee and a ten-thousand-dollar limit. Will that be all right with you?”
“Yes, thank you.” Frankly, I was surprised. I knew my credit was good, but ten thousand dollars was more than I’d expected. I’d been thinking more in the three-to five-thousand-dollar range. The clerk handed me a folder stuffed with papers that had spewed from his printer.
“There you are. You should receive a debit card and the credit card within a week.”
Bobbi Jo emerged from the manager’s office holding some papers as I finished with the clerk.
“All set?” she asked. I nodded and we returned to the car. Bobbi Jo fastened her seat belt and turned to me. “Did they give you a decent credit card?”
“How do you know I asked for a credit card?”
“I told the manager that you were a friend of mine and I’d appreciate it if he could take care of you.”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“Well, what’s the point of having money if you don’t use it? Or at least the influence it gives you. They’re terrified I’ll move my accounts to another bank.” Bobbi Jo laughed. “Like one bank is better than the next.”
“What are those papers?”
“Stuff from our safe-deposit box. I didn’t even remember that we had one.” She looked at the folded papers. “He had an insurance policy on Jimmy in case something happened to him. Ten million dollars.”
“Ten million? That’s a lot.”
“It was to protect the business. I certainly don’t need them now.” Bobbi Jo dropped the papers into the back of the Escape.
I thought ten million dollars was a hell of a motive for murder.
“The bank treated me very well. Thanks.”
“So, what exactly did you just do?”
“I took most of the money out of our joint account and opened an account for myself.”
“That’s my girl!”
“Now, I need to find a place to live.”
“Don’t be silly. You’ll stay with me.”
“I can stay with you for a while, but I need my own place. Sheridan needs a home. And I need to provide it for her.”
“Sheridan’s at that performing arts school for the rest of the summer and then she’s going to college. She won’t mind staying at my place for a while. You can take your time finding a place. Meanwhile, you’ll stay with me.”
No, she certainly wouldn’t mind staying at Bobbi Jo’s. Between the swimming pool and the luxurious guest rooms with the big screen televisions and stereo systems, not to mention the billiard room, the screening room, and maid service, Sheridan would be happy to spend some time there. Then my stomach churned.
“Oh, God. I have to talk to Sheridan.”
“What did the doctor say?” Bobbi Jo asked.
“I’m probably fine. He did something called a rapid test for HIV and it was negative. But he wanted to make sure so he ordered a DNA test, too. He’ll call me with the results when they come in.”
“Oh, darlin’, I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”
“Yeah, me, too. Remember when having an STD just meant taking antibiotics?”
We let the conversation drop, probably because it was an uncomfortable subject. The fact that I had to be tested for HIV along with a host of less serious STDs made me angry all over again. I also felt concerned for Craig. I didn’t know how often he’d had gay sex or if he’d been safe about it. Then I was pissed that I was worrying about him. I didn’t want to care. I wanted to just wipe him from my memory, but I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Annoyed with my depressing thoughts, I pulled a notebook and pen from my bag.
“What’s that?” Bobbi Jo pointed to the list I was writing.
“A list of stuff I need to do.” I added another item to the list as Bobbi Jo looked over my shoulder.
“Find a place to live. Get a job. Talk to Sheridan. Get a lawyer. Divide stuff with Craig.” Bobbi Jo pulled a bottle of sauvignon blanc from the refrigerator. “Sounds like you need a drink.”
“I won’t argue with that. I really appreciate this, you know.”
Bobbi Jo handed me a glass of wine and smiled. “What? Letting you stay here?”
“You have enough to deal with right now.” The wine was delicious, and I felt the tight muscles at the base of my neck relax.
“That’s just it.” Bobbi Jo picked up the wine bottle and waved for me to follow her into the front room. “I don’t have nearly enough to deal with. Edward is gone. My life pretty much revolved around him. Oh, I had my own friends, like you and Lily. But for the most part, Edward was my life. Don’t get me wrong. That’s exactly how I wanted it. I loved Edward being the center of my universe.”
“It must be so hard for you.”
“I’d just about prepared myself for Edward’s death. But I thought I’d have a few months with him.” She set the wine bottle down so hard I thought it might break. “Who the hell wanted him dead, Skye?”
“I can’t imagine anyone wanting Edward dead.” Then I remembered Matt. “Do you know Matt Nichols? He was at the house after the memorial service.”
“I met him once when Edward was trying to buy out his company. Seemed like a nice man.”
“He said something about Edward taking his company. He specifically said that Edward didn’t buy it but took it.”
“He did? I don’t remember much about the deal. Edward didn’t talk much about his business. Said it was boring.”
“Matt was pretty drunk that day. Maybe it was just that he was having some regrets about the deal.”
“I’ll mention it to the detective. He told me to call him if I thought of anything that might help them.” Bobbi Jo set her wine glass down. “Anyway, now that the memorial service is over and all the business stuff has been handled, I have nothing to do. You, on the other hand, have way too much to do. The least you can do is let me help.”
Leave it to Bobbi Jo to make it sound like I was doing her a favor by letting her help. “If I could, I’d let you do all of it.”
“Overwhelming, huh?”
“Pretty much. I guess I need to figure out what to do next. And I think that means talking to Sheridan.”
“Is she rehearsing for the show at school all weekend?”
“No, the rehearsal is just Saturday. She didn’t think it was worth the trip to come home for a few hours on Sunday.”
“Then call her and tell her you’ll pick her up on Sunday morning. The sooner you take care of it, the better you’ll feel. Then we can start on the next thing.”
There were a lot of next things to choose from, but I knew Bobbi Jo was right. I really couldn’t concentrate on anything until I’d talked to Sheridan. Waiting until she came home the following weekend would just be too long.
“Which leaves us with tomorrow.” Before I could say anything, the phone rang. Bobbi Jo looked at the caller ID. “It’s Craig.”
I’d have to talk to him soo
ner or later. I nodded and Bobbi Jo handed me the phone.
“Hello?”
“Skye, I’ve been trying to call you all day. You didn’t answer your cell phone.”
“I was busy.”
“I can see that. All your clothes are gone.”
“Yes. I’m staying here for a while. But I’ll be looking for a place of my own soon.”
“Skye, it doesn’t have to be like this. We can work this out.”
I sighed loud enough that he could hear me. “It’s not something we can work out, Craig. It’s something you need to deal with.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“Craig, don’t you think it’s a little late for that? I mean, being curious about something is one thing, but finding you and some guy in our bed is pretty final. At least for me.” I paused but Craig didn’t say anything. “I think the time we could have worked anything out passed about three years ago when you opened up the checking account you never told me about.” I forced myself to wait through the full minute of silence before Craig responded.
“I don’t really know what to say about that.”
“You could start by telling me why you felt it necessary to hide money from me.” There was a longer silence during which I gathered Craig wasn’t quite ready to discuss the hidden account.
“I don’t know what I’ll do without you. You know, I never meant to hurt you.”
Why do people say that? I never meant to hurt you. The fact was, Craig probably didn’t set out to hurt me. The problem was that he didn’t do anything to ensure that he wouldn’t hurt me. I didn’t want to say any of that to him. He sounded scared and fragile. I knew I probably shouldn’t care, but I did.
“I think we both have to find new lives for ourselves now. I’m not saying that we can’t still be friends. Someday. But I’m going to need some time to deal with your betrayal.”
“I feel like such an ass.”
I couldn’t bring myself to argue with that.
“What are you going to tell Sheridan?”
What, indeed? Certainly not that I’d found her father in bed with a man. “I’m going to tell her that we’ve grown apart and have some issues that we can’t resolve. That’s all.”
“I should tell her.” Craig’s voice was barely a hoarse whisper.
“Tell her that you had an affair? Craig, I don’t think she needs to hear that. What good would possibly come of it?”
“No. Not about the affair. About my sexuality. She’s going to find out sooner or later and I’d prefer that she hear it from me.”
“Not yet, Craig. I think you need to come to terms with it before you say anything to her.”
“You’re right. I mean, I was just experimenting. A lot of men experiment. It doesn’t mean anything.” Craig’s voice sounded high and edgy. “I mean, I know it was wrong to not tell you. But …”
I had no answer for that. I had no idea if it was even true. I hadn’t considered that Craig would want to stay married. Could he have just been experimenting? And if that’s all it was, could we save our marriage? Something deep inside me said no. It wasn’t just experimenting, and there was no going back. There was just something fundamentally wrong about having to get an HIV test when you were married.
“I guess you’re right,” he said. “She doesn’t need to know anything right now.”
“Craig, I’m going to see her on Sunday. I’ll tell her that we’re separating.”
“Will she be home next weekend?”
“I don’t know. But she might want to stay here with me.”
“Of course, anything she wants.” Craig cleared his throat. “What about you? You’ll need some money.”
“I took some money out of our checking account today.” I couldn’t bring myself to let him find out how much when checks started to bounce. “Actually, I took out most of it.”
“That’s not a problem.”
“I have to go now. I’ll talk to you after I see Sheridan.” I didn’t wait for Craig to say good-bye before I hung up the phone. Bobbi Jo came back in and I realized I hadn’t even known that she’d left the room.
“You okay?” she asked.
“You got any more wine?” I finished the wine in my glass just as Brian knocked on the kitchen door.
Bobbi Jo pushed the wine bottle toward me and waved at Brian to come in. “Hey, Brian, you want some wine?”
“No, thanks.” Brian shuffled his feet, looking around the kitchen. “I didn’t realize you had a visitor. I’ll come back another time.”
“Don’t be silly, Brian. It’s just Skye. And she’s going to be here for a while. Did you want something?”
Brian didn’t say anything so I took the initiative. “I need to call Sheridan, so I’ll do that from my room.” It was obvious that Brian wanted to say something to Bobbi Jo but was uncomfortable saying it in front of me.
I was a little relieved that Sheridan didn’t answer her cell phone and left a message that I’d be there on Sunday morning for a visit. I knew she wouldn’t question it. I’d driven up before just to spend some time with her. That made me feel a little guilty. She would think I was just coming to visit with her and then I’d end up laying this bomb on her. I refused to think about how I was going to scar her for life and returned to the kitchen to find Bobbi Jo staring at the back door.
“Hey, where’s Brian?”
She turned to look at me. “I guess the son of a bitch went back to the guesthouse.”
“Okay. What happened?”
“He just marched his scrawny ass in here to tell me that he’s contesting the will.”
“Contesting the will?”
“Didn’t I just say that?” Bobbi Jo demanded. “The little bastard thinks I somehow influenced his father into setting up the trust fund for him.”
“Maybe it’s just an initial reaction. Maybe the lawyer can explain it to him.”
“I don’t really care if he explains it or not. I had to argue for months with Edward about what he was leaving Brian. If I hadn’t, Brian wouldn’t have half of what he’s got now. Edward was determined to leave Brian a pittance because he’d wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. For God’s sake! It took me forever to convince Edward that there was nothing wrong with Brian being an actor and that it didn’t mean that Brian didn’t love him just because he didn’t want to be in the same business as Edward.”
“It’s probably just a delayed reaction to his father’s death.”
“Well, I’m having a delayed reaction to him being a pain in the ass, which he’s been ever since Edward and I got married. I swear to God, Skye, if he pushes this, I just might have to give him a wake-up call.”
CHAPTER SIX
I left Portland at seven on Sunday morning. Bobbi Jo had offered to come with me, but I’d decided against it because I wasn’t sure Sheridan would be comfortable hearing this with Bobbi Jo there. I pulled up at her dorm less than two hours later. I opened the front door to the dorm and saw Sheridan at the top of the stairs.
“Hey, Mom!” Sheridan hiked her backpack over a shoulder and rushed down the stairs. She gave me a hug and smacked her lips against my cheek.
“Have you lost weight? Your jeans look loose.”
“No, they’re just old. Trust me, I eat like a horse, Mom.” Sheridan closed the door behind us. “So, what’s up? Why did you want to see me today? Or is this just part of the empty-nest thing?”
“Let’s have breakfast. You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
“Sounds great. There’s a pancake house just down the street.”
She looked so happy. How was I going to tell her? Even without any details, she would be devastated. What a great mother I was. Take my kid out to breakfast and rip her world apart. Sheridan was still chattering and I tried to listen to her as I pulled into the restaurant parking lot.
“The show is going to be great. This is the first time I get to sing a solo. You and Dad will be there, right? It’s the second week of August. I forget
the exact date, but I’ll e-mail it to you later.”
“Of course we’ll be there. Have we ever missed one of your performances?”
“Well, Dad has, but not you.”
We settled into a booth and ordered breakfast. I let Sheridan continue chattering until the waitress brought my coffee and Sheridan’s hot chocolate and orange juice.
“So spill,” Sheridan said, stirring the whipped cream into her chocolate. “I can tell you have something to tell me.”
I didn’t feel ready to tell her, but I knew I’d never be ready. “Your father and I—well, we’ve …”
“You’ve what? Mom, you’re acting really nervous. Just spit it out.”
“It’s no act. I am really nervous. I never thought I’d have to do this.” My voice broke and I picked up my coffee, trying to cover it.
“What? Are you guys getting a divorce or something?”
She looked at me for a moment then put her spoon down. “Oh.”
“We’ve separated.” I waited for her reaction. Sheridan’s expression didn’t change so much as it just disappeared. There was no emotion on her face. No surprise, no hurt, no anger. None of the things I’d expected.
“What happened?”
“We’ve just grown apart.” It sounded lame even to me.
“Grown apart? How?”
“It isn’t important, Sheridan.”
“Yes, Mom, it is important.”
“It’s just that some things have come up over the past few months.” It had only been a few weeks, but months sounded better to me somehow. “We’ve discovered that we want different things out of life.” Actually, wasn’t the problem that we both wanted the same thing?
The waitress placed our plates before us and Sheridan spread butter over her French toast and topped it with a generous amount of syrup. I’d ordered fruit and cottage cheese and I didn’t think I’d even be able to eat that. Sheridan popped a bite of food into her mouth and chewed for a moment.
“Like what kind of things?” she asked.
“We just have different interests.”
“You seem to be awfully calm about it.”
“Really? I’ve been a bundle of nerves thinking about telling you.”