The Wife Stalker

by Liv Constantine

  Rebecca’s routine rarely varied, and I knew that she did the grocery shopping on Wednesdays and Fridays, hitting Fleishers butcher in Saugatuck last. When I pulled into the parking lot of the shop, I saw her red Honda CRV parked there, but all the other spaces were filled. I anxiously circled the block three times before a black Mercedes finally pulled out of Fleishers’ parking lot and I was able to grab its spot. By that point Rebecca was coming out of the store, two brown paper bags in her hands. I jumped out of my car and walked over to her.

  She looked up, her eyes wide in surprise. “Joanna. What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  She looked around nervously, then nodded.

  I followed her to her car and waited while she put the bags in the back. She turned to face me. “How are you?” she asked, her eyes kind.

  I felt mine fill. “I’m really worried about Stelli and Evie. I’ve found out some things about Piper.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “What?”

  “She was married before. Twice. Both of her husbands died. One fell off a cliff. The other died in a sailing accident along with his daughter while she was with them. The police couldn’t make anything stick, but they definitely suspected foul play.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my . . . that’s horrible. Does Leo know?”

  I shook my head. “I can’t get through to him. I printed out the articles and mailed them to his office, but I don’t know whether or not his new assistant gave them to him. You’re my only hope. Has she done anything worrisome that you’ve seen?”

  She bit her lip. “Well, not worrisome so much as insensitive. She and I had a run-in when she tried to get rid of some furniture without telling the children first.”

  My blood boiled. She was already redecorating the house. “The kids must have been awfully upset.”

  Rebecca nodded. “Although in her defense, once she saw how upset they were, she sent it all back.” She hesitated then went on. “One other thing. She insisted on taking over making the kids’ lunches and afternoon snacks. Stelli has been getting a lot of stomachaches lately.”

  “What do you mean? Do you think she’s putting something in the food to make him sick?”

  “Well . . . I wouldn’t go that far.” Rebecca put a hand up, suddenly appearing worried again. “I’ve really said too much.”

  “Can you get Leo to call me? Please? I need to tell him about her past.”

  “I don’t know, Joanna. Maybe he already knows about her past. I mean, if nothing was proven against her, maybe she was just really unlucky. I’m already on thin ice with her, and if I go accusing her of things, I could lose my job.”

  I thought for a moment. She was probably right, and if she was fired, then the kids would have no one else at the house looking out for them. “Okay, listen. Can you please be extra vigilant? Watch out for them and call me the minute you see anything suspicious. I’ll have to try to figure out something else in the meantime.”

  She nodded. “I’ll do my best.” She leaned over and hugged me. “Take care of yourself, Joanna. It was good to see you.”

  At least I’d put Rebecca on alert. I could only hope she’d be able to protect them. That and I would continue watching from afar. Maybe I could even get Ava to call Leo, try to make him see the light. I’d call her later and see if she would. Something had to work. Leo was a good father, a better father than I’d ever had. Despite all his faults, he would always take care of his children—unlike my own father, who’d left me to deal with my mother and never looked back. I tried to forget about him, not to care since he so obviously didn’t care for me, but I found that I couldn’t put my father out of my mind.

  Over the years, I’d started obsessing over the woman who had lured him away from us. When I was in my twenties, I decided I needed to see her for myself. I found out that he was living in Woodstock, New York. He’d been careless when he put the return address on a tax document he’d sent to my mother. I drove there on a Saturday, expecting a little cottage in the woods somewhere, so it was quite a surprise to see a beautiful wood house built high on a hill. It had to have been at least four thousand square feet, with multiple decks overlooking a lake. There were no cars in the driveway, and I debated getting out and taking a look around, but in the end I just got back in my car and drove into town. I wandered in and out of the shops, wondering if I’d run into him.

  I asked around, figuring everyone knew everyone, and finally a waitress at a cute little restaurant called Bread Alone told me that he and his wife owned a little bakery called A Bun in the Oven, a few doors down. I went to take a peek inside and saw a friendly-looking woman behind the counter. The shop was crowded, and I went in, looking at the items in the glass display case. I watched her as she interacted with a customer. She hadn’t turned out to be the siren I expected the other woman to be. Just an average-looking lady in her forties, not all that much younger than my mom. Her brown hair was short and pushed behind her ears, and she wore no makeup except for a light pink lipstick. What made her stand out were her beautiful blue eyes. When she smiled and spoke to customers, they sparkled with kindness and good humor—so very different from my mother’s usual expression. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I could understand just from her demeanor why my father would have been drawn to her, but it still didn’t excuse his lying and duplicity, and it certainly didn’t excuse his abandoning his only child and adopting another woman’s. I couldn’t bring myself to buy anything, not wanting to waste a cent on either of them. I turned and left without a word.

  39

  Piper

  The mouthwatering aroma of chocolate chip cookies filled the kitchen, and Piper checked the timer—ten minutes to go. Rebecca was picking the children up from school today, and the treats would come out of the oven, warm and delicious, just as they got home. She set out two small plates, two glasses, and two napkins on the kitchen table.

  She heard their voices even before the door leading to the garage opened, and a moment later, they burst into the room, backpacks flung off their shoulders and coats shrugged off.

  “What smells so good?” Stelli asked, his eyes on the baking sheet cooling on a rack. “Chocolate chips! Can I have some?”

  “Of course. I baked them for you and Evie. But first, you need to drink your smoothies. We need to make sure you get your vitamins, too.” She handed them each a glass.

  Stelli made a face. “Do I have to? I got a stomachache the last time.”

  Piper nodded. “That’s only because you’re not used to so many fruits and vegetables, which is not good. Drink up, and then you can have a cookie. It’s a small glass.” He put his mouth around the straw and drank. Piper watched to make sure they both finished, then put the plate down in front of them. “Now you can have cookies.” She looked over at the nanny. “How about you, Rebecca—would you like one?”

  “No, thank you. If you’re okay with the children, I wouldn’t mind checking my emails.”

  “Certainly. We’re fine. You go ahead,” Piper said.

  “These taste different,” Stelli said, still chewing.

  “I used carob chips instead of chocolate. They’re healthier.” She didn’t mention that she’d also substituted honey for the sugar and coconut flour for the wheat. Their palates were definitely accustomed to junk.

  Stelli took another bite. “They’re okay, I guess.”

  “Can I help you next time?” Evie asked.

  “Absolutely. I would love that.”

  Just then, the head of the maid service that came twice a week entered the kitchen to let her know she was leaving. Piper grabbed her wallet and followed the woman to the door to pay her. When Piper walked back to the kitchen, she heard the children talking and hung back.

  “These cookies aren’t as good as Mommy’s,” Stelli told his sister.

  “They’re pretty good,” Evie said.

  There was a long silence, and then Stelli spoke again. “I hate it here without her.” H
e sounded angry.

  “I know,” Evie said. “But we have to get used to it. She’s never coming back.”

  “Why not? My Sunday school teacher said that Jesus died and came back. Maybe Mommy could come back, too.”

  “I don’t know, Stelli. I don’t think so.”

  “She will. I know she will.” Piper could hear the quavering in his voice, as if he were about to cry.

  “Don’t you remember? Dad said she’s never coming back. And anyway, Piper is here now. What would she do if Mommy came back?”

  “Who cares about stupid Piper? She could go away.”

  Piper closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. Every time she thought she took a step forward with Stelli, she immediately took three steps back. He was almost worse than Mia—at least with Mia, though, Piper had always known where she stood. She guessed it was true about the connection between boys and their mothers.

  It bothered her that he was building a fairy tale in his head. Even though he was only six, it wasn’t healthy. She and Leo would have to figure out how to put these childish fantasies to rest once and for all.

  She stood a moment longer, until they’d stopped talking, and entered the room. “Well,” she said, trying to keep her voice bright, “looks like you’re all finished. Why don’t you go upstairs and change, and then you can go outside and play?”

  Stelli was up and out of the room in a flash, but his sister lingered. “Thanks, Piper. The cookies were really good.”

  Piper smiled at her. She was such a lovely child, who was obviously missing her mom, too, but wanted to be kind to Piper. Stelli’s backpack still lay on the floor where he’d dropped it, and Piper picked it up and pulled out his lunch box. He’d left carrots and a half-eaten box of raisins in it, which she removed, then wiped out the inside.

  She put the lunch box aside and checked Stelli’s backpack to see if there were any notices from school. A folded piece of paper lay on top—a note about a field trip to the Bronx Zoo, asking for money and chaperones. Maybe she would try to arrange her schedule to sign up for that, she thought, putting the paper on the counter next to her phone. She smiled as she pulled out three small army men and a few Legos. There were also two library books and a crumpled crayon drawing, which she smoothed out—a large orange pumpkin with smaller pumpkins around it—a drawing for, obviously, Halloween. And then her fingers skimmed a small slick square of card stock, and she pulled it out. She looked with dismay at the photograph of their mother.

  For the rest of the afternoon, while Rebecca played outside with the children, Piper was online in her study, reading articles and studies on talking to children about the death of a parent. She was still in front of her laptop at seven, when Rebecca fed the children dinner and took them upstairs for their baths. She didn’t turn off the computer until they came downstairs in their pajamas, freshly scrubbed and ready for bed. By the time she had finished, she felt she had some concrete information to give Leo when he got home from a late meeting at the office tonight. After tucking the kids into bed, she decided she could use a long relaxing bath. As the tub filled, she lit a few candles and put on the classical station she liked. The house was quiet except for the strains of classical music coming from the speakers, and she lowered herself into the warm water. All the tension left her body as she soaked, her head resting on a bath pillow, her eyes closed, and her nostrils filled with the soothing smell of sage from the burning candles. She concentrated on her breathing—in through her nose and out through her mouth—emptying her head of all troubling thoughts.

  When she finally rose from the water, it was close to nine. Leo would be home soon. She gently massaged hempseed oil all over her body and slipped into a nightgown and robe. While the cookies had been baking earlier, she’d made a big pot of red lentil soup, knowing that he would probably want a light dinner at such a late hour. She was in the kitchen heating it up when he came in, and she turned the flame off and went to him.

  “Mmm. You smell delicious,” he said, drawing her into a hug.

  She kissed him and took a step back. “Sit. I’ve just warmed some soup for you.”

  “That sounds great.” He sat.

  “How was your meeting?” she asked, as she placed the soup and a bowl of kale chips in front of him.

  “Good. We finally have that Sanders case figured out. It’s horrifying what that poor woman went through. Her husband abused her for years, and she was too terrified to leave because of all his connections in law enforcement. She doesn’t deserve to be in jail for what she did. I had three different psychologists talk to her, and they all agree that she was in the grips of PTSD when she killed him.”

  “She’s lucky that you’re generous enough to take her case pro bono.”

  “She deserves a good defense, and the state is not easy on cases like this. They don’t want to appear as though they condone vigilante justice. But she really feared for her children’s lives and her own.”

  Piper nodded and listened as he went on. If work was going to keep him away from home so much, she was glad that at least it was for a worthwhile cause. When he finished his meal, they cleared the dishes together, and he pulled her into another embrace before they turned out the kitchen light. “Thank you for dinner. I’m going to go shower. Meet you in bed?” he mumbled, as he kissed her neck.

  They went hand in hand up the stairs, and Piper waited with some trepidation as he showered. She was sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the bedroom fireplace when he emerged from the bathroom. “Come and sit with me for a few minutes. I want to talk to you.”

  He frowned. “Something wrong?”

  “Well, not wrong exactly. But there is something we need to address.”

  She recounted the conversation between Stelli and Evie this afternoon. “I’m concerned about how we handle this going forward.”

  He sighed. “Piper, we’ve gone over this. You have to stop taking it personally. It’s natural for him to miss his mother. Time will ease his sense of loss.”

  She felt her face grow hot. She couldn’t let herself lose her temper. That would only alienate him, make him less likely to listen to what she was going to suggest. “Yes. Time will certainly help. But in the meantime, there is something we can and should do.”

  He looked dubious.

  “Hear me out. I still think Stelli should see a therapist. I know you’ve been balking at it, but you remember what the principal said. He’s still got a lot of anger that he needs to find a way to release. And he needs to let go of Joanna as well. Even though I’m not his real mother, he needs to see me as a mother figure. It’s important if we’re going to be a happy family.”

  “But a therapist will be invasive. Given that we haven’t exactly told the kids the truth about their mother, how would we handle that? I don’t want this person to judge us.”

  She’d thought about that already, but she paused briefly before answering. “Look, all we have to say is that she died and Stelli is having a hard time accepting it. And a therapist could help him to be less hostile toward me. Evie’s accepted me, and it’s time for Stelli to do the same.”

  “I just don’t know about Stelli talking to a stranger about—”

  “Trust me. It will be good for them, you’ll see. We have to make Stelli truly understand that she’s not coming back, that it’s impossible. Right now, it’s like he’s waiting for her to walk in the door. It’s not good for him.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  “One other thing,” she started.

  He raised his eyebrows. “What?”

  “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, but I think maybe we should start replacing some of the photos around the house with ones of the four of us.”

  He started to speak, and she put a hand up.

  “I’m not saying we need to get rid of all the pictures of her, but it’s not healthy for them to see her face wherever they turn.”

  His face softened. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about it
that way.”

  Piper was relieved. “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” She rose from the chair and let her robe drop. “Now”—she leaned down and gave him a long kiss—“let’s go to bed.”

  40

  Joanna

  I planned to leave early tomorrow for the five-hour drive to Annapolis. When I’d called Ethan’s mother, Trish, pretending to be the sister of Pamela’s, a.k.a. Piper’s, fiancé, I told her that I was concerned Pamela was still heartbroken over what had happened with Ethan, thinking that would make Trish more likely to talk to me. Sure enough, she told me she’d be happy to meet with me. I didn’t want to ask too much on the phone, so I made arrangements to go to their house. I didn’t mention that Pamela had changed her name, of course, and I thought again about Reynard. I reread the definition I’d found when she first came into our lives, which I’d recently printed out and taped to the wall.

  Though Reynard is sly, amoral, cowardly, and self-seeking, he is still a sympathetic hero, whose cunning is a necessity for survival.

  Sly, amoral, and self-seeking certainly fit the bill. The coward part I still had to figure out. But sympathetic hero? Hell no.

  Before I went any farther down this rabbit hole, I had to go. I had an appointment with Celeste, and though she’d asked last week if we could devote this session to talking about my father, the new information on Piper was all I could think about.

  When Celeste called me in, I took a seat, eager to get started.

  “Thank you for the email,” she said. She’d asked me to write up a timeline on my father’s departure and our scant contact since. “I’d like to talk about some of the similarities between Leo and your father. How about we explore those today?”

  “Before we get to that, I’d like to get your take on some new information I found.” Celeste nodded, though I was already plowing ahead. “I’ve discovered that Piper was married at least two times before Leo.”

  She nodded again. “Go on.”