“Ah, for once you’re showing some insight.”
“You were never interested in therapy,” Celeste said, shaking her head. “You didn’t actually want help.”
“If I had, I’d have chosen someone who knew what she was doing. Tell Daddy I said hello.” Before she could respond, I called the guard and then turned to her. “You can go now.”
Finally, the playing field was leveled. If I had to lose everything, so did she.
55
Piper
Piper nestled against Leo as they sat on the sofa and watched the children work on a jigsaw puzzle together. Snow had been falling since late morning, and when she’d peered outside after sunset, there was already a five-inch accumulation, with no letup in sight. A wood fire crackled and gave the room a cozy glow on this wintry evening. She smiled and closed her eyes in pure contentment.
“Piper, look, we’re almost finished,” Stelli’s voice broke through the silence.
She opened her eyes and tried to sit up, but excruciating pain shot through her shoulder, taking her breath away. Sweat broke out across her forehead, and she sat still for a moment. The doctors had told her that a shattered humerus would hamper the movement and use of her shoulder for a long time. She’d been lucky, though, that the bullet hadn’t severed an artery or hit the nerves in her upper shoulder. She might have bled to death or lost the use of her arm permanently.
She looked at Stelli. “Wow! What a great job. It’s fabulous.”
He grinned at her, and Piper was gratified by the happiness she saw in his eyes. So much of what had lain at the root of Stelli’s fears had come out after that awful day in Maine. Had it really been only three weeks ago? It seemed like years now, but she remembered the details with stunning clarity.
The night following Piper’s release from the hospital, the children had come downstairs in their pajamas, ready for bed, and Stelli had crawled onto Piper’s lap, careful not to touch her shoulder. Evie wiggled in between Piper and Leo.
“You saved me,” Stelli said, his big brown eyes staring at her.
She gave him a warm smile. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”
“Are you going to stay with us forever, Piper?” Evie had asked.
“Yes, Evie, I am.”
“Mommy left,” Stelli said.
“Mommy didn’t want to leave, Stelli,” Leo said. “It was an accident.”
Stelli sat up, his eyes wide. “Joanna said Mommy told her she was going to go away ’cause she wanted Joanna to be our mommy. But I don’t want Joanna.”
Leo and Piper had exchanged glances.
“Joanna was just confused. Mommy never told her that,” Leo said.
“Mommy was sad, though. She cried a lot, and that made me sad, too,” Evie said, tears filling her eyes.
“I still don’t like those trails,” he’d told Piper. “Mommy told me there are monsters at the bottom. They make you jump and then they eat you.”
Piper was shocked that his mother would have told him something so frightening. “That’s not true, Stelli. There are no monsters.”
He’d looked at her imploringly. “Mommy told me she could hear them. They said her name.”
So that was it, she’d thought. No wonder this poor child had trembled in terror at the thought of hiking those trails. She should have talked to him and explored the reasons for his fear. So much could have been avoided if she had.
“Stelli, you know how sometimes you hear the waves splashing against the rocks or you hear the ducks quacking or a bird singing, and it sounds like they’re saying a real word?”
He nodded.
“Well, it’s just our minds telling us that. Because we know that water can’t really say things, and birds and ducks don’t know how to speak our language, and monsters are only make-believe. Right?”
He fixed his eyes on Piper’s, seeming to think this over, and then slowly nodded his head. “Right.”
“You see, your mommy only thought she heard her name.” Piper paused. “Stelli, I need to apologize to you.”
His eyes grew wide.
“I didn’t understand what you were going through, and I pushed you too hard. I promise to do better, to be more patient. And I know I can never take the place of your mommy, but I want to do a good job and be like a mommy to you, if you’ll let me.” She noticed the look of gratitude on Leo’s face.
Stelli thought about that a moment. “Will you stop making me drink those smoothies and eat yucky stuff?”
She laughed. “Yes. No more yucky health food for you, I promise.”
That night had been the real beginning for all of them, but especially for Piper. She’d steeped herself in self-help advice and often flippant bromides. She’d even chosen Reynard, an old Germanic name, because of its meaning: counsel and strong. She’d been overcompensating for a childhood that had been sterile and bereft of any tenderness or affection. She had never been taught that the true essence of the relationship between a parent and a child was understanding and acceptance. She had to stop trying to make others into what she wanted them to be. It sounded so simplistic, even trite. But she knew now that she had to stop, let go of her past, and move fearlessly into the future.
Piper smiled. She would do her best to help Stelli overcome the anxiety that had tied him up in knots these past few years. She was thinking of selling the Phoenix Recovery Center and starting a new counseling practice here. But first, she had to recover.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” Leo said. “Why don’t you two go see how Yiayia’s doing in the kitchen?” Leo said.
They ran off together, leaving Piper and Leo alone. He took her hand in his. “Do you know how much I love you?” He leaned toward her and kissed her lightly on the lips. “You saved Stelli’s life. And risked your own.”
“Stelli has taught me a lot. I saw myself as so evolved and wise. Don’t get me wrong—I worked hard to bring myself out of deep grief and self-hatred after Ethan’s and then Matthew’s and Mia’s deaths. But I got a little too cocky, threw around a lot of high-sounding advice without putting anything into action. I want the children to be able to come to us with all their hopes and dreams and fears. I was never able to do that with my own parents, and I won’t let the same thing happen to Evie and Stelli.”
“You’re incredible. The kids are so lucky. And so am I.”
She smiled at him and rose from the sofa. “I’m going to see how your mom’s doing with dinner.”
The children burst out of the kitchen just as Piper entered it. “Whoa, where are you off to?”
“Yiayia said dinner’s ready and to get you and Daddy,” Evie said.
Piper laughed. “Okay. Go get your father.”
She walked over to the stove, where Evangelia was stirring a pot of heavenly-smelling soup. “That smells wonderful. Lemons?”
“Avgolemono. Egg and lemon soup,” she said. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“Starving,” Piper said.
Leo’s mother had come to stay with the children while Piper was in the hospital. She had come up to Piper’s bedside the first night after she’d been released. Pulling a chair next to the bed, she had reached for her daughter-in-law’s hand. “I’m so sorry, pethi mou, I misjudged you terribly.”
Piper had been pleased by the sincerity in Evangelia’s tone and her use of the affectionate term, my child.
“We all made wrong judgments. There were so many things I didn’t know. I wish . . .” Piper stopped, too choked with emotion to go on.
Evangelia shook her head. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t upset yourself. The important thing is to move forward. You are strong. Just what the children need. And what Leo needs. I will never forget that you risked your life to save my grandson.” She’d squeezed Piper’s hand. “You are my daughter now.”
All Piper had ever wanted was a mother who loved her, who would take care of her. “I would like that very much,” she said.
“Kala, good. No more misunderstandings between us. If you have
a problem with me, you tell me. I do the same. Now, is okay for me to come for a few days to take care of you until you’re on your feet again?”
“I would love that,” Piper had answered. Now Piper put a hand on her mother-in-law’s back.
Evangelia turned from the stove. “Go sit. You mustn’t tire yourself. I’m here to help, remember?” Her voice was stern, but she gave Piper a warm smile.
“Okay.”
Leo and the kids were waiting in the dining room, and he pulled out a chair for her. Evangelia came in with the soup and set it down on the table.
“Who wants to help Yiayia get everything else?”
Stelli jumped up. “I will.”
How different he was after everything they’d gone through. They had turned a corner and the old bratty Stelli was gone. Piper leaned back in the chair, her shoulder beginning to throb. She’d declined prescription meds, having seen too many people quickly become addicted to them. The ibuprofen took the edge off, but it didn’t eliminate the pain.
“You okay?” Leo asked.
She shook her head. “Yes. Just hurts a little, but I’ll be okay.”
Evangelia and Stelli returned with bread and the soup.
“Thank you again, for everything, Evangelia,” Piper said.
“It is my pleasure, sweetheart.” She stopped a minute, then continued. “I know it is not the custom in America anymore”—she held up a hand—“and is okay if you don’t want, but I would love if you would call me Mom.”
The children both looked at Piper expectantly, and she hesitated only a moment. “Thank you, Mom.”
Evangelia smiled. “Who says the grace?”
“Can I?” Stelli asked.
“Yes, of course,” Leo answered.
“Thank you for this food and for keeping us safe. Please take care of Mommy in heaven and thank you for giving us Piper to take care of us. Amen.” He got up from his chair and went to Piper, pulling something from his pocket. “I took this. I’m sorry.” His eyes were wide, his small hand trembling as he held the glass rhinoceros out to her.
This was a good sign that he was learning, admitting he’d done wrong.
“Thank you, Stelli,” she said gently. “You hold on to him right now, and when we finish dinner, we’ll put him back with his other animal friends. If you’d like, you can keep the collection in your room. I think they would like it there.” She looked around the table at each of them. These two young children whose lives had been so deeply affected by their mother’s mental illness; Leo, the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with; and his mother, who wanted to be a mother to her, too. She knew without question that this was her family now. Her perfect family. The one she’d been searching for all along. Perfect. Not like the others, whose flaws and imperfections had brought them tragedy. This time was different. This time they would all be good. And nothing bad would ever happen.
Otherwise, she’d have to start all over again.
Acknowledgments
As Piper would tell you—the attitude of gratitude is the highest yoga (Yogi Bhajan). But in all seriousness, we are truly grateful for the many people without whom this book would not be a reality.
First, to our brilliant editor, Emily Griffin: we are so lucky to have a partner who understands and refines our vision and voice. You make our words so much better than they would be if left unattended. It is a rare gift to work with someone in whose wisdom and instincts we wholeheartedly trust. Boundless thanks to the amazing team at HarperCollins. To our fabulous publicist, Heather Drucker: your passion and talent always yield amazing results and you take such good care of us—thank you from the bottom of our hearts. Appreciation to Katie O’Callaghan for your creativity and dedication to marketing excellence. We are deeply grateful to the HarperCollins global publishing partners for making our work available to readers all over the world. Huge thanks to Jimmy Iacobelli for designing a cover we instantly fell madly in love with. To Amber Oliver for all you do behind the scenes. To Virginia Stanley and your team: thank you for your kindness and continual enthusiasm—you are our champions. And as always, deepest gratitude to Jonathan Burnham and Doug Jones for your continued faith in us and our work.
To our exceptional agent and friend, Bernadette Baker-Baughman: what can we say but we love you to pieces and couldn’t imagine anyone better to walk beside us on this exciting journey. To Victoria Sanders: thank you for treating us like family and for always making us laugh with your killer sense of humor. To Diane Dickensheid, Jessica Spivey, and Allison Leshowitz: thanks for all you do to support us.
To our film agent, Dana Spector at CAA: tremendous thanks for your passion, dedication, and brilliant negotiating. We couldn’t be in better hands.
To Gretchen Stelter, always our first reader and editor: deepest thanks for your friendship, guidance, and keen insights. You navigate us to our true north.
Much appreciation to good friend Carmen Marcano Davis, PhD, for taking the time to vet our psychological profiles and for assuring us we are not unbalanced when you hear our plots. To partner-in-crime and fellow author Wendy Walker: thank you for help with family law questions and for always being a phone call away for encouragement and advice. Gratitude to our dear cousin, Leo Manta, for instruction and help with sailing terms and all things nautical and for being one of our biggest cheerleaders.
To the community of author friends we gather with each year at ThrillerFest: we are so grateful for all of you and the mutual support and encouragement we have found in our thriller family over the years.
To our readers: your support means the world to us. We hope that we continue to entertain and surprise you. Heartfelt thanks!
None of this would be possible without the love and support of our families. Thank you for tirelessly listening to story ideas, for understanding when we’re locked away for hours at a time, and for everything that you do. We love you!
About the Author
Liv Constantine is the pen name of sisters Lynne Constantine and Valerie Constantine. Separated by three states, they spend hours plotting via FaceTime and burning up each other’s email inboxes. They attribute their ability to concoct dark story lines to the hours they spent listening to tales handed down by their Greek grandmother. You can find more about them at: livconstantine.com.
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Also by Liv Constantine
The Last Mrs. Parrish
The Last Time I Saw You
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
the wife stalker. Copyright © 2020 by Lynne Constantine and Valerie Constantine. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
first edition
Cover design by James Iacobelli
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data has been applied for.
Digital Edition May 2020 ISBN: 978-0-06-296730-5
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-296728-2
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The Wife Stalker Page 26