by Pamela Crane
She chuckled. “Let’s just say that I’ve forgiven a host of sins, some of which lesser people would kill over, and I’m a better person for it. Forgiveness isn’t for them, it’s for you.”
“Well, maybe I’m not as good a person as you.”
“Yes you are, dear. In fact, you’re better. Look, can we just keep it between us? For now, at least? Oliver has already been through so much with Vera going missing, and he doesn’t need a cheating wife heaped on top of that. It would break him. Just think about it before you say anything.”
But I had already thought about it. Over and over. My husband cheating on me with my sister-in-law. Part of me felt murderous rage; the other part felt a deep sadness, because it was all probably just their twisted grief trying to find a way out. It didn’t make the adultery hurt any less, though.
The porch light flicked on. The front door opened. Cody called out, “Mare, is that you? And…Mom? What are you doing here?”
“We’re just chatting. And I wanted to drop dinner off, dear. I thought you and Marin might like to try this recipe I found. It was one of your great-grandmother Alvera’s favorites. Supposedly it was the last meal she made her family before she disappeared. With everything that’s happened with Vera, it made me think of it.”
It was eerie, the mystery that circled the Portman-Fields family. Cody’s great-grandmother disappearing shortly after giving birth to her first—and only—child. No suspects ever identified. Her body never recovered. Vanished, as if she had never existed. All that remained of her was a recipe.
“That’s so…thoughtful, I guess?” Cody’s compliment lifted with awkward gratitude.
“It’s just food. You’ve got to eat, right?”
“Thanks, Mom. Oh, I might as well tell you both that I just got promoted to manager of a second location.”
Debra brightened. “So you won’t have to sell used cars anymore?”
“Yeah, Mom, the boss knows I’m no great shakes as a salesman, but he likes my personality, my style, and my people skills. The customers seem to like me too. The boss thinks I’ll make a better manager than a salesman.”
“Well…I guess it’s better than nothing. Will it be twice the money?”
“Not yet, but maybe eventually, if the other location does well,” Cody explained.
I felt mortified for Cody, always trying to impress his mother and always failing. Cody could never compete with Oliver, and I understood why. While Cody worked hard, he didn’t have the looks, or the drive, or the natural business sense that his older brother did. While Oliver pursued academia and went on to college earning his bachelor’s in business and working his way up the ladder of a prestigious marketing firm, Cody scraped through high school and flipped burgers to earn cash that he’d blow at the bar. From burger flipping he eventually got nudged into management because his boss saw something in him that Cody didn’t see—something worth more than minimum wage. When he got tired enough of coming home smelling like cooking grease every day, he switched to used cars.
My husband was the ongoing butt of every joke, unable to live down the stigma associated with used car salesmen. Sketchy. Sleazy. He endured the taunts and epithets because he hated his job anyway.
I handed the casserole to Cody and invited Debra to join us.
“No, I already ate hours ago. Plus your father is waiting at home for me. I’ll see you soon.” She kissed Cody on the cheek, gently squeezed my arm, and left.
I followed Cody inside, shutting the darkness out behind me. A trail of cool air swept over my shoulders. It wasn’t much warmer in the house than outside.
“Is the heat working?” I asked.
Cody pressed his fingers against his temple. “I’m working on it, Marin. The furnace broke again.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
When would I catch a break? And then I remembered Mortimer’s inheritance. I could handle a freezing cold house a little longer. I was tempted to tell Cody about it, but I needed to know for sure first. I didn’t want to build him up, only to crush him.
Instead I skipped to the subject poking at my curiosity. “Your mom told me she’s got some big, dark secret. Any idea what it might be?”
“My mom?” Cody chuckled. “No, that woman doesn’t have a secretive bone in her body.”
“It was such a strange thing for her to say. It makes me wonder about her past.”
He picked at his cuticle. “She never talked much about it with us. I’m sure it’s as plain old vanilla as it gets.”
“I don’t know. It’s as if she’s hiding something pretty shady. Though, I guess we’re all hiding things, aren’t we?”
I looked him dead in the eye as I said it, inviting the truth to come out. Here was his chance to right things. I needed to know he would always be honest with me. Hypocritical, I know, given I was hoarding dishonesties, but my lies were different. Mine were to protect everyone.
Cody must have gotten the hint, because he cupped my hand and led me to the living room. He tugged me down onto the sofa beside him, angling his knees toward mine. He hunched over like a question mark. I could feel the guilt unburdening itself as he first examined our hands, still clasped as one, then lifted his eyes to meet mine. I suddenly felt afraid.
“Marin, honey, I have something to tell you. And I’m terrified that it will ruin us, but I can’t keep it from you anymore.”
And I waited for my world to blow up.
Chapter 27
Felicity
Four is the number of bedtime stories I read to Sydney before she fell asleep. Three is the number of piles of dog poop Ploppy—the cringeworthy but apt name became permanent, over my protests—left on the floor when I got downstairs. Two is the number of times Eliot got out of bed whining that he was hungry, then thirsty. One is the number of looks Oliver gave me when I finally settled into bed next to him and told him there was something very very wrong with him.
I only needed that one look to know I had hurt him.
I didn’t care. It needed to be said.
My husband was communicating with my daughter’s ghost.
I touched the empty space on my finger where my engagement ring used to hug, the ring Oliver sold his 1957 Corvette graduation gift for, back when we were still practically kids and lived off ramen noodles. The ring now sat taunting me from the French country accent table I’d fallen in love with during our Parisian honeymoon. When a sudden downpour pelted the cobblestone streets of Le Marais, we escaped into the vintage boutique, soaked in rain and romance. When my gaze rested on that tiny, round table, Oliver insisted I have it, shipping costs be damned. We arrived home three weeks later to find the package outside our South Side apartment doorstep, and inside, a rat infestation from the Dumpster behind our building. By the time the landlord exterminated the rats, we were in escrow on our first real home together, starry-eyed with baby fever and passion.
When the baby didn’t immediately happen and the passion faded, we had loyalty to hold us close.
Now that loyalty was gone.
“I read all the texts from Vera.” I paused. “Well, from Vera’s phone. You know that’s sick, what you’re doing, right?”
Shame pushed his face down in a frown.
“It’s the only thing I have left of her, Felicity.”
“But it’s not her. It’s her phone. And her phone could lead us to her. Whoever is texting you is messing with you. Clearly it’s some deranged person playing with your emotions.”
“No, it’s a girl who misses her dead father, Felicity.” Then Oliver proceeded to show me a succession of back-and-forth replies:
Oliver: You’re not my daughter Vera, are you?
Fake Vera: No. Just like you’re not my dad. But it feels real, doesn’t it?
Oliver: How did you get this cell phone number?
Fake Vera: I found the phone in the woods and kept it. When you texted me, you sounded so much like my dad. He died recen
tly, but it just felt comforting to believe he’s out there missing me too. I’m sorry. I should have said something sooner.
Oliver: No, don’t apologize. It’s helped me too. My daughter went missing and you remind me of her.
Fake Vera: I hope she comes home. You seem like a great dad.
Oliver: I don’t know. I wonder if I’m the reason she left.
Fake Vera: She’s lucky to have you. I’d give anything to get my dad back.
Oliver: I’d give anything to get my daughter back too.
Fake Vera: You’re probably the only person in the world who understands me.
Oliver: Losing someone you love is the heaviest burden one can bear. Hang in there, kid.
Oliver had never gotten her name, just as he had never told her his. The texts continued on for weeks, sharing details about school, books, movies, favorite foods, favorite music…just like they had been father and daughter in another life on another plane. It would have been sweet had it not been so creepy.
“You think this is healthy?”
“I’m not saying it’s normal, but it’s clearly helping this poor girl. And me too. I don’t know how else to explain it, Felicity.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were communicating with Vera’s phone all this time? And why didn’t you tell the cops? They need to see these texts. She found Vera’s phone—which means Vera was wherever this girl found it. That’s helpful information for tracing her movements.”
“First of all, she only found the phone three months ago. And if I ask her who she is and where she lives, it might freak her out. I don’t want to spook her. She’s a young girl.”
How was Oliver so dense? “I don’t give a crap about that girl. If it’s a clue to finding Vera, we need to follow up on it!”
“You realize she found the phone months after Vera disappeared, right? Vera was probably long gone by then. And besides, the cops were already tracking the phone for the first three months and saw no activity, no location, nothing. I’m telling you, pinning down this girl isn’t going to lead us to Vera.”
He could be right, but he could also be wrong. Vera’s phone usage had been a dead end back when she first left. No unfamiliar calls, no unusual texts. The police spent weeks tracing her cell phone, following up on all her past text and call history, but no leads came of it. Then no phone activity for three months. Which led them to believe it had been wiped and tossed, and that’s when they stopped putting manpower hours into following up on it.
In fact, Vera didn’t call or text her secret boyfriend or best friend. According to the police, she could have been communicating with them via a number of instant message apps, but without knowing all of her social profiles, there was no way to know. Her phone was the key, because her whole life was on it. Every app she used, her search history, everything. Unless this mystery girl knew how to completely wipe a phone, there could be something on there.
“I still don’t understand how chatting with a strange man pretending to be her dead father helps.”
Oliver shook his head. “You of all people should know that everyone grieves differently.”
“That may be, but you still need to show the police all of this. Right now it’s the only lead we have. She could be lying and in fact be a he who abducted our daughter. Please, Oliver, for your daughter. For me.”
There was no other way to put it plainly. Oliver wasn’t thinking straight. He was mentally replacing this girl with Vera, and it was beginning to worry me. Not only because it wasn’t Vera, but because the person on the other side might be responsible for what happened to Vera.
“What if I don’t want to stop?” His voice was thick with sadness. “What if I stop and I never hear from Vera again? If the texts disappear, it’s like Vera disappears with them. It’s my only connection to her.”
“Exactly, Oliver. It’s our only connection to Vera, so we have to know who is on the other side. Don’t you get it? Because of this, Vera could be dead! You’ve been hiding this from me, from the police, for weeks, and it could have cost our daughter her life! I’m going to the police with this, and you better tell the police everything, Oliver. We can’t keep anything from them.”
Except for the one big secret I was keeping from everyone. Oh yeah, make that two secrets.
Oliver snuffled, handed me his phone. “Fine. Do what you need to do.”
It pained me to watch my strong, sturdy husband wilt. While he clung to some make-believe fantasy that this texter was a connection to Vera, I clung to the reality that our daughter was out there…and someone had her phone, her lifeline. Whoever was texting Oliver was toying with him, enjoying this sadistic game. But I’d had three kids and knew all about games.
Game over.
Chapter 28
Marin
“Marin, honey, I have something to tell you.” I couldn’t tell if it was me trembling or Cody’s voice. “And I’m terrified that it will ruin us, but I can’t keep it from you anymore.”
His tiny gasping breaths filled the short silence as I waited. He was nervous. Terrified. Regretful. All the same feelings pouring over onto me.
I knew exactly what he was about to say. That he cheated on me with Felicity.
I knew exactly how I would reply. A slap on the face and the classic one-two punch of how could you? And what were you thinking?
I knew exactly how I would feel. Heartbrokenly angry.
I had played the scene in my head often enough. I was prepared for this moment. And then I realized…
I knew exactly nothing as I blurted out, “Whatever it is you have to tell me, I don’t want to know.”
I couldn’t hear it. The moment it slipped from Cody’s lips, I would have a decision to make. A punishment to execute. A marriage to abandon. A sin to announce to the whole family. I didn’t want any of that. I wanted blissful ignorance and my deserved happily ever after with a husband who adored me, a family who enfolded me, and Mortimer’s inheritance.
Please, Cody, don’t take that all away from me.
“I can’t keep this from you, Marin.”
It was a no-win Sophie’s choice. No matter what I picked, we all would suffer. Choose to live in a lie to keep the family together, or choose the freedom of truth that tears the family apart.
I decided to beat him to the punchline. “I forgive you for cheating on me with Felicity.”
Cody sat there, mouth agape. “You already know about the kiss?”
“I don’t just know about it, Cody. I saw it. I’m guessing there was a lot more than just a kiss?”
“No, I swear, nothing else happened. We kissed, Felicity tried to convince me to go upstairs with her, but then we just sat on the stairs while she cried. That’s all. I promise you.” I saw honesty in his unwavering gaze, felt it in his warm palm as he slipped his fingers through mine.
“You didn’t sleep with her?”
“No, I could never do that to you. I love you more than everything. It was just a kiss and her sobbing on the stairs while I listened, the whole time feeling awful about it.”
Then came the one-two punch: “How could you do this? What were you thinking?”
He ran his other hand through his hair, resting it on his forehead, shadowing his eyes. “I’m not going to make excuses for what I did, Marin. I wasn’t thinking—that’s just it. I could blame it on the alcohol, on Felicity’s begging, on grief…but it was not about you. You’ve always been perfect, always been an incredible wife. I don’t deserve you; I’ve known this from the moment I saw you that even if I did somehow miraculously win your heart, I wouldn’t be good enough. Not because you make me feel less than good enough, but because you’re just so…everything.” He rambled on as he leaned into his plea. “I know I screwed up, and I’m sorry, Marin. I’ll leave if you want me to, or stay if you want me to. Whatever you want, I’m willing to do. I just hope I can earn back your trust.”
I crossed my arms. “Why should I ever tr
ust you again, Cody?”
“Honestly, you shouldn’t. You should find a better man. But I’ll spend my life trying to make up for this. I’ll do anything to fix this. Even if it means never seeing Felicity again. You’re my family, you’re my future. I’d give everything else up for you.”
I believed him. He’d been doing it since day one, putting me before everything else, even when I didn’t want him to.
“I just want to understand…why? Why did it happen? Do you have feelings for her?”
He gave a short never-in-a-million-years laugh. “No, never. We had our shot years ago and I knew even back then it wasn’t like that.”
“What? You two were…together?” This was news I should have heard before now.
“Oh, God, no, not like that. Only one time, and it was just…empty. No chemistry.”
“Alright, you’re going to have to give more detail than that. What happened between you two?”
Then Cody told me a story. A story that shocked me.
It was the story of a college freshman girl at the University of Pittsburgh meeting a fry cook at an Oakland bar. Their chance meeting bloomed into an instant friendship as Felicity unburdened her woes on Cody, feeding his ears—and ego—with her disappointments in life. He saved her that night, because their meeting would months later lead her to his handsome Dean’s List older brother Oliver. The man she would ditch Cody for and follow to the ends of the earth.
That night Cody introduced the two, a third wheel too blind to recognize he was unwanted, while Felicity and Oliver drifted closer and closer together, eventually pushing him out. By the end of the night Cody was sitting on the curb outside watching his brother steal his almost-girlfriend.
It had been a sore spot at first, a sibling rivalry that had always been simmering and then came to a boil. But eventually all was forgiven, not quite forgotten, as Felicity and Oliver said their “I do’s” with Cody standing in as the supportive Best Man.