Evidence of Life - By Barbara Taylor Sissel Page 0,106
not go there.”
“But how can we not? You think I saw them together and I didn’t.”
“I know. Sondra told me she was in the courthouse, in the restroom, when you ran into Nick. She said it shook him up.”
“It should have.”
A pause perched as light and anxious as a tiny hunted bird.
Abby broke it. “Not all of it was a fantasy. He was with her, Kate, I mean, as in—”
“I know what you mean, chickie.” Kate’s voice was full; she felt Abby’s pain. She would hold Abby’s heart while it broke or until it mended or both, if she could.
“I finally talked to Hank the other day.”
“Did he know where Sondra had been since the flood?”
“Not really. He said she had friends in San Antonio and she had the cabin. Apparently, she didn’t say much about anything when she first came home, but she did see a psychiatrist, and he prescribed medication. Hank said she took it for a while, and it seemed to make her better. Clearer, at least, until she went off it. He said they talked in a way, were honest with each other, in a way they hadn’t been in years.”
“How nice for them.” Kate was darkly sarcastic.
“I know, but that’s when Sondra told Hank it was only twice that she and Nick were together. She said he wanted out after the second time. She told me the same thing, that Nick said it was a mistake.”
“You didn’t deserve any of this, Abby,” Kate said, “any more than I did.”
“Everyone says that, but I think maybe when a bad thing happens, it isn’t a matter of what we deserve.”
“What is it then?”
Abby thought for a moment.
“You aren’t ready for that discussion.”
Abby said she wasn’t.
Kate said she thought Abby knew anyway, and Abby smiled because sometimes the way they could read each other was as if they were two halves of the same battered heart.
Kate said, “I think what’s important to remember is that Nick was coming home. I think you should trust that. He made a terrible mistake, but he was getting his act together; he was coming home to you.”
As if Kate could see her, Abby shook her head. It was another place she couldn’t go yet, and maybe she never would be able to look at it, the wonder of what might have been. She said, “I’m so glad you called.”
“Me, too,” Kate answered, and the skip in her voice matched Abby’s.
“I never can stay mad at you.”
“You’re a better person than me, Abby. You’ve always been.”
“No,” Abby said. “Don’t burden me with that.”
“But you’re my idol,” Kate said, and the smile in her voice made Abby smile, too.
* * *
In the den later, Abby spread a bottom sheet over the sofa cushions, dropped her pillow into place and then, holding the coverlet to her chest, she stood looking down at the bed she was making for herself. Sleeping here was ridiculous. If she kept on, she would become permanently crooked. Still, even as she carried the spare bedclothes upstairs, her heart was anxious. She’d scarcely been inside the bedroom she and Nick had shared since last April, much less slept in their bed. She thought of Jake, that when he came home he would see she wasn’t on the sofa but asleep in her own room. He would be reassured, she thought. He would think things were finally getting back to normal, and imagining that kept her resolve in place.
The freshly changed sheets were cool as she slipped between them and turned on her side. Moonlit shadows fiddled over the walls. There were small noises, the familiar night noises, amplified in the silence. She heard the owl; the branch of the old bur oak scraped the bedroom window. Nick had wanted her to call someone to take down the tree, but Abby kept forgetting. She loved it, loved the sound of the branch gently tapping as if it were a dear friend seeking to come in. She tucked her hands beneath her cheek.
And felt his presence there, not inches from her. She felt Nick shift toward her, and in her memory, she was facing him. It had happened just that way the last time they had made love. It was the night he’d been so late coming home, Abby remembered, when he’d been upset about their finances and Lindsey’s sprained ankle. The same night he’d mentioned the crazy client, whom Abby now knew had been Sondra.