What You Don't Know

by Merry Jones

  The truth was that being a widow was lonely and boring. So, after a few months, Nora followed Patty’s advice. She might as well go check it out. How bad could it be?

  Don’t dwell on the past. What’s done is done. Move on.

  Across the table, Derek looked over the menu and absently stroked his beard. The beard suited him: meticulously trimmed, yet soft. “You like pie?” He looked at her, the questions in his eyes asking about more than just pie.

  Nora had spotted him the minute she’d walked into her first meeting, two months ago now. She’d been immediately drawn to him, not so much to the beard as his intense blue eyes, Harris tweed blazer, and striking, yet gentle, demeanor. She’d later learned that he was a widower of three years, a tenured history professor at the University of Pennsylvania, the father of two girls, ages six and nine.

  At that first meeting, Nora had been wary, taking a seat near the door, ready to flee if she felt the urge. Who were these grievers, these strangers who got together biweekly to talk about, dwell upon, and share details about the worst pain of their lives? And what was she doing among them, given that her loss of a spouse had been her own deliberate choice? Was she like the others at all? Was she even grieving?

  Stupid question. Of course she was grieving. But not for Dave, the lying, cheating, deceitful bastard. No, she was grieving for herself, for the life she’d thought she had, for her identity as Mrs. David Warren. Oh, yes, she mourned that person deeply. So, she attended the grief meetings, commiserating with the others.

  Still, sitting among them, Nora had felt like an imposter, keeping her eyes on Derek, the striking stranger in Harris tweed, while the others dabbed their eyes and sniffled. Unlike the others, widowhood had treated her well. As soon as the autopsy had determined Dave’s death natural, by heart attack, his fat life insurance policy had paid out, and his firm had bought out his partnership, leaving Nora and the girls flush for life. She’d enrolled them in Baldwin, an elite private school, and bought herself a Lexus. Life was good. Almost.

  In truth, Nora sorely missed having an “other”. A partner. A spouse.

  “You seem distracted.” Derek lowered his head, gazing up at her.

  “Sorry.” She looked at his sweet blue eyes, felt tongue-tied. “It’s just…” Just? Just that I don’t know how to act? Just that I haven’t been out with a man other than Dave for more than fifteen years? Just that I’m a misfit, weirdo, freak who’s unable to make simple conversation.

  Derek covered her hand with his. “Relax, Nora. With me, there’s no pressure. We’re just here for pie.”

  No pressure. Just pie.

  Derek. Even at the meetings, surrounded by broken people, he always said the right thing.

  Like what he’d said to that guy who’d lied to his kids. “For weeks, I told them that Mommy was in Florida, visiting cousins. I told myself I was sparing them the truth. But, to be honest, I wasn’t sparing them. I was sparing myself from saying, ‘Mommy’s dead’.”

  It had been Derek who’d given perspective, assuring him and the others that there was no good way to share traumatic news, that it was enough to do their best. Nora had drifted, recalling how she’d sat down with Ellie and Sophie and told them that Daddy had passed away, that he wouldn’t be with them anymore.

  She’d watched their eyes, the confusion, the dawn of comprehension, the onslaught of tears. Then, she’d soothed them with Dave’s own explanation. “Daddy’s okay, though. He’s up in Heaven.”

  Sophie had furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head. Then her eyes had brightened. “Ellie! Daddy’s in Heaven with Aunt Barbara.”

  Nora had almost choked. Had pictured Dave strolling hand in hand with Barbara in sunny, green meadows with birds chirping, bunnies hopping, and bees buzzing around their happy, love-dazed heads.

  Maybe they’d gone off together after all.

  Well, damn them both. Sophie had been wrong; Dave and Barbara weren’t happy, they couldn’t be. Nora was the happy one, the winner, the survivor. The inheritor of Dave’s assets. The planner and executor of a standing room only, not-a-dry-eye-in-the-place funeral, the receiver of endless sympathy and admiration from Dave’s friends, family, colleagues and acquaintances. She was the one who was still breathing, moving ahead, going out for coffee on her first date with a handsome new man.

  Nora smiled at Derek, fascinated by the very un-Dave-like slender length of his fingers on his coffee cup. Imagining them touching her breasts. Yes, she was the winner. For once, she was free. No one to betray her. No one to bully her or take what was rightfully hers.

  The waitress brought the pie and refilled their coffee.

  “Can I have a bite?”

  Wait.

  The voice in her ear. It wasn’t Derek’s. And Derek wasn’t interested in tasting her pie. He was telling her about his younger daughter’s amazing math skills and digging into cherry pie.

  The hand she saw on the table beside hers was thicker, stronger, hairier than Derek’s. Nora’s blood chilled. She didn’t dare turn her head.

  “Sorry, I’m talking too much,” Derek said. “Your turn. Tell me about Nora Warren.”

  “Ha!” Dave said. “Go ahead. Why not start with how you killed your husband?”

  Nora stiffened. “Not much to tell.”

  “Like hell.”

  Nora tried to shove Dave from her mind. She steadied her hands and took a hefty bite of pecan pie, shifting the subject. “So. Did you grow up around here?”

  Derek swallowed coffee, nodding. “Bryn Mawr. The second of four boys. How about you? Any siblings?”

  As if on cue, Tommy plopped into the booth beside Derek. He held a jar of beetles, or maybe roaches.

  Great. They were both there. She forced another smile. “Nope. I was an only child.”

  Tommy glared at her.

  Dave reached over and scooped a dollop of whipped cream off her pie. She wanted to slap his hand. What was he doing there? Where was girlfriend Barbara? Why wouldn’t he just go be dead? Tommy set his jar down next to Derek’s pie plate, and bugs began crawling out the top. Derek didn’t appear to see them. He kept talking, and Nora tried to stop staring at the creatures and pay attention to what he was saying. Something about single parenting?

  “…and your daughters are about the same age as my little one. Maybe we could make plans for all of them. Like the zoo. Or a museum?”

  Tommy suggested the Natural History Museum. He loved their exhibit on Extreme Bugs.

  Dave became livid, insisting that Nora keep Derek away from the girls. “They shouldn’t have to meet every dude you hook up with.”

  Really? Dave was the one who’d hooked up with someone the girls knew. But Nora didn’t react. She kept wearing her smile, as if Tommy and Dave were not right there at the table interrupting, provoking, and commenting. Because they weren’t. They were only in her mind.

  Finally, pie and coffee were finished. Derek took Nora’s hand as he walked her to her car. Tommy wandered off to find more bugs, but Dave strolled along, checking out her new Lexus. When they said goodbye, Derek kissed her lips lightly, slowly, gently as the brush of a feather.

  Dave stood close, watching, judging. “Seriously? He calls that a kiss? I used to kiss you so hard your knees would cave.”

  Nora pulled away, her face hot.

  “Sorry,” Derek said. “Too soon? I didn’t mean—”

  “No, it’s fine. It’s just… I haven’t kissed anyone since…” She looked away. Dave puckered up and kissed his middle finger.

  Derek touched her cheek, gazed into her eyes. “Well, then, I’m glad we got that first one out of the way.” He leaned close and kissed her again, more deeply.

  Dave repeated Derek’s words, mocking him.

  Nora said goodbye and drove off, but was shaking so badly that, after a few blocks, she had to pull over to the curb. What the hell was wrong with her? Seeing Tommy and Dave? Hearing them? Tommy was no surprise. He was a pest
that had never let her alone. But Dave? She’d never had him show up before, not once, ever, since he’d died.

  Until today, when she’d had her first date.

  Damn. Was Dave going to nest in her head like Tommy, appearing at whim? Never letting her go? Never letting her be alone with another man? She thought of Derek, his sweet steady eyes, his kiss.

  Her hands clutched the steering wheel and she stared at the open road.

  Don’t dwell on the past. What’s done is done. Move on.

  Nora simmered. It wasn’t fair. They were parasites, both of them, feeding off her, living in her head. Dave and Tommy. Tommy and Dave.

  In the back seat, Dave leaned back, held up a scotch and toasted her.

  “Go away, damn you!” Nora slammed her forehead with the heel of her hand. She closed her eyes. Counted until she was sure he’d gone. Then she took a breath and checked the back seat.

  No Dave.

  Nora sat straight, started the car, and headed home. The girls would be back from school soon, and there was dinner to fix. Maybe she’d whip up a special dessert, finally get to eat some of that crème brulee.

  Acknowledgements

  Heartfelt thanks to Myra Fiacco and Jess Moore at Filles Vertes for their encouragement, energy, insight and

  enthusiasm, and especially for Jess’s careful, thoughtful, and detailed editorial comments which helped refine the book.

  Thanks also to:

  Lanie Zera, Janet Martin and Nancy Delman for their consistent, long-lived support,

  Kimberly Leahy for her generous and thorough read,

  The entire Philadelphia Liars Club, especially Oddcast co-podcasters Jon McGoran, Gregory Frost, Kelly Simmons and Keith Strunk for being models of perspective, persistence, humor, irreverence and determination,

  The regulars at the Main Line Coffeehouse for sharing battle stories and hard-earned wisdom, and rooting for each other’s success,

  And especially Robin, Baille, Nick, Zoe, Neely and Daniel. You are the cream in my coffee, the sun in my sky, the breeze on my river, the light in my eye, etc.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Merry Jones is the award-winning author of non-fiction (Birthmothers), humor (I Love Him, But…) and dark fiction (including the Zoe Hayes mysteries, the Elle Harrison suspense novels and the Harper Jennings thrillers). She is a long-time

  writing teacher, lecturer, speaker and panelist, and a member of The Authors Guild, International Thriller Writers, Mystery Writers of America, and The Philadelphia Liars Club. She cohosts the Oddcast (a weekly writing-related podcast via Project

  Entertainment Network) and The Main Line Writers Coffeehouse (monthly, at Main Point Books, in Wayne, PA). Jones lives with her husband in Philadelphia where she is an avid rower and

  member of the Vesper Boat Club.

  Also by Merry Jones

  The Elle Harrison suspense novels

  The Trouble with Charlie

  Elective Procedures

  Child's Play

  The Harper Jennings thrillers

  Summer Session

  Behind the Walls

  Winter Break

  Outside Eden

  In the Woods

  The Zoe Hayes mysteries

  The Nanny Murders

  The River Killings

  Deadly Neighbors

  The Borrowed and Blue Murders

  Non Fiction

  Birthmothers: Women who relinquished babies for

  adoption tell their stories

  Humor

  I Love Him, But...

  I Love Her, But...