by Sara Rosett
“Just up a few blocks. Then I’m going to run by the grocery store. We’re out of milk again.” I didn’t want to mention Gwen’s house. He probably wouldn’t want me to go there by myself, but no one was home. I wanted to get everything for this garage sale done and over. And a little time to myself would be great. Leisurely shopping at the store sounded heavenly. I never thought I would think of going to the grocery store as a relaxing escape, but that’s motherhood for you. I gave Mitch a quick kiss, said, “I love you,” grabbed my funky patchwork tote bag, and shrugged into my hooded coat in case it rained.
Cruising up Twentieth Street, I passed Brent and Diana’s house. The Winnebago was gone. I wondered if Vera had decided to keep touring the country after the limp welcome from her daughter, or if house-proud Diana had found her somewhere else to park the monster. I found Gwen’s house, backed in the driveway of the detached garage, and quickly loaded the boxes into the back of the Cherokee. I didn’t want to spend any more time here than I absolutely had to. I shoved in the boxes between the box I needed to drop off at Diana’s and several packages of bulbs and seeds I’d wanted to plant. I’d meant to give Brent’s box to Mitch to take to the squadron, but I kept forgetting. I’d drop it off at Diana’s on the way home from the store. I slammed the hatchback door, rounded the corner of the Cherokee, and ran into Gwen.
“Oh, Ellie, it’s you.” She grabbed the door handle to steady herself. “I didn’t recognize the Cherokee and I came out to see what was going on.” She made no move to let me get to the driver’s door, but she looked just as startled and uneasy as I felt. “I was expecting Jill. As long as you’re here why don’t you come inside and have a cup of coffee? I’d like to talk to you.” She glanced inside the tinted windows of the Cherokee. “Your daughter’s not with you?” she asked as she turned and headed back to the small porch at the back of the house.
“No, she’s with Mitch right now. In fact, I’d better call him.” I whipped out my cell phone from the console in the Cherokee and dialed home. If Gwen wanted to talk, I wanted to hear what she had to say, but I didn’t want to go into her house alone, especially after she checked to make sure I was alone. And I wasn’t going to mention the body in the street.
Piercing screams sounded in my ear before Mitch said hello rather loudly.
“Hi, how’s it going?”
“Livvy’s mad. She got tangled up in her blanket.”
“Well, I’m at Gwen’s. I’m going to run in for a minute. Just wanted to let you know.”
He muttered something then said, “Where’s the extra package of diapers?”
“Hall closet, bottom shelf. See you in a little bit.” A distracted mumble sounded in my ear before he hung up.
I followed Gwen into her kitchen and took a seat at a table topped with white ceramic tiles. She moved back and forth between the knotty pine cabinets as she made coffee and set out mugs. In her powder blue sweatshirt, gray sweatpants, and low ponytail she didn’t look nearly as commanding as she did in her power suits. The kitchen and what I could see of the living room were furnished simply with cheap furniture. Not what I expected of Gwen. Maybe her polished professional image took all her time and money.
“Zoë's sick today. I had to pick her up from school at noon.” Gwen carried the mugs to the table and sat down. “Just a cold, but I’m glad Livvy isn’t here. I wouldn’t want to expose her to it. Zoë's upstairs asleep. She always sleeps when she gets sick.”
I sipped my coffee as the wall clock ticked loudly in the silence. I searched for something innocuous to say to break the tension. “I like this table.” I ran my hand over the smooth ceramic tiles. A hand-painted fruit motif decorated the center and corners.
“Thanks. I found it at a yard sale. Fifteen bucks. I talked them down from twenty-five dollars.”
Gwen took a sip of her coffee and glanced around the kitchen. She’s nervous, I realized. Her breezy confidence had vanished. “I don’t really know how to begin,” she said as she traced the square grooves on the table. She leaned back in her chair and smoothed back her already perfect ponytail. I wondered if her friendly, chatty side was her sales persona and this more reserved demeanor revealed another, more private, side of her personality.
Finally, she looked at me. “You’ve been asking questions about me and I’d hoped you would stop, but I can see now you’re not going to. You’re persistent. So instead of rumors, I want to tell you the truth.
“Cass was spreading lies about me. She said I was having an affair, but I’m not.” Her voice became firmer and her hesitancy disappeared. “It’s not true. I’m not having an affair. Of course, some people would say I was, if you’re going by the letter of the law.” Her tone turned bitter. “But I’m not. I’m married to Steven in my heart.” She took in my confused look and said, “God, this is hard. I’d better start with my marriage to Colin.
“After college, I worked at Hayden’s part time in women’s casuals. This was back in Illinois, where I’m from. Colin worked part time in ladies shoes. He was premed, following in his father’s footsteps to become an ophthalmologist, but his dad didn’t want to give him the spoiled-rich-kid free ride through college and med school. His dad was determined Colin would have to work as hard as he did to get through school, so Colin sold shoes. Or, I should say, charmed women into shoes they didn’t need, but could certainly afford. Hayden’s is very upscale. He was a great salesman, all subtle flattery and friendliness, but never too aggressive.”
She finished her coffee and then continued, “I fell for him. Hard. He was spontaneous. Outrageous, even. We married after a few months. That marriage was probably the only thing I’ve done in my whole life that pleased my mother. Colin’s family was on the right rung of the social ladder, at least for my mother. I was so happy. I thought he was, too.” Gwen traced the outline of a tile. “Looking back, I can see that it was probably too much pressure and too many changes. We married and had Zoë about a year later. I guess being a new husband, a new dad, and medical school were just too much for Colin.” Now that she’d started talking, the words poured out of her.
She sighed. “At least, that’s what I tell myself.” She picked up her coffee mug and set it back down. She absently studied the empty interior, turning it a quarter turn again and again, rotating it.
“He left and didn’t come back.” She gave her head a little shake and said, “He left for class on Thursday morning and never came back. I was frantic by midnight. By Friday, I was almost insane with worry. I was sure he had been carjacked or mugged and left for dead, but the police never found any leads. It was like he drove out of town and never looked back.
“Now I’m pretty sure that’s what happened. I hired a private investigator when the police search slowed down, but he couldn’t come up with anything new. Everyone seemed to believe Colin checked out of our life. But how could he leave Zoë?” She quickly wiped the corners of her eyes and went to get a tissue. She came back, cleared the mugs off the table, rinsed them, and sat back down, composed again. “I’m sorry. I don’t talk about this very much.
“After a few months, I couldn’t stand it anymore. Being reminded of him, constantly wondering what happened to him. And everyone asking me what I did to run a nice boy like that off. Like it was my fault! So I moved. There was an opening in Hayden’s in California. I took it. A fresh start.” She ran her hand over the tiles of the table. “I bought this and our other furniture at yard sales because that’s all I could afford. I didn’t want any help from family. I wanted to do it on my own.” The pride was evident in her voice, her straightened posture.
“And I did. We made it. When the opening came for Tate’s here, I moved. I missed the change of seasons but didn’t want to go back to Illinois.
“My job was great, Zoë loved preschool, we had friends, this little house. Everything seemed perfect. Then I met Steven and everything wasn’t perfect.” She smiled as she gazed out the window, not seeing the view. “I had a flat tire on the way to work one da
y. He stopped to help me change it. That’s how I met him. How many people are there who actually stop to help when someone needs it? We got to talking and realized we had some friends in common. Anyway, we started dating. Zoë fell in love with him, too. So, we got married a year later.”
I smiled. “I’m really happy for you.” This was interesting, but hearing a story of true love finally found was low on my priority list today. Gwen must have sensed my impatience because she said, “There was only one problem. I never divorced Colin.”
What? Why not? Gwen a bigamist? Could a woman be a bigamist or was there another word for women with multiple husbands? The questions formed so fast in my mind that I couldn’t get even one of them out.
She rubbed her forehead and slumped down over the table again. “I know it’s crazy, but, well, everyone always assumed I was divorced and it was easier to let them think that. So when I met Steven, I let him think the same thing. At first, I convinced myself there was nothing serious between us, just friends and all that, because I was the big career woman on the fast track and I didn’t need or want to be married again, but then one day I realized how foolish I was being, deluding myself. I needed Steven like I’d never needed anyone in my life.”
“So he still doesn’t know?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you tell him now?” It would be a difficult subject to bring up, but if it was causing her this much anguish, then wouldn’t it be better out in the open?
“I can’t. You don’t know Steven very well, do you?”
“No, I’ve only met him a few times.”
“He’s honest.” Her eyes were bleak. “Above all, he prides himself on his honesty. If someone gives him too much change at the grocery store, even if it’s just a few pennies or a nickel, Steven gives it back. He never lies. Not even to Zoë to get her to do something. I used to promise her a Popsicle or a trip to the playground if she would straighten up when she threw a fit. When she was younger she’d usually forget about the treat and I’d skip it, but Steven would never do that. If he says he’s going to do something, he will. He’ll go to work when he’s sick to get paperwork finished before a deadline because he gave his word it would be done.” Her eyes were glassy. “He’s so honest. I’d lose his trust if he knew.” She swallowed. “I’d lose him.”
An Everything in Its Place Tip for an
Organized Move
Sift through your keepsakes and consider why you value certain items.
Don’t keep things out of a sense of duty. Just because your Aunt Dot gave you a ceramic cat statue doesn’t mean you have to keep it, especially if you don’t like it. Give it away to someone who really appreciates it.
If you stash things because of their sentimental value, ask yourself if the physical presence of the theater program makes your memory of the play more vivid. Can you keep the memory and let go of the program?
Chapter
Twenty-six
Gwen grabbed a tissue, wiped her eyes, and then squared her shoulders. “So I hired a P.I. to find Colin. I wanted to serve the divorce papers. That’s who I met in the parking lot, the detective. It had gotten to the point where I couldn’t sleep at night, wondering if Colin was going to show up again, or call while I wasn’t home. And I knew that’s what he would do. And I was right. He waltzed into Tate’s that day and expected everything to be the same. I couldn’t live with the stress, so I decided to find him first.”
“Did Cass know about this?”
“Of course not, no one knows.”
Except me. Not good. The house was very quiet. Maybe Cass had found out. Gwen would certainly say Cass didn’t know anything. Cass wasn’t around to correct her.
“So can you do that? Divorce Colin without Steven knowing? But then you still wouldn’t be married to Steven.”
“I know,” she snapped. “One problem at a time. I’ll divorce Colin. Then I’ll convince Steven to renew our vows on our next anniversary. But it will be a real ceremony not just a walk-through.”
I was speechless. Was I the only person in the entire squadron with a normal marriage? My suggestion of coming clean with Steven died on my lips. If she was planning this convoluted divorce/marriage scenario then she wouldn’t listen to my feeble attempt to get her to tell the truth. Was I the only person who didn’t lie or hide things from my husband? Well, almost everything. I thought of the Hershey bar I had stashed in the cabinet over the fridge.
I combined this new information with the death I’d seen the night before and murmured, “Of course, now that he’s dead that solves a lot of your problems.”
She looked puzzled. “What?”
Oops. So much for not mentioning the dead body. She was trying to pretend she didn’t know Colin was dead? I knew the police were on their way to question her after they talked to us that night. Since I’d already slipped up I might as well see if she’d talk about Colin’s death. “You’re not a very good actress,” I said with more assurance than I felt. I’m probably a terrible actress and I need to get out of here right now.
She covered her face with her hands. When she looked at me again her eyes were red and desperate. “How can you know? Please don’t tell anyone. Please.”
“Calm down.” I pushed the tissue box to her. “Abby and I walked home from the coffee. We ran into Helen and were with her when she found him. We called the police. I told them he looked like the man I saw talking to you at Tate’s.”
She blew her nose, wiped her eyes, and sighed. Her shoulders slumped. “I thought I could confide in you and convince you to keep quiet about me. You’re sympathetic. Easy to talk to. I thought if I told you what was really going on, you’d see I had nothing to do with Cass and leave me alone.”
“But what about the police?”
“I told them he was an old family friend. Steven’s on a trip so I hoped it would be cleared up before he got back. He wouldn’t even need to know.”
“Gwen, they’re going to find out. You’d better tell them.”
“No,” she said sharply. “It’s going to go away.” Her viciousness surprised me.
“Mommy?” a weak voice called from the back of the house.
I hopped up from the table. “You need to go.” I eased toward the door.
Gwen gripped the table. “I had nothing to do with Cass. I didn’t like her or what she was saying about me, but I certainly didn’t kill her.”
With my hand safely on the doorknob, I asked, “What about the DVD player? Why was it in your trash?”
“I don’t know. Someone must have dumped it there to get rid of it. We’re just a few houses down from Cass on this side of the street. Someone probably went out her back gate and came through the neighbor’s side yard onto this street. It’s really overgrown where the backyards from the two streets meet.”
“They have a back gate?”
“Sure, lots of these yards do. People use the gates to cut through to the next street, so they don’t have to walk around the block. We have one, too.”
I checked her yard on my way out. She did indeed have a gate that opened directly into the backyard opposite her house. Tall pines shaded thick bushes that grew in a solid wall down the wire fence. It would be easy to slip though a gate, stay in the shadows, and emerge unnoticed in the next block. Maybe in Gwen’s mind her story exonerated her from wanting to harm Cass, but if she was lying and Cass did know Gwen wasn’t a divorcée, then it just gave her an even greater motive than I’d realized.
I batted a strand of ivy out of my face and headed to the Cherokee. I cruised slowly past Joe’s house. His car wasn’t in the driveway, so I parked and walked around to the side of the garage. If he was home, I could always say something about looking for extra food for Rex. I lifted the latch and paced slowly around the chain-link fence to the section that marked off the divided backyards. About a third of the way down the fence in the shade of tall pine and maple trees, I found a honeysuckle-covered gate. The vines wove in and out of the openings and draped over
the top of the gate, but around the frame and the gate’s latch the vines were neatly cut. I lifted the latch and pushed. The gate swung open on silent hinges.
“Will you take a dollar for this?”
“Do you have a bathroom we can use?”
“Any more lawn equipment?”
The questions were coming faster than I could answer them. Livvy, strapped into the BabyBjörn carrier, flailed her arms and started to fuss. I bounced faster and readjusted her little hat. “Sure we’ll take a dollar,” I told the bald man and directed him toward the checkout table. “No bathrooms and everything is already out.” The two bargain hunters turned and quickly walked to their cars, on to the next garage sale in search of cheap, overlooked treasures. Livvy’s soft whining rose in pitch and fervency. I bounced more energetically. It was only ten and the garage looked pathetically picked over.
The scent of rain mingled in the cool air as I stood full in the weak sunshine, warming Livvy and myself. Despite the NO EARLY BIRDS sign posted on the garage, the first knock on our door came at six-twelve. For the first two hours, Mitch had taken care of Livvy, but then Jill sent him to the store for more change.
A bearded man in a flannel shirt over a dirty T-shirt held up an electric edger. “Does this work?”
“I have no idea. There’s a plug and an extension cord over there. Help yourself,” I shouted over Livvy’s operatic attempts to shatter the remaining crystal in the vicinity.
I left the garage sale in the hands of the other spouses on duty and escaped up the steps into the house. In Livvy’s room, I sank into the rocking chair and got Livvy latched on. Then I leaned back and closed my eyes. They could get along without me for a while. She gulped down the milk like she hadn’t eaten in days, instead of barely two hours ago.
I rocked gently and listened to the hum of the edger. It cut off abruptly. Other snatches of conversations drifted up through the open window that overlooked the backyard. “Nothing here. Let’s go….” and “Oh, Stan needs a hat like this.” I drifted, flirting with sleep as the hum of conversation and the thud of car doors receded.
