Chapter 2
This doesn’t sound good.
I have no idea what Jeremy wants to talk to me about, but whatever it is, he seems to want to talk to me about it alone. He is making no move to enter the living room or go anywhere more comfortable. So now we are just standing here, hovering on our front porch.
“Okay…” I say. “What do you want to talk about?”
He smiles at me, that sexy smile that still makes my knees a bit wobbly. “I’ve got a big surprise for you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I’ve decided to redo the entire house—paint the walls, new floors, a kitchen renovation. The works!”
All the tension drains out of my body. That’s what this is all about? A renovation? When I saw that new lock on the door and he said we needed to talk, for a split second, I thought he was going to tell me…
Well, never mind.
“A renovation?” I echo.
“It’s a belated anniversary gift, sweetheart,” he explains.
Our anniversary was nearly a month ago. I made him his favorite dinner—steak au poivre—and bought him a pair of cuff links that I knew he’d love. And Jeremy gave me a lovely gift: a beautiful silver necklace with an amethyst crystal hanging from it.
“But you got me a present,” I point out.
“Well,” he says, “can you blame me for wanting to spoil my wife every now and then?”
I can’t suppress a smile. Jeremy is a good dad, but he’s an even better husband. I think of the two of us as a power couple, even now that I’ve taken a break from work to raise our son. He’s sweet and considerate, but most importantly, I have never for one moment doubted how much he loves me.
“This is a really nice surprise.” I smile at him, although it feels a tiny bit forced. “I just wish you had told me in advance.”
“Well, then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, would it?”
This is Jeremy all over. He plans all our family vacations and only tells me about them on a strictly need-to-know basis.
I’ll be in the kitchen cooking dinner, and he’ll say, “Oh hey, Naomi, we’re going to Italy next week.
” It’s sweet, but it can also be maddening.
We are partners, and sometimes I wish he’d consult me in advance before making plans, even romantic and exciting plans like international travel—or a home makeover.
But on the other hand, he meant well. Even though we don’t really need new paint, walls, or a new kitchen.
“And guess what?” he says. “I already packed all your things for you.”
What?
Jeremy leads me to the living room now, where three leather suitcases are arranged in one neat stack.
They were a gift from Jeremy for my birthday four years ago.
Matching leather suitcases. I remember running a hand over the material and thinking how they were some of the nicest items I’d ever owned and also more expensive than the car I used to drive, which Jeremy traded in for me when he got me this silver Lexus as an anniversary gift that same year. He loves to spoil me.
He gestures at the bags on the floor. “I figured we could stay at my parents’ apartment for a few weeks while the work is being done. It’s only a twenty-minute drive away.”
After Jeremy gave up his bachelor pad in Manhattan and we moved out to Long Island with Teddy, his parents moved out of this house, which he had purchased for them a few years earlier, and into a first-floor unit he bought for them.
The house had too many stairs anyway, so they were happy to leave.
His father was already deteriorating at that point, passing on a year later, but his mother hung on another two years.
He used to visit them frequently and paid people to run the errands he couldn’t do himself.
He was a good son, just as he’s been a good dad and a good husband.
“What about your stuff?” I ask. “And Teddy’s?”
“Actually,” he says sheepishly, “I was hoping you could head out there ahead of us and get the apartment cleaned up. It’s pretty dusty, and the extra bedroom is full of boxes.”
So apparently, this anniversary surprise from my husband will involve me having to do a deep cleaning of his parents’ old apartment.
“Sorry,” he says quickly. “I would have done it myself, but you know I’m hopeless at cleaning, Naomi. I’d probably make it even dirtier.”
That could be true. Although I can’t be sure since I’ve never seen Jeremy actually attempt to clean anything in all the time we’ve been married. He might be a great husband and provider, but he’s not much of a housekeeper. Nobody’s perfect, I guess.
“I’ll help Teddy get packed,” he assures me. “Then we can join you tomorrow.”
“And what about dinner?”
There’s an amused expression on his face. “I’m capable of cooking a meal for myself and my son. I was single for a long time before you came along, you know.”
“You don’t know what he likes.”
“I’ll order a pizza. Or microwave some of those frozen chicken nuggets.”
I frown. “You know how unhealthy that is. Let me make him something before I go.”
“Naomi, I think he’ll survive one night of pizza and chicken nuggets. He never likes the weird stuff you make anyway.”
Well, he’s not wrong. Last night, I made him the most delicious acai bowl with homemade quinoa granola, and he looked at me like I was feeding him poison. He pitched a fit until I made him a box of macaroni and cheese.
His voice softens. “I’ll handle dinner tonight. It will be fine. Like I said, just get the apartment cleaned up, and we’ll join you tomorrow.”
“You want me to sleep there?”
“Why not? All your stuff will be there. It’s just one night.”
“And what about the morning?”
“Rosita will take Teddy to school in the morning, like she always does,” he says. “Then you can pick him up from school tomorrow and take him to the apartment.”
“What about bedtime?” I croak.
He frowns. “What about it? I always put Teddy to bed.”
He’s right. For as long as I can remember, Jeremy has been the bedtime parent. But that doesn’t mean I don’t come into Teddy’s room to plant a kiss on his downy-soft cheek every night, even if he has already drifted off.
I’m not sure I can sleep if I don’t do that.
“It’s only one night,” Jeremy points out. “Let’s keep his routine the same for one more day.”
“And are you going to tell him why I won’t be home tonight?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t think it’ll be a big deal.”
Is he joking? Has he ever met our son? When I recently bought a new purse, Teddy asked me roughly twenty billion questions about why I bought a new purse, what was wrong with my old purse, what did I do with it, and could he have it.
Does Jeremy legitimately think that if I move out of the house, Teddy won’t notice or ask any questions?
“We have to tell him something, Jeremy.”
“Okay, okay.” He holds up his hands. Once upon a time, his hands must have been rough and calloused because he worked his way through college taking shifts at a construction company, but that was a long time ago. Now he has hedge fund hands. “I’ll explain about the renovation.”
I glance down at the luggage stacked on the floor. God, he packed a lot of things. “How long do you think this will take?”
“A week? Maybe two. The kitchen will take the longest, but we can move back in before it’s done.”
The idea of this renovation is exhausting.
Despite the fact that he’s presented it as a surprise for me, I don’t want to do it.
But one thing I have learned about Jeremy during our marriage is that he is extremely stubborn.
Once he gets an idea into his head, he can’t get it out.
He’s used to getting his way. If he has decided that our relatively new house needs a renovation, then it’s going to happen.
Except why is a voice in the back of my head screaming at me that something is not right?
As if sensing my discomfort, Jeremy reaches for my hand. “I’m so excited about this, Naomi. It’s going to be like living in a whole new house together.”
I let him grasp my hand in his, and when he gives it a squeeze, his palm feels warm and solid against mine.
At five eleven, Jeremy is exactly six inches taller than I am.
It’s the perfect height for me to gaze up at him and feel loved and protected.
I always thought it was kismet that I forgot my wallet that day at Starbucks and he paid for my coffee.
I remember looking at him in his sharp Italian suit and power tie, and I knew instantly that this was the man I would spend my life with.
It made me want to be the sort of woman he’d want to spend his life with.
“Will you call me and let me say good night to Teddy?” I ask.
“Of course.”
I let out an exhausted sigh, thinking of the long night ahead of me cleaning that old apartment out. “Okay,” I agree. “I’ll do it.”
Jeremy’s shoulders visibly relax. “Thank you, Naomi.”
I nod.
“Hey,” he says, “let me help you with your bags.”
Jeremy grabs one of the giant pieces of luggage, which thankfully is on wheels or else I wouldn’t have a chance of moving it on my own. “I’d like to check the closet upstairs,” I say. “Just to make sure you didn’t forget anything.”
“Oh no,” he says as he rolls the bag toward the front door. “I’m pretty sure I got everything.”
“What about my orgone crystal?” My orgonite pyramid is a positive energy generator, which I keep on the nightstand. “Did you pack that?”
His lips twitch. “Got it.”
“Did you pack bras?”
This time he laughs. “Give me a little credit, Naomi. Trust me—everything is in there.”
Except…why? Why did he pack so much if we’re only going to be gone for a couple of weeks?
“Why did you change the locks?” I blurt out.
Jeremy looks up at me in surprise. “I had to. You don’t want all the painters and contractors to have the key to our house, do you?”
“That’s true…”
Except…wait. No, that doesn’t make sense. If we’re worried about the painters and contractors having the key to our house, shouldn’t we change the locks after the renovation is complete?
But Jeremy is already struggling to get my bags through the front door, so I don’t feel like I can grill him further. I’m sure if I do, he’ll have an explanation that will be perfectly reasonable and make me feel silly for even asking.
Jeremy lugs two of my bags out to my trunk while I follow close behind with the third, which is just as big and heavy as the other two.
He told me we’re moving out for a quick renovation, but several of the things he has done are not consistent with that.
And there’s one other thing I know about Jeremy.
He is an excellent liar.
I’ve seen him lie on the phone when talking to colleagues. I’ve seen him lie to friends and his parents. I’ve even seen him lie to Teddy.
As far as I know, he has never lied to me. The cornerstone of every good marriage is trust. Yes, Jeremy is a good liar, but I have to believe he is telling the truth about this. Because if I don’t trust him, we are finished.
Jeremy slams shut the trunk of my Lexus. “Thanks for getting the apartment ready,” he says to me. He digs into the pocket of his dress pants and pulls out a single key on a ring. “This will let you in the front door.”
I take the key from his hand, our fingers never touching. “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
This time he looks me straight in the eyes. “See you tomorrow, Naomi.”
My final clue that everything Jeremy has told me is a lie is that he doesn’t kiss me before I get into my car and drive away from the home where I have lived for the past four years.