Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
“His sister lives with a guy whose cousin’s wife writes for the website,” Nasser told us. “It looks like Ian told his sister, who told the boyfriend, who told his cousin, who told his wife, who then wrote about it online.”
“That’s one hell of a game of telephone,” Lulu remarked.
Tears filled my eyes. “I’m such a big mouth. Now I’ve gone and ruined everything for the kids. As if they weren’t already traumatized enough.” The worst part was that I had no idea how to comfort them. I was barely able to keep it together myself, much less help the kids navigate this catastrophe.
“Playing the blame game doesn’t serve anyone,” Nasser said. “We have to focus on damage control.”
“What does that even mean?” I asked miserably. “The only people I care about protecting already know the truth.”
“I expect to hear from Lizzie’s attorney,” he said. “She’ll want you to pay for violating the NDA.”
“Whatever.” I sighed. The world seemed to be closing in. “That’s the least of my problems.”
Later, I forced the kids to come out of their rooms so we could eat dinner together.
“It’s the stupid way we get married,” Adam said. “That’s why Dad had a girlfriend.”
I stared at my son. “Excuse me?” Was he making allowances for his father’s behavior?
Ayla stared down at her full plate, which remained virtually untouched. “Why do we have to marry someone who’s Arab and Muslim? It’s dumb. What’s the purpose of that? It’s not like we’re religious. Adam and I can’t even speak Arabic.”
“You’re culturally Arab American and Muslim,” I countered. “There are nuances to Palestinian culture and ethnicity that most non-Arabs can’t understand. It’s easier to marry someone who is like you.”
“All I know is that Dad dated that woman way back in college,” she said. “And twenty years later, she’s still in the picture? Obviously, he never got over her.”
Her words, uttered so matter-of-factly, were a punch in the stomach. I knew her father’s death had hit my daughter hard. But it was difficult to reconcile this bitter, skeptical version of Ayla with the complete daddy’s girl she’d been just a few months earlier.
“He was probably into her this whole time,” Ayla continued, resentment in her voice, “while he lied to us and pretended we were this perfect family.”
“What if that Lizzie woman was the love of Dad’s life?” Adam asked.
My children’s complete lack of sensitivity took my breath away. Did all kids believe their parents were emotionally invincible? I took a shaky breath. “Why don’t you two just take turns stabbing me in the heart with a kitchen knife?”
Ayla’s expression hardened. “But, Mom, we’re talking about you too. If Dad had been allowed to marry the love of his life, then you could have found the love of your life too.”
“Oh, Ayla. Don’t you get it?” Sorrow jetted through my body. “Your dad was the love of my life.”
“Lizzie’s attorney contacted me this morning,” Nasser said over the phone a couple of days after the kids went back to school. “They want you to pay the fine for violating the NDA.”
“This isn’t exactly a surprise.” Still, the thought of writing Lizzie Martins a check irritated me. “How am I supposed to pay her? Do I wire the money?”
“Slow down,” he advised. “We’re not just going to hand the money over.”
“We’re not? Why not? I obviously violated the agreement.”
“We’re going to make them prove it first. If Lizzie and her lawyer want fifty thousand dollars from you, they need to show proof that you actually violated the agreement.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard. All they have to do is talk to the people who were at Sara’s dinner party.”
“Exactly. And until they do, until they formally submit the request for payment, along with proof of violation, we sit tight.”
I almost smiled. “I have to admit that I like the idea of making them work for the money.” Especially after Lizzie’s continual refusal to answer the most basic questions that could give me peace of mind.
“It’s really just a delay tactic on our part,” Nasser said, “but we’re going to make them cross all of the t’s and dot all of the i’s before they get a penny.”
“I’m good with that. If that’s all, I’ve got to run.”
“Going somewhere?” he asked.
“I tracked down Lizzie’s ex-husband. I’m going to meet him now.”
Once I learned Lizzie’s full name, it hadn’t been hard to track down her ex-husband. Sean Price lived in Maryland and agreed to talk with me in person, suggesting Frederick, an hour’s drive from me, as a meeting point.
“Why do you want to talk to Lizzie’s ex?”
“Maybe he’ll have some insight into Ali and Lizzie’s relationship. I can’t help feeling that there’s a missing piece to this puzzle. Once I find it, maybe everything will make more sense.”
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Nasser asked. “This guy’s a stranger.”
“Don’t worry. We’re meeting during the day at a coffee shop,” I reassured him. “And I’ve got my pepper spray.”
“Good,” he said. “Keep it close.”
When I entered the quaint coffee shop in the historic section of town in Frederick, Maryland, I scanned the tables for Lizzie’s former husband.
The place was mostly empty. It was four in the afternoon, long past the lunch rush and too early for happy hour.
A man with a rumpled-professor look stood up as I approached.
“Amira?” he asked.
“Sean?” We shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“I knew there was an ex-boyfriend,” he told me after we ordered coffee. “I had no idea he was still in the picture until he visited her at her apartment after we separated.”
“He did?” My stomach dropped. “Are you sure?”
“I didn’t know who it was at the time. Now I assume the man who came to see her was your husband.”
“Did you get a look at him?”
He shook his head. “No. After Elizabeth moved out, I dropped by the apartment she’d rented to pick up something. I saw a man’s athletic shoes and bomber jacket in her foyer. He was obviously inside the apartment, but I didn’t see him.”
My heart thumped. “Did you ask her who it was?”
“When she realized I’d seen the man’s things, she volunteered that an old college friend was visiting for the day. I’d already gathered that, since the bomber jacket had the university logo on it and was a distinctive color.”
“Purple and gold,” I said. The university’s colors.
I fought to keep my composure. Ali had a bomber jacket like that somewhere in the back of his closet, even though he rarely wore it.
And it wouldn’t have been hard for him to get up to Frederick to see Lizzie.
“After my husband died, I found out that he left her a house.”
“You mentioned that on the phone.” He frowned. “That’s very surprising. Elizabeth doesn’t need financial help. She came into some money when her father died. The family received a sizable life insurance payout, and she makes an excellent salary.”
“She does?” I hadn’t thought of Lizzie as someone with a career. “What does she do?”
“She’s a very talented interior designer.”
That explained the beautiful front-porch furniture at the house on Cozy Glenn Lane. “And you never suspected there was another man before you saw a man’s things in her apartment?”
“Not once. My wife and I just grew apart.” He paused for the server to pour our coffee before continuing.
“Elizabeth definitely became more distracted, more distant, after we separated. But we didn’t have an acrimonious breakup.
My parents had a terrible divorce. It was extremely difficult for me as a child.
My experience made me determined to keep things amicable for our children. ”
“How many kids do you have?”
“Three. Two girls and a boy.”
I hadn’t given much thought to Lizzie as a mother. I’d never considered her as a fully rounded person. To me, she was frozen in the one-dimensional role of girlfriend with good legs who Ali might have loved more than me.
“How old are your children?” I asked.
“Payne, our son, is seventeen. The girls, Emma and Amanda, are twins. They’re fifteen.” He paused, sipping his coffee. “Elizabeth has always been a little high strung, but, after the divorce, she really started behaving in ways that were out of character.”
“How so?”
“At first, we decided to share equal time with the children. But then Elizabeth changed her mind and gave me full custody.”
“Your children live with you?” What kind of mother would voluntarily give her kids up?
He nodded. “And then, not long after that, she moved five hours away. The Elizabeth I thought I knew, who was devoted to her children, would never relocate so far from them. They were still quite young when she left.”
I did a quick calculation. The oldest child would have been nine and the twin girls just seven when Lizzie left. “Do you know why she decided to settle in North Carolina?”
“Her grandmother once lived there, but there’s no family left in the area. Honestly, I have no idea why she’s in Durham.”
“Does she see the children?”
“Not nearly as much as they’d like.”
“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t imagine moving to another state and leaving my children behind, especially not when they were that young.
Or even as adults. Ali and I used to joke with a horrified Ayla and Adam that they’d never be rid of us.
We intended to retire wherever they moved to be close to our grandchildren.
“It is what it is,” Sean said with a sigh. “I’ve given up trying to figure my ex-wife out.”
“She’s definitely an enigma.”
“I drove myself half crazy trying to understand the choices she’s made. Elizabeth has always been a bit selfish, but she was also, for the most part, a loving mother. Why would she choose to hurt our kids like that?”
“Did you come up with any answers?”
He shook his head. “I finally realized that I might never know what drives Elizabeth. She’s become even more flighty over time. Sometimes we just have to accept that we’ll never find all of the answers to our questions.”
“I suppose it could have been another man,” Lulu said when I called her on my way home. “A million people who went to JMU have those bomber jackets.”
“What do you think the chances of that are?”
“I honestly think it could go either way.” A child chattered in the background. “Yara, go do your homework. I’ll be right there.” Lulu sounded far away. “I’m back,” Lulu said, her voice loud and clear. “Where were we? What were we saying?”
“You were saying bomber jacket boy might not be Ali.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right. You said yourself that their college friend group is very tight. It could have been any of those guys.”
“And, of course, she’s a talented interior designer,” I grumbled. “She couldn’t have a boring normal job.”
“What kind of mother hands her kids to her ex-husband and moves away?” In the background, I could hear her girls fighting. Lulu raised her voice to be heard over the racket. “I mean, we all dream of dumping our kids to get some peace and quiet, but none of us actually does it.”
“Her husband said she was a devoted mother until they separated. Then she suddenly relocates and barely sees her kids.” I released a long, frustrated breath. “It’s yet another story that doesn’t add up.”
“Do you think the guy who broke in and ransacked Ali’s office is related to this Lizzie business?” She only knew about the intruder who’d searched Ali’s office. I still hadn’t told anyone about the garage breach.
“I have no idea.” I beeped at a pickup that almost veered into my lane. “I really don’t know what to think.”
“Maybe the break-in is completely unrelated.”
“Maybe. All we can say for sure is that Ali kept secrets from me.” Checking my rearview mirror, I prepared to change lanes to get away from the speeding pickup.
The last thing I needed was for him to swipe my van.
I did a double take when I caught sight of a vintage sports car behind me, a couple of lanes over, its burnt-orange color catching the sun’s glare.
“Are you still there?” Lulu asked.
“Yes.” The back of my neck tingled as I kept my eye on the sports car. Seeing the vehicle around my neighborhood was one thing, but what was it doing in Maryland? The likelihood of the vehicle being a different car seemed small. Was I being followed?
“What about Ali taking Xanax?” Lulu asked. “Could that be another thing he kept from you?”
I focused on the road ahead of me. “I have to at least consider that possibility.”
“So much about all of this doesn’t add up.”
“That’s why I have to keep digging. To make it all make sense.” I checked my rearview mirror again.
The orange sports car was gone.