After
Gretchen
Scotty would be mortified if Richard found out, Hilary said.
And she and Scotty were already at each other’s throats about it.
But lately, Gretchen had noticed the fighting seemed to be about something more than money.
She even wondered if there might be another man in Hilary’s life.
But Gretchen had never asked outright. That was the thing about Richard and Scotty being so close.
There were things it was better not to know.
Hilary was seated at a small round table in the back, clad in pricey, form-fitting yoga gear, her blond hair swept up in a high ponytail.
Even at her age, Hilary was gorgeous and had a flawless figure, though her coarse edges could sometimes detract from her beauty.
Not that Hilary could help it. In Gretchen’s experience, sophistication was a right of inheritance.
It could be mimicked to some extent, but never truly learned.
And besides, Gretchen loved that Hilary was occasionally crass.
She had no problem telling someone they were being a bitch, or that their skirt was too short, or that they needed to chew with their mouth closed.
Sometimes she could be mean—did someone ever really need to be told that they should start waxing their chin?
But Hilary had no filter, and she’d be damned if she was going to apologize for being honest. As long as you stayed on the right side of her, it felt like love.
Gretchen made her way over to the table. She already knew she’d tell Hilary everything. Well, not absolutely everything—everything relevant. Gretchen trusted Hilary completely, as completely as she trusted anyone.
Hilary jumped to her feet as soon as she caught sight of Gretchen, rushing over and guiding her to the table by her elbow. “Come, come, sit.” Hilary pulled out a chair and snapped her fingers for the waiter. “Can we get a cappuccino and a glass of water? Quickly, please.”
“Thank you,” Gretchen managed as she sat down. She did suddenly feel very woozy again. Maybe she should take one of those Xanaxes the doctor had given her. She did not want to make another scene.
“Have you taken Xanax?” she asked Hilary.
“Do you mean today?” Hilary smiled and winked.
Gretchen rolled her eyes. “This situation with Richard—the doctor prescribed me some.” Technically for the situation with her ailing mother, but that was hardly the point.
“I would marry Xanax if I could,” Hilary said wistfully. “It’s the perfect companion—warm and comforting and so understanding. This definitely qualifies as a time when it’s called for. How you are even upright is beyond me. Take one, for God’s sake, then we can talk.”
“It’s, um, in my purse.” Gretchen looked down at the Saint Laurent clutch in her lap. Her arms felt locked around it, fusing it to her.
Hilary plucked the bag from her grasp and snapped it open with the purposeful confidence of an emergency room physician.
“Here,” she said, tapping one of the peach-colored pills out into Gretchen’s hand. Hilary handed Gretchen her own water glass. “I haven’t touched this yet.”
“Will it—”
“Make everything survivable?” Hilary said. “Yes.”
Okay was all Gretchen could think. I need survival. Gretchen took the pill and swallowed it down, chugging the entire glass of water.
“Okay, now, start at the beginning.” Hilary clasped Gretchen’s hands across the table.
Gretchen had to steel herself once more to get the words out, fervently hoping that confessing to Hilary would alleviate the shame in a way that sharing it with the children had not.
“Richard has been arrested for murdering the woman who was on that trip of theirs.”
“Well, I know that part—Scotty told me.” Hilary barked out a laugh. “And that’s ridiculous, obviously.”
She was right. The murder part was absurd.
The bells on the café door tinkled. Gretchen looked toward the door as a woman entered, holding the hand of a blond toddler.
The mother smiled down at her child as they approached the pastry case.
Watching, Gretchen felt such a pang of longing.
What if that kind of simple, charmed moment was over for her and Richard, for the children?
And, God, her granddaughter. She shuddered, shifting around in her seat, trying to ignore a stab of fear.
“Gretchen?” Hilary snapped her fingers. “Focus.”
“I’m sorry. What?”
“Why do they think he did it? I haven’t spoken to Scotty since he went to see Richard.”
“They have someone who says they saw Richard near her apartment. Also, they claim they found evidence. At our apartment.”
Gretchen wasn’t mentioning the so-called statements.
She’d already all but erased those from her mind.
As Scotty had said, whatever they were had been a product of exhaustion, nothing more, and the police wouldn’t be able to use them anyway.
But she was aware of how bad it sounded that they even existed.
She didn’t much like how it felt, either.
“What did they find at the apartment?” Hilary asked.
“I don’t know. They haven’t said. I guess they don’t have to tell you the details until the arraignment.” Gretchen took a breath. “Arraignment. God, can you imagine? How is this real?”
Hilary was quiet for a long moment, squeezing Gretchen’s hands as she stared down at the table. Finally, she looked up, her gaze calm and steady.
“When is this arraignment?”
“Monday.”
Hilary was quiet for another beat. “Take the affair off the table,” she said finally.
“Affair? What affair?” Gretchen asked, her heart surging beneath the hand she’d put to her chest. As though such an absurd thought never would have occurred to her. “Did Scotty say something about Richard and this woman having an affair?”
What if Hilary knew something truly devastating? Facts. Details. Specifics. What if Scotty had seen that same light in Richard’s eyes when they were on the mountain? What if he’d seen something more than that?
“No, no. Of course not.” Hilary recovered quickly, blinking innocently in the way she always did when she was lying. “I just…Well, you know how Richard is.”
“What do you mean?”
“Flirtatious, friendly—all those female friends…” Hilary was stammering. She’d talked herself into a corner, and she knew it.
“Oh, that’s just Richard.” Gretchen laughed, but it sounded brittle. “Come on, it’s when they’re hiding things that you actually have to worry.”
Hilary’s eyebrows knit together. “Right.” She forced a smile. “I guess I did always think the two of you…”
“The two of us what?” Gretchen crossed her arms.
Hilary looked down. When she eventually met Gretchen’s eyes, her own were soft and sympathetic. Gretchen would have preferred one of Hilary’s barbed retorts. Her pity was a very, very bad sign.
“Listen, you know how much I love you, Gretchen,” she said. “And I don’t want to say anything that’s going to make this situation wor—”
“Hilary, please, out with it.” Gretchen did not appreciate her marriage being judged by Hilary, of all people. It was the exact opposite of what Gretchen had come to expect from her.
“I guess I just—I always assumed that you and Richard had some kind of arrangement. I mean from way back before the trip to Africa. I know everyone jokes about the way he is, so charming and with so many friends and all that, but if I’m completely honest, I always thought it was a little…odd.”
“Ha!” Gretchen felt hijacked by rage. This was outrageous. “Did this occur to you because that’s the kind of arrangement you and Scotty have? That would certainly account for all your relentless bickering.” It came out in a burst of flames.
Hilary flinched, but just slightly. “Um, no, Scotty and I are just two boring old monogamists. We argue, but that’s what people who love each other do when they are honest about their feelings.”
“Oh, really? I thought that nonstop fighting was because you were about to get a divorce.”
Hilary withdrew her hands from Gretchen’s and pulled herself taller in her chair.
She was clearly trying not to take the bait.
But Gretchen wanted a fight. And why not with Hilary?
But before Gretchen could open her mouth, Hilary slipped her fingers through Gretchen’s again.
She lowered her head, a dog showing its belly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you, Gretchen.
I shouldn’t have said that. But I’ve heard others say it, I thought in front of you.
I thought it was just an accepted thing.
” She offered this gently, which only made it worse.
“And I’m open-minded. That’s all I meant.
Who knows? Maybe it was just me letting my imagination run wild.
You know I definitely do that!” She let out a laugh that seemed somewhat forced, then lowered her voice.
“Most of the time I do think that’s just the way Richard is—flirtatious, friendly, affectionate.
Some people just are that way. It’s not like I thought anything specific was going on.
Besides, Richard is like that with men, too! ”
It was true. It had always been true. But—an arrangement?
“Who else says that?” Gretchen’s humiliation was a lead fist in her stomach.
“Oh, I don’t even know. Maybe no one. Maybe it was just a sense I got.” Hilary’s face brightened suddenly. “Besides, Richard can’t even carve the Thanksgiving turkey! How could he kill someone? That’s the important part.”