Chapter 16
There’s no one home when I get there, as expected. Roy is at his office downtown, and Marie is wherever she is, but she’s not here.
I put down my purse on the hall table and go straight to Roy’s office. I probably should wait until tonight when he’s asleep, but I can’t help myself. It’s like the key is burning a hole in my pocket.
I unlock the door.
I crouch down and slide a bottom cupboard open.
This one also has a brown square cardboard box inside, but it’s organized with tabs and labels.
I find it’s full of legal and financial documents.
I flick through them. They are mostly about share transactions, legal paperwork related to the house, and interminable contracts related to his psychology practice.
Then I find our prenup agreement.
Honestly, when Roy told me he wanted a prenup, I was like, Roy, whatever makes you happy. We are married till death do us part, so your prenup is as useful to me as a paper airplane. But what is interesting is that most of these documents predate our marriage, and yet there’s nothing about Deborah.
I put the box back and slide the cupboard shut. I check my phone. It’s five thirty. Roy won’t be home for another half an hour.
I should stop now, but I can’t help myself. I go back to the first box, the one with the mysterious letter. Then I sit on the floor and start to read.
24 August
My darling,
A little red-and-black bird landed on my windowsill this morning, and I wished you’d been here to see it. I miss you so much, my love. I miss the sound of your voice and the touch of your skin, I miss the blue of your eyes and the way you smile.
How much longer, my darling Roy, before we can be together? I can’t stand being apart. You are all I think about.
I love you
Vee
I drop the letter. I think I’m going to be sick. Roy was having an affair while he was married to Deborah? And yet he tells anyone who will listen how much he loved her, how much he misses her. He will cry about it, for Christ’s sake.
He wasn’t crying in August; that’s clear.
And what does How much longer, my darling Roy, before we can be together? mean, exactly?
As it happens, I know who Vee is. Vee is short for Veronica.
I know because Roy told me about her one night.
We’d been dating for six weeks by then. We’d gone back to the same French restaurant in West Hollywood, the one with the courtyard that looked like the set of a fairy tale.
He was twirling the stem of his champagne flute, his face was lit by candlelight, and I remember thinking I could see why Deb fell for him.
He looked incredibly handsome, if you were into that type, with his perfectly drawn lips, his dark-blue eyes.
I was quiet that night because I was trying not to screw things up.
I’d been quiet and demure and shy the whole way through, and I didn’t dare deviate.
Six weeks is nothing. Things could go either way.
But that night he was quiet too, and I was racking my brain for a way to salvage the situation, dazzle him with something, anything, but short of crashing the restaurant kitchen, sticking an apron on, and whipping up a chocolate soufflé, I had nothing.
Then he said, “I fear that I haven’t been completely honest with you, Jodie.”
I thought back to what led us here. I’d been at his house half a dozen times, but never alone, so that was useless.
We had great sex, and I thought that was enough to hook him in.
I know nothing of such things but it’s what you hear, isn’t it?
You make yourself pretty, treat them like they’re God, and they’ll let you move in.
That’s all I wanted. Move in. I wasn’t even asking for a ring, just a front door key.
I thought back to the horrible moment when I’d spilled my tray of oysters Mornay all over Roy’s tuxedo.
I should have asked for a job, offered to tend his roses, wash his car, anything.
He would have given me one, I’m sure. But I thought I could do better.
I thought we could have a fling and I could get in his house that way, and now I had nothing.
And so there we were, in the magical garden at dusk on a cool Wednesday evening.
“I fear that I haven’t been completely honest with you, Jodie.”
I took a breath, swallowed. “What is it?”
“I’ve been seeing someone.”
“Of course.” I felt like such an idiot. Obviously, he was seeing someone. He wasn’t going to date me. My mother used to say, “If you held up a mirror to yourself, you know what the mirror would tell you?”
“You’re the fairest of them all?” I’d seen the Disney movie. I knew about Snow White and the Evil Queen.
My mother would laugh and laugh and laugh, and when she had recovered sufficiently to speak, she’d bend down and say, “It would tell you you’re the dumbest of them all.”
I felt the panic swirl inside me. I thought maybe I should just kill him, right then and there.
I wanted to put my hands around his neck and squeeze.
Let’s stop playing games and get this over and done with then, I imagined myself saying.
How did you kill her? What did you do to her?
And more importantly, why? You snuffed the one life on this planet that was pure and kind.
She was an angel and you killed her. How do you feel now, Satan?
Anyway, so Roy said, “Her name is Veronica. We’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks. My wife has not been dead very long, you see. And Vee has been a great support. And you could say one thing led to another, as these things do, and…”
“I’m pregnant,” I blurted.
He recoiled so fast his knees bumped against the table. It shuddered, sending my flute toppling.
“What?”
I picked up my glass and mopped up with my napkin. “I’m pregnant. I’m really sorry.”
He stared at me, his mouth slightly opened, for a long, long time. I thought I could see the beat of his heart under his T-shirt, but probably not.
Anyway, I was beginning to think that had been a mistake, and I was digging my own grave, when he said, “Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I’m late. Really late. I bought the test but I haven’t done it yet.”
“Oh God, Jodie…” he said softly. He took my hand. I held my breath. This was going better than I’d expected.
He looked into my eyes. “I was going to say, I was seeing Veronica, but then I met you. So, I’ve told Vee that things will not go any further between her and me.
And that I am terribly sorry if I got her hopes up, which I’m sure I did.
That was probably unforgivable, but it couldn’t be helped.
I wasn’t going to walk away from…us. You and me. And I was terribly sorry.”
I swallowed. “So…it’s over with Veronica?”
“Yes.”
“Because you want to be with me?”
He laughed. “Yes!”
Boy, did I feel like an idiot then.
“And now…you’re pregnant?” he said, laughing.
“Well, I think I am. I mean, I’m sure I am.”
“Let’s do the test now,” he whispered urgently. “We’ll find a pharmacy. I’m sure there’ll be one open somewhere. You can use the bathroom here and—”
I raised my hand. “Roy. Please. A woman needs the privacy of her own home.” Home being a metaphor for the shabby, moldy walk-up unit I lived in.
I went home that night and scoured the internet.
Turned out it wasn’t hard to get hold of a fake test, and I figured at this point it was better that the test be positive.
Let’s not tempt fate, or Veronica. Because for a moment there, I felt bad for her.
This woman thought she was about to get engaged, that she would be the future Mrs. Davies, and then I came along and pulled the rug out from under her.
He was with me when I did the test. He cried when it came back positive. I remained pregnant until after the wedding, and I lost my imaginary baby one week after we were married.
But I think back to what he told me that night.
My wife has not been dead very long, you see. And Vee has been a great support.
Clearly. And how convenient, considering she was a great support before Deb died.
How much longer, my darling Roy, before we can be together?