Chapter 35
amy
Amy was making breakfast pancakes when Mac finally got home a little after six in the morning. She’d added maple syrup tapped from their own trees to the batter – her secret ingredient – and the atmosphere in the house was palpably warm and inviting.
The opposite of how she felt.
‘You look like you’ve had a long night,’ she said.
He perched on the entryway bench and began to unlace his boots. ‘Could say that.’
‘You must be exhausted. Why don’t you go up and have a shower, while I finish these? I could bring them up to you, if you like.’
‘Is it my birthday?’
‘You’ve been up all night saving us from ruin,’ she said, busying herself with the pancakes so she didn’t have to look at him. ‘I’m allowed to spoil you now and again.’
He kicked his shoes beneath the bench and came around the kitchen island. ‘Do I just get pancakes?’ he said, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her neck. ‘Or is anything else on the menu?’
‘Play your cards right,’ she said lightly.
He released her and put a scoop of coffee in the press. ‘We got lucky last night,’ he said. ‘Lost about a third of the roof over the boat storage, but Jesse’s Chris-Craft was the only one damaged. It’s just cosmetic; I doubt he’ll even need to claim on his insurance.’
‘The marina’s OK?’
‘Bit of a mess – branches and leaves everywhere. But we got off pretty lightly overall. Far less damage than Hurricane Irene.’
Amy flipped the pancake out of the pan onto the short stack on a plate beside the stove, and poured in batter for the next, gently circling the pan as it sizzled.
‘So, everything should be fine for prom tonight?’ she said.
‘Yep. Lady’s in good shape.’
‘Kate’s worried about debris in the lake.’
‘There may be a few tree limbs floating around, but nothing the Lady can’t handle.
And John Berry’s an experienced captain.
He knows what he’s doing. He’ll have Eric Tester on lookout, too.
’ Mac plugged his phone into the charger next to the fridge, and poured his coffee.
‘I’ll come back down for the pancakes after my shower.
Gotta get back out to the marina soon as I can. ’
‘You’re not going to get some sleep?’
‘Don’t have time. Won’t be the first all-nighter I’ve pulled. Remember when Nicky and Finn were babies? I don’t think we slept more than an hour a night.’
Amy hated him for invoking the boys. She didn’t want to hear their names in his cheating mouth.
She released her rictus smile the moment he left the kitchen. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up the Suzy Homemaker routine. It was one thing to decide to let things burn themselves out, but quite another to look him in the eye and pretend everything was normal.
And what about tonight, when they went to bed? They still had a healthy love life; whatever else he might be getting up to, that hadn’t changed. He’d know there was something up if she rejected him now.
His phone beeped on the counter behind her, and she jumped.
The screen was facing away from her, so she couldn’t read the text, although she could see it was from Jesse.
Amy didn’t know much about men who had affairs. But as far as she was aware, they didn’t usually leave their phones where their wives could see them.
Mac had never bothered with a password; when he was working on a boat with both hands dirty, he liked to let his mechanics take his calls. If that had changed, if he’d added a new password—
She swiped upwards on his phone, and it opened immediately.
The time for being squeamish about invading his privacy had passed. Ignoring Jesse’s text – call me asap – she scrolled quickly through Mac’s messages, going back three months. She stopped on the names or numbers she didn’t recognise and opened them. They were all about work.
She put the phone down, and went to the bottom of the stairs to listen for the sound of the shower. Satisfied it was still running, she returned to the kitchen, and checked Mac’s emails, too, including his spam folder and those he’d deleted.
There was nothing suspicious in any of them. No unknown names, no cryptic messages: the usual place, seven p.m. Nothing in his WhatsApp or phone call history. Either he had a burner phone – even thinking it sounded ridiculous – or he’d kept his affair strictly old-school and low-tech.
Maybe it wasn’t what it looked like after all.
There’d been nothing in his manner or affect over the last few weeks that was off in any way; he’d been neither neglectful nor overly attentive.
No strange calls or sudden errands. No changes in his wardrobe; he hadn’t joined a gym or updated his haircut or any of the usual magazine staples that were supposed to signify there was another woman in your husband’s life.
Maybe there was something else going on, something she wasn’t seeing.
Maybe, instead of trusting her eyes, she should trust her heart.
She put his phone back exactly as he’d left it and started clearing up the mess from the pancakes.
All three of them would be on the boat tonight: Mac, Amy, and the bitch who’d dared to come between them.
She’d get to the bottom of this, one way or another.
And then she’d put an end to it for good.