Chapter 12
BERNIE
In the moment after she spoke, Bernie slid her gaze around the circle of women, their faces illuminated by the glimmer of candlelight.
She looked closely to catch the little twitches and blinks that can give a person away.
She’d gotten good, over the years, at reading these cues, largely thanks to Hollywood.
Sitcoms, soaps, reality television—her colleagues would have been shocked to learn that intellectual Bernie watched anything and everything, and that her greatest pleasures were medical dramas. She’d learned a lot from them.
Celeste’s expression was as dull as usual—even with such an exciting prompt.
She made a pretty little oh shape with her mouth and raised her brows.
Bernie had never had much respect for Celeste, and if it weren’t for her role on Sunnyvale’s board of directors, she wouldn’t have bothered trying to hide her contempt.
Imogen and Marta, on the other hand—Bernie was intrigued.
Imogen’s grin was stretched tight across her face, an elastic band about to snap, and she was worrying a loose extension at the base of her skull.
And Marta . . . her masseters and temporalis muscles bulged rhythmically as she clenched her jaw.
Bernie savoured the shocked silence after taking a sip from her own glass.
After a beat, she chuckled. “Relax! I’m a surgeon, or did you all forget?
Of course I’ve killed someone before. More than one, in fact.
It’s inevitable in my field. Sometimes, even when I do my best—and I am the best—it’s not enough and they die.
C’est la vie. Or in this case, la mort.”
“Jesus, fuck!” Celeste let out a wild laugh. “You had me going for a second. Okay, don’t do the next one till I get back. I gotta pee.”
Marta let out a shuddery sigh and Imogen narrowed her eyes at Bernie. “Okay, ha-ha, very funny. Maybe not the most sensitive thing to say right now? With Derrick . . . it’s not the best timing.”
“I’m sorry, Marta.” Bernie was very good at being sincere when she needed to be.
Lock the eyes, tilt the chin down, inject a shot of warm honey into her voice.
“I wasn’t thinking there was any connection at all with Derrick being missing .
. . I’m sure he’s going to turn up. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. ”
Marta nodded without looking at Bernie as she twisted her wedding ring round and round. How much longer is she going to wear that thing?
“No, it’s okay,” said Marta. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it.
I’m sorry to bring the mood down, but . .
. yeah, I don’t think he’s coming home. Not that I think he’s dead or anything—or maybe he is, I mean, what do I know—but I’m starting to think that he left me to start a new life, like, some kind of mid-life-crisis thing?
We’ve been having a hard time lately, and I’m not stupid .
. . I know how he is around other women.
Maybe he met someone new and took off with her. Does that sound crazy?”
Bernie thought it sounded delusional. “Not at all, it’s totally possible,” she said.
With what funds would Derrick start this new life?
It’s not like he was some high-flying financier with hidden bank accounts and multiple passports.
He was a high school gym teacher, for god’s sake.
Why not get a simple divorce? The sunroom was quiet except for the sound of Marta frantically scratching her leg with both hands.
Then Celeste came bounding back in, holding the bottle of tequila and blasting Miley Cyrus from her phone.
She bounced around the room, pouring more shots and singing along with an epic breakup anthem.
“Let’s keep these good vibes going! It’s not even that late, so no one’s allowed to go to bed yet.
Did I miss Marta’s never-have-I-ever? No?
Good, let’s go! Hit us with your best shot. ”
The look of panic on Marta’s face made Bernie smile. Marta had clearly hoped the game was over and that they’d forgotten about her turn.
“Um, okay. Just let me think for a second,” said Marta. Scritch-scritch-scritch. Bernie decided she was going to write a prescription for a steroid cream when they got back to the city—not as a kindness to Marta but so that the rest of them wouldn’t have to listen to that godawful sound anymore.
“Never have I ever stolen anything,” said Marta.