Chương 11
For half a second, his hands remained suspended beside her.
Then he wrapped both arms around his daughter.
He did not cry.
Neither did she.
That somehow made it harder to watch.
Charlotte joined them because Charlotte believed hugs were public events.
Victor laughed against her hair.
“You too?”
“Abby got one.”
“Fair.”
When he finally left, he walked down the hallway without looking back.
The girls watched from the doorway until the elevator closed.
Then Charlotte asked whether Ireland had grilled cheese.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Abigail picked up the torn petition pieces from my hand.
“Can I throw these away?”
I looked at her.
“Yes.”
She carried them into the kitchen and dropped them into the trash.
I did not stop her.
An hour later, Victor emailed me.
His attorney was copied.
The message stated plainly that he would not seek to delay or prevent the relocation authorized by our existing agreement.
I read it twice.
Then I saved a copy.
At 10:14 that night, Samantha sent a message.
Mom wants everyone at the house tomorrow morning before you leave.
I stared at it.
Why?
Her answer came quickly.
Because Naomi is coming.
I typed, That has nothing to do with me.
Three dots appeared.
Then Samantha wrote, It does if you want to hear why Naomi chose Victor in the first place.
I nearly put the phone down.
Then another message arrived.
There’s something Dad hasn’t told either of you.
And this time, I called Samantha immediately.
Samantha answered on the second ring.
“What hasn’t Dad told us?”
There was a pause, then the soft scrape of a chair moving across a floor.
“I’m at my parents’ house.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I know.”
Her voice was lower than usual.
“Dad can hear me if I’m in the kitchen.”
“Then go somewhere else.”
Another pause.
A door opened.
Then closed.
When Samantha spoke again, the room around her sounded different.
“I’m in the garage.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t know the whole story.”
“Then tell me the part you do know.”
She exhaled.
“Dad knew Naomi before Victor did.”
I stood completely still.
“What does that mean?”
“She worked on the Crescent Ridge redevelopment.”
I knew the project.
Walter’s company had partnered with a private development group on a mixed-use property outside the city.
Victor had spent eighteen months talking about permitting delays, contractors, financing, and a retaining wall that apparently had become more emotionally significant to him than most human beings.
“What did Naomi do on the project?”
“She worked for Halden Development.”
“In what role?”
“Community relations at first, then executive liaison.”
“That sounds vague.”
“It was.”
Samantha gave a humorless laugh.
“Naomi was good at being useful without anyone being able to explain exactly what she did.”
“And Dad knew her.”
“Yes.”
“How well?”
“That’s the part I don’t know.”
I closed my eyes.
“Samantha.”
“I’m not hiding it.”
“You just told me there’s something Walter hasn’t told either of us.”
“There is.”
“Then stop circling it.”
Her voice tightened.
“Dad recommended Naomi for the position that brought her into Victor’s division.”
The room seemed to tilt slightly.
“When?”
“Last summer.”
Before Victor started coming home late.
Before the new passwords.
Before Naomi became the colleague whose name appeared too often in casual conversation.
Before I learned what it felt like to hear another woman’s first name and have my body react before my mind admitted why.
“Why would Walter do that?”
“That’s what I asked.”
“And?”
“He said she was smart and underused at Halden.”
“That’s not enough.”
“I know.”
There was that phrase again, but this time I let it pass.
“What else?”
“He also knew she was pregnant before Mom did.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“When?”
“Before she announced it at Sunday dinner.”
I sat down.
That dinner returned in pieces.
Miriam dropping a serving spoon.
Walter staring at Naomi for half a second too long before smiling.
Samantha saying, “Well, that explains the sparkling water.”
Victor gripping Naomi’s hand under the table because he thought nobody noticed.
Abigail asking whether the baby would be her brother.
Charlotte asking if babies were allowed to eat mashed potatoes.
I had left early with the girls because I felt physically sick.
Victor had stayed.
At the time, he said Walter wanted to discuss work.
“Did Dad know about the affair?”
I asked.
“I think so.”
“Think?”
“I asked him tonight.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘Victor is a grown man.’”
“That’s not a denial.”
“No.”
“What did your mother say?”
“Mom started crying.”
I stared at the dark kitchen window.
“Does she know?”
“Not everything.”
“That’s becoming a popular condition in your family.”
“I deserve that.”
“I wasn’t making a joke.”
“I know.”
I stood again because sitting had become impossible.
“Why does Naomi want to meet tomorrow?”
“She says she needs to explain.”
“To Victor?”
“To all of us.”
“I’m not part of all of you anymore.”
“She specifically asked for you.”
“No.”
“Penelope.”
“No.”
I began pacing between the counter and the living room.
“I have a flight tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“My daughters have a flight tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“We are not spending our last morning in this country sitting in your parents’ living room while Naomi explains which married man she slept with and when.”
“Fair.”
The ease of Samantha’s agreement stopped me.
“You’re not going to argue?”
“No.”
“Then why call?”
“Because Dad is acting scared.”
That was new.
Walter Reynolds did not frighten easily.
He became angry.
Dismissive.
Controlling.
Occasionally cruel.
But fear was not an emotion he displayed publicly.
“What is he scared of?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
“I’m trying.”
I looked toward the girls’ bedroom.
Their lamp was still on.
Abigail was supposed to be sleeping.
She probably was not.
“What time is this meeting?”
“Nine.”
“Our airport car comes at three.”
“You could leave by ten.”
“No.”
A beat passed.
“Okay.”
May you like
I rubbed my forehead.
“Samantha, if Naomi has something to say to me, she can say it by phone.”
