A Good Marriage(43)
It was barely dawn, the light dim and gray, when Amanda came downstairs and flipped on the light over the huge island in their enormous kitchen. And to think that when they’d first arrived in Park Slope, Zach had considered purchasing two such brownstones and connecting them. Even the real estate agent, who’d stood to profit significantly from such an endeavor, had discouraged him.
“This isn’t Manhattan,” she’d said simply, as though that settled the matter.
Zach had been genuinely disappointed that the neighborhood culture meant not being able to go quite as far over the top as he was inclined, but he was unwilling to consider living elsewhere. “It’s the ideal community,” he’d kept saying.
Like every place they’d ever lived, their now very modern brownstone felt to Amanda like it belonged to someone else. As grateful as she was to live someplace so nice—and she was grateful to Zach for that—their homes always left her feeling like an impostor.
Oh, this drifting of Amanda’s mind was not good. Things worked so much better for her when her mind was contained to the page. That’s what her journals were for.
Amanda moved to make herself a cup of coffee—activities were also good. She’d just filled the carafe with water when the home phone rang. She turned to look at the cordless sitting over there in the center of the island. Her work phone, her cell phone, and now her home phone? She stepped closer: “Unknown Caller.” No, she thought. Please don’t. Not so early.
“Hello?” Amanda answered, her voice quiet and trembling. Silence. And then that rough, rattling breath. “Hello?” Sharper now, more forceful. But she didn’t want to make him angry. That wouldn’t help anything. When she spoke again it was a whisper. “Please stop calling me.”
But there was only more silence on the other end. And more of his awful breathing.
And then a click.
“Hello?” Amanda asked again, louder this time.
But the line was dead. She pressed the phone to her chest and closed her eyes. They never should have come to New York City. It was too close to St. Colomb Falls. Not that Amanda had been given a choice in the matter. Where Zach needed to go, they went. It had always been that way. And aside from the effect on Case—which she continued to worry about—Amanda hadn’t considered this move any differently. Until she’d stepped off the plane at Kennedy Airport and saw that sign: “Welcome to New York.”
The wind had been pounded right out of her. It wasn’t until an hour later, when she’d glimpsed the Empire State Building from the back of the chauffeur-driven SUV—sparkling red, white, and blue against the glittering Manhattan skyline—that she’d finally been able to get her hands to stop shaking. This was New York City, she’d been reminding herself ever since. It was a world away from St. Colomb Falls.
Amanda caught sight of something then, someone, out of the corner of her eye. She startled back, bumping her hip into the counter and letting out a little yelp.
“It’s just me!” Carolyn called, waving her hands around. “Sorry, I let myself in.”
“Don’t do that!” Amanda shouted, then tried to steady her breath.
“Jeez, you are jacked up,” Carolyn gasped. “What did His Highness do now?”
It was a joke, of sorts. Carolyn didn’t like Zach any more than Sarah did. Actually, she liked him much less.
“I’m jacked up because you just scared the hell out of me. What are you even doing in Brooklyn?” Amanda asked. “It’s not Monday, is it?”
Since they’d moved to Park Slope, she and Carolyn had been running together every Monday morning in Prospect Park. Had Amanda lost track of the days? With Case gone, and the bad dreams and lack of decent sleep, time did feel especially slippery.
“Nope, it’s Sunday. But let me guess, Zach is at work?” Carolyn asked. Amanda rolled her eyes in response, though that was exactly where Zach was. “Anyway, can’t I come see my best friend? You sounded weird the last time we talked. I thought I should check in.” Carolyn tapped at her temple and then pointed at Amanda. “Then again you are also weird on the phone. Only way to be sure was to see you with my own eyes.”
Carolyn worked in advertising, as a creative executive at McCann Erickson. Zach had once said it was the most prestigious advertising agency in the whole world. And he wasn’t one for false praise. Carolyn had done well for herself, which wasn’t a surprise.
“I am not weird on the phone,” Amanda said mildly. “And I’m fine. It’s just an adjustment not having Case here.”
Carolyn stopped at the kitchen island and tossed her headphones down, then put her hands on her hips. “I knew that camp was a bad idea.”
Carolyn had been strongly (and loudly) against Case going to that particular sleepaway camp. She wasn’t opposed to the idea of camp in general, but she thought sending a kid to camp on the opposite coast at the age of ten was ridiculous. She also didn’t buy it as compensation to Case for the cross-country move. She thought that was something Zach should have made up for, as if that was how anything worked. Really, she couldn’t understand why Amanda hadn’t stayed behind in California with Case until he had finished the school year. But Zach needed his family at his side. With new businesses, new cities, people cared about a person’s context. It was Amanda’s job to give Zach that context, to complete his picture as a family man. And Amanda didn’t mind. In fact, she liked it. She was good at it.