Mother of All Secrets(10)



“I’m assuming Vanessa’s husband is perfect and super helpful,” Kira noted as we waited. Her tone was joking, but her eyes flashed with something a bit more serious.

“And good looking,” I offered.

Selena laughed. “And light on his feet.”

“And gentle on the light switches.” Kira giggled.

So I wasn’t the only one who had registered how off-puttingly perfect Vanessa was.

The next chunk of text that came in from her was extremely long. We each read it simultaneously, silently, to ourselves.

I walked past Isabel’s on my way home and there were police there. Her husband was outside so I stopped and introduced myself and asked if everything was okay. He said that Isabel had gone missing sometime last night, and they were trying to figure out where she was. Naomi is fine, she was on the steps with a lady who looked like she may have been a grandma. Anyway, I’m just updating you guys and I’ll let you know if there’s anything we can do to help or if I find out anything else. My convo with him was super short so that’s really all I know. Really alarming and concerning news. Take care, ladies.

“Holy shit,” Kira murmured.

“What the hell,” I added uselessly.

Selena said nothing. Her hand was on her mouth.

“What do you think happened to her?” I asked.

Kira looked down before bringing her eyes back up to meet ours. “I hate to even say this, but . . . do you guys think maybe . . . suicide? She seemed . . . stressed. I can barely remember seeing her smile.”

I didn’t want to admit it, but that’s the first thing I had wondered, too. There was something about her that just seemed a bit sad. Actually: very sad. And very anxious. The pristine way she dressed both herself and Naomi, the way she was always looking at her watch toward the end of our meetings. When someone is that wound up, there’s always a breaking point. Maybe she reached hers. Plus, there was what Vanessa had said about the police presence—maybe her husband knew she was a risk to herself, and that’s why the police were engaged, even though she’d only been missing for less than a day.

Of course, I was completely speculating. Unkindly so. And who was I to judge? People probably thought I was on the verge of a mental breakdown myself. I may very well have been.

And then I remembered what I had seen Isabel doing with Naomi in the park, their adorable little “conversation,” and suddenly I didn’t think there was any chance she had taken her own life.

“Does anyone know where she lives?” Kira asked. “We could . . . I don’t know, just walk by. See what’s going on? And I mean, I guess tomorrow, we should bring food or something? Or is that just when someone dies?” She pursed her lips with uncertainty.

“I know where she lives,” Selena said. “We had a playdate once, a couple of weeks ago. Eighty-Eighth between Columbus and the park, I think.” She scrolled hurriedly through her phone. “Yeah. Forty-three West Eighty-Eighth Street.” She signaled for the check and cleared her throat, glancing anxiously down at Miles, who was still sleeping peacefully. “But I can’t go. I really need to get home. Will you guys let me know if you find out anything else?”

We nodded solemnly, settled up—and hugged goodbye, which we’d never done.





Chapter Five



Friday, October 2

We’d been having drinks just a few blocks away from Isabel’s apartment, so Kira and I were there in a matter of minutes, though there was a slight delay when Kira had to transfer Caleb from his stroller to her carrier when he woke up screaming. “Take your pacifier, please,” she shushed him, pleading. “I promise you’ll be eating soon.” Mercifully, and shockingly, Clara was still sleeping.

There were a few police cars outside Isabel’s apartment, which, as it turned out, wasn’t an apartment at all, but a gorgeous, recently renovated town house. Unlike Selena, I had never been there. To be honest, I wondered how and when she’d had Selena over. It seemed a little random—or maybe I was just hurt that I hadn’t been invited. Then again, she’d known Selena a bit longer; Selena had told us she’d met Isabel in the park across from her building’s entrance, and that’s when Isabel had invited her to join the moms’ group. This was a few weeks before Isabel reached out to me on Facebook. Kira had been connected to Isabel through Vanessa, who she’d met at Mommy+Baby Barre. I wasn’t sure how Vanessa and Isabel had met.

“Do you think this whole building is theirs?” Kira asked quietly.

It seemed like it was, because there were no unit numbers listed at the door. A couple of police officers were at the top of the stairs talking to a man I assumed was Isabel’s husband. He’s hot, I immediately thought, which was a terrible thing to think in the moment, but he was. Tall, brown hair flecked slightly at the sides with gray, muscular chest discernible through his tight, blue collared shirt.

In the small courtyard below the stairs, the grandma that Vanessa had mentioned was sitting at a table with her head in her hands. She glanced up occasionally, looking toward Isabel’s husband and the police officers he was speaking to. Her face was stoic, but her shoulders were hunched with stress. A baby monitor emitted static on the stone table in front of her; Naomi must have been napping inside.

The town house stood out among its neighbors as it was white brick, rather than brown. It was stunning. The windows were enormous, sparkling clean, and trimmed with clean, dark steel. I didn’t have much of an eye for design—and as the wife of an architect, I didn’t need to, fortunately—but every aspect of this town house made passersby aware of its beauty, its brightness, its modernness. I was sure that I’d never admired a door before until this one, with its midnight-blue hue and long, slender silver handle. Now that I had seen where she lived, I was relieved that Isabel had never been to my unkempt, charmless one bedroom.

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