No One Knows Us Here(49)

Wendy and I never seemed to be home at the same time. I would come back from Leo’s and find empty containers in the sink. Lasagna and curries I carefully packaged up, labeled, and stashed in the freezer. The cookies and multigrain muffins. She was eating them, sharing them with her friends. I saw evidence of this—plates and cups and crumbs on the coffee table. So we weren’t having slumber parties and staying up all night talking. She was a teenager. She needed time to herself, time with her friends.

The dirty dishes, the crumbs on the coffee table, the empty containers in the sink—this made me feel like I was doing a good job. This was what a loving mother would do, right? Bake things? Make a bunch of meals with cooking instructions included: transfer to a 9 × 13-inch pan. Bake in a preheated oven at 375 degrees until cheese is browned and filling is bubbling. Cool for fifteen minutes before serving.

I missed the February deadline to take the LSAT. I had no excuse. Those first couple of months with Leo, when he was always gone, I had nothing to do but study, and I hadn’t done it. I had still been adjusting, and I had other things to worry about. I could take it in June. I wouldn’t be able to start law school fall term anyway. I’d still be here, with Leo, until the beginning of November. Nine months to go.



Leo called me late one morning. “Dress up,” he said. “You can wear those eyelashes if you want.”

“For lunch?”

“I’m taking you somewhere nice.”

“I thought you hated that stuff. Makeup and fancy clothes.”

“I don’t hate it.”

Okay. I could wear one of Mira’s dresses, but I didn’t have a coat to go with it. I’d forgotten mine at Leo’s on his birthday. I’d been bundling up in sweaters and hoodies for the last month. I had asked Leo to look for it in the corner of his hallway where I left it, but the next time I went over there, he informed me that he had thrown it away. I was annoyed, but I let it go. He was paying me good money. I could afford to buy another coat. I could probably get a pretty decent one at Goodwill. Those credit card bills and student loans weren’t going to pay themselves.



We had lunch at a nice restaurant in my neighborhood. In one of the few long-sleeved numbers Mira had left me, a tight red velvet dress with a plunging neckline, I was overdressed. Everyone else was wearing snow boots and fleece.

“You look beautiful,” Leo said, sitting across the table from me and reaching for my hand. I smiled back. It was a role, I told myself. Just play your part, and you get to keep the job.

Because the weather was so awful—frigid rain, threatening to freeze into snow—Leo had his driver wait for us while we ate. We climbed in the back seat, and Leo tapped the window, signaling the driver to proceed. “I want to make one more stop,” Leo said. A minute later, we were pulling into the La Cuisine parking lot at the back of the store.

Suddenly I understood it—I understood it all, why Leo had wanted me to dress up.

“Why are we here?”

“Surprise!” Leo said, a huge grin spreading across his face. “You’re always saying I need to upgrade my kitchen equipment.”

My heart was beating too quickly. Underneath the thick fabric of my dress, I was sweating. “You did this on purpose.”

“What?” Wide-eyed innocence.

“Had me get all dressed up.”

“I like seeing you all dressed up.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I like seeing you in a variety of ways.”

The look on Leo’s face was difficult to interpret. He looked . . . sincere. His expression was eager, as if he aimed to please. Maybe he thought I’d enjoy going back to my old workplace, swanning around in a velvet gown in the middle of the afternoon. It was possible. And it was true—I had told him he needed better kitchen equipment, especially if he wanted us to cook more of our own meals.

I went inside. What else could I do? It seems stupid now. I could have left the car and just walked away. I could have walked away, and Leo might have yelled after me, but what more could he have done? I could have walked away and never talked to Leo again. It didn’t seem like a choice at the time. It seemed inevitable, like I was destined to walk through that door. To buy all those knives. That knife.

On the sales floor, Steele found us comparing blenders. “Can I help you find—oh—” In a split second, he took it all in. The low-cut velvet dress, the cleavage, Leo at my side, his arm around my shoulders. “Hi, Rosemary.”

“Hey.” I tried to meet his gaze but found myself lowering my eyes, like I was some blushing courtesan.

“We’re going to need pretty much everything,” Leo said to Steele. Leo either didn’t notice my discomfort or had chosen to ignore it. “Top of the line.”

As Steele walked Leo through the pros and cons of each blender model, I surveilled the store. We didn’t have a great vantage point from where we stood; I wasn’t sure whether Margorie was here or not. Please don’t be here, I silently pleaded. She might have taken the day off. Or maybe she was out for lunch. That would be convenient.

They settled on the Vitamix. Steele told us he’d leave it for us behind the counter when we were ready to check out. “Thanks,” I muttered.

Leo wanted me to show him the knives myself, but we needed someone to open up the display case with a key. He went to find someone and returned with . . . Margorie. I felt heat rise up my face, all the way up to my ears.