Over Her Dead Body(67)
“To see Gran-gran?” Zander asked, and I had to think about how to answer that.
“Well, to stay in her house, for sure,” I offered. We hadn’t told our son that Gran-gran had died yet; we were hoping to make the news go down easier with a trip to Disneyland that Gran-gran paid for from heaven.
“She’s not going to be there?” he pressed as I handed him a clean shirt and pants.
“It’s a surprise,” I said. “Now get dressed while I make us breakfast.”
I changed Theo’s diaper, then buckled him in his high chair with a handful of Cheerios so I could make pancakes for his big brother. As I dropped two frozen breakfast sausages into a pan of sizzling oil, I shuddered to think how fucked up a person would have to be to want to carve up her children and mine them for spare parts. I mean, seriously: What kind of batshit-crazy bitch would ask her own son to give her a kidney? And then fake her own death to punish him for refusing!
“Zander!” I called out. “Breakfast is ready!”
As my son dug into his pancakes, I picked up my phone and texted: I’m coming to LA.
Charlie and I had been married for eight years, but my seven-year itch started long before we hit that ominous milestone. I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I met my true love at our wedding. I hadn’t anticipated ever acting on it—it just happened. Over and over and over again.
Please don’t, the text reply said.
Yes, Louisa was generous with me and Charlie. We never asked her to throw us a lavish wedding; she did it to satisfy her own ego. I would have been happy with a simple ceremony on the beach in bare feet and braids in my hair. But Louisa insisted on inviting a full complement of family and friends. I largely ignored most of the guests—they were of no interest to me. Except for one.
Already packed, I texted back. The phone rang two seconds later.
“Finish up and clear your dish to the dishwasher,” I instructed my seven-year-old as I left the room to take the call.
“Hi,” I said into the phone as I stepped into the living room. From my perch on the arm of the couch I could still see Theo. I wanted privacy but I had to keep an eye out, so hushed whispers in the next room would have to do.
“Things are really tense here,” the voice on the other end of the phone said.
“So I gather.” Zander stood up and threw his half-eaten pancake in the trash. All I had to do was wipe down the table and we could be on our way.
“So Charlie told you?” the voice said.
“That my mother-in-law is a lunatic? I think I knew that.” I muted the mic and called out to Zander: “Go put on your shoes, baby doll.”
“If you’re coming for me, it’s not going to happen,” the voice said. He didn’t want me to come because he knew he couldn’t resist me. There was no sense in pretending.
“We have no idea what’s going to happen,” I said. “I think the events of the last twenty-four hours have taught us that.”
“Marcela, please,” he pleaded, “the situation is complicated enough.”
I understood why he was pushing me away. He felt sorry for Charlie. They were cousins, he had loyalty. It was sweet, actually. But it was pointless to deny what we felt for each other. It wasn’t going away. And if my mother-in-law could just stay dead, we could finally move into our inevitable future together. Charlie would get his half of the money, and I would divorce him and get half of that. Overnight millionairess. Bing-bam-boom!
“I’ll see you in two hours,” I said, then hung up the phone.
“Ready!” Zander said as he appeared in the living room with his Nikes on.
“Be a good boy and get in the car.” I wiped down the kitchen and plucked Theo from his high chair. As I snapped my eighteen-month-old into his car seat, my body burned with frustration. I had just rounded the last turn of this grueling marathon of a marriage, only to be shoved back to the starting line. I didn’t want to go back now—couldn’t go back.
“Why are you crying, Momma?” I hadn’t realized tears were running down my face. I quickly wiped them away and kissed my son’s hair.
“Just missing Daddy,” I said, even though being married to his father made me cry every damn day.
CHAPTER 57
* * *
NATHAN
Shit, shit, shit! Why does Marcela have to come?
I hadn’t been in the same room as Charlie and his wife since the ski trip, which was a drunken blur for all of us. The fling was meant to be a one-off, a way to pass the time. Charlie and the rest of the fam are having their fun on the slopes, we’d told ourselves and each other. Why can’t we have some fun, too? I never would have indulged if I’d thought she would develop feelings for me. And now, on a day when things were already impossibly tense, I was going to have to deal with her, too? Shit, shit, shit!
I’d promised Charlie I would come “first thing” so we could call the police all together. I hadn’t told them the voice on my voice mail was Ashley’s because I didn’t want them to think I was in on it. Not that there was anything to be “in” on. Ashley hadn’t done anything except fall into a trap. But still, I figured it would be best to reveal Ashley as fake Silvia in the presence of a police chaperone. Because surely Charlie and Winnie would want to know when I had figured it out and would be pissed that I hadn’t told them immediately.