The New Husband(7)
Dr. Wilcox’s eyebrows rose slightly. “How so?”
“Maybe next session,” Nina said. She knew it would be too much information, and therapy was a process, after all.
“Fair enough.”
“Anyway, Connor wanted more from his father—more of a connection.”
“And you didn’t?”
Nina gazed up at the ceiling, trying to piece together her feelings.
“It wasn’t a perfect marriage by any stretch,” she explained, “but I guess it was enough for me. I had the kids, my friends, my life; in some ways it was easier not having Glen involved in everything. I could make decisions and not be second-guessed all the time. I got what I needed, Glen got what he wanted, but poor Connor felt like his father was uninterested in him, and that was hard to hear.”
“Connor never talked about it with you before?”
“No, he could be stoic and stubborn, like his dad, so I only learned all this after Glen was gone.”
Dr. Wilcox nodded in understanding. “Does Connor feel comfortable with Simon? Do they do things together?”
“Yes,” Nina said as a pang of bitterness toward Glen and his failings came over her. “It’s been sweet, actually. Simon is good with tools, more so than Glen, so he shows Connor how to do minor home repairs, that sort of thing. He’s also studied YouTube videos to learn how to throw a football, and now he helps Connor practice all the time. And, miracle of miracles, he’s gotten Connor interested in history. Simon’s a social studies teacher as well as the middle school’s robotics coach. He and Connor are building something robotic in the basement together. I’m just hoping it doesn’t have arms.”
“I see,” Dr. Wilcox said. “And how does Maggie feel about their closeness?”
“I don’t really know. She doesn’t talk about it with me. She’s angry, and I understand why. She thinks her father is coming back.”
“But you don’t.”
“No, I don’t,” Nina said. “I think he’s dead. I think he’s down in that lake somewhere.”
“Did the police explain why they couldn’t find his body?”
“They did,” said Nina. “Sometimes, depending on how a body settles—on its side, in a particular kind of growth, covered in some debris, or even trapped under a ledge—the sonar doesn’t work. I’m a bit of an expert on drowning now, as you can imagine.”
Dr. Wilcox’s mouth stretched into a slight grimace, indicating she could imagine quite well.
“Normally a body will sink to the bottom,” Nina continued. “But eventually it will surface as gas from decay forms in the tissues. Then wind drag, water density, even the topography can create movement underwater, so there was never any guarantee that Glen’s body would be found near his boat.”
“That must be hard for you—the uncertainty, I mean.”
“It’s hard for us all.”
“What does Simon say about it?”
“Simon’s fond of saying that if you’re depressed, you’re living in the past; if you’re anxious, you’re living in the future. He’s all about being in the moment.”
“Nice sentiment, if you can abide by it, but not easy to do. Speaking of pasts, how did you and Simon meet?”
Nina recalled that time last May when her life had pivoted away from Glen and toward Simon.
* * *
SHE AND the children were still in the family home, the home they had shared with Glen. As she walked through her front door that day Nina felt a cold emptiness sweep through her body. Daisy always came running with a toy from her toy box clenched in her jaw. Now she was nowhere to be seen.
Nina rushed to the kitchen, the living room, all through the house, calling Daisy’s name. Her stomach roiled with anxiety. The front door sometimes appeared to be closed, but needed an extra tug or two to pull it completely shut. With so much on her mind, it was entirely possible she’d forgotten to double-check. Daisy may have nosed open the door and then pawed at the screen, causing the latch to release. She wasn’t boundary trained, and there was no electric fence to keep her contained, meaning she could be anywhere.
Nina got in her car and drove around the block, shouting for Daisy through the open window. Nauseous, her stomach in knots, she phoned Granite State Dog Recovery as well as the Seabury Police. Notices were put out on Seabury’s Facebook page alerting the broader community to be on the lookout for a lost dog. Ginny and Susanna joined the search, while tips came in about animals spotted on streets as far as ten miles away, but none were Daisy.
As dusk was settling, Nina grew increasingly despondent. Memories pierced her heart. She thought of running her fingers through Daisy’s thick coat, or how she rested her head on Nina’s lap when they watched TV. As she consoled her shattered children, Nina bristled at how unfair life could be—how cold, cruel, and brutally unfair.
Then she saw a truck coming down her driveway and for a second did a double take, because it was the same make and model as the one Glen drove. A moment later, she noticed Daisy’s glorious head sticking out the passenger’s side window, tongue flapping in the breeze. The car came to a stop and out stepped Simon Fitch.
It was not the first time Nina had met Simon. That encounter had taken place five school grades ago, when Simon was one of three teacher representatives assigned to help Nina get a local D.A.R.E. (Drug Abuse Resistance Education) program off the ground. They’d had a few pleasant conversations during that time, worked well together as she remembered, but she hadn’t seen him in years. Connor didn’t have Mr. Fitch for social studies when he attended Seabury Middle School, and Maggie, being in seventh grade, wouldn’t have him for a teacher until next year.