After Anna(75)

‘I smell philosophy.’

‘You don’t know what’s going to happen in a marriage. In your life. You have to be able to deal with it.’

‘Quite true.’ Kathy pumped her arms.

‘Like with Anna coming. I would’ve guessed Noah would be great.’

‘I said, you just have to give it time.’

‘That’s the thing, everything is happening so fast. He said the house is in an uproar, and he’s right.’

‘It’s not the worst thing for him to take a week off right now. It’ll give the house time to settle.’

‘I hope so, especially for Caleb. I’ll give him extra attention this week, and we have the barbecue Saturday night. You guys are coming, right?’

‘I wouldn’t miss it. What do you want me to bring, the Ina Garten corn salad?’

‘Yes, you make that great.’

‘You have to make those deviled eggs I love. Kick it old-school.’

‘That’s me.’ Maggie felt a rush of comfort, having a friend she knew so well that she knew her best dishes. Girlfriends were a blessing.

‘And don’t worry about Noah in Miami.’

‘I can’t help it. If Jordan’s there, she’ll seek him out.’

‘So what? He wouldn’t cheat on you.’

‘She’s younger and thinner.’

‘He loves you, silly.’

‘Right, I keep forgetting,’ Maggie shot back.





Chapter Fifty-three


Noah, After

TRIAL, DAY 4

Noah stiffened at the enlarged black-and-white photo of Anna in death, which showed her face, neck, and bare shoulders. Her eyes were fixed open, gruesomely, since the sclera around the irises was black with blood. Her skin had a gray pallor, contrasting with the dark bruises encircling her neck like a lethal choker. Linda, Thomas, and the courtroom clerk were working through the details of admitting and labeling the photo, which took a horribly long time, whether inadvertently or on purpose.

Noah let his thoughts travel backwards to the Miami NAAAI conference, which was after he’d married Maggie, Anna had moved in, and everything had gone south. He’d found himself again on the trade floor, knowing at some level that he was looking for Jordan, and as he’d headed toward AstraZeneca, he’d spotted her chatting up another rep.

They’d been laughing, Jordan throwing her head back, her hair bouncing, her lipstick a fresh pink, her throat open. He’d recognized her suit, a pinkish tweed that was tightly tailored. She used to wear a silky white top underneath, she’d called it a cami. And he’d flashed on the bra she’d have on, a lacy black push-up that she joked was her conference bra. Her skirt had been short, and she’d had on high heels, like always. He remembered them lying on the rug next to the bed like a pair of lethal weapons. He used to trip on them on the way to the bathroom, but he’d never complained.

Noah had approached her, and she’d done a double-take when she saw him, which she’d masked with another pretty laugh. He’d watched her touch the other rep on his upper arm, her fingertips brushing his biceps, but she’d been dismissing him. The rep had probably believed Noah was a sales target, but Jordan had known better.

Jordan, hey, Noah had tried to sound casual, which was impossible. He was born formal.

Hi, good to see you again. Jordan’s dark eyes had glittered in the way he recognized from before, connecting with him directly, not bothering to hide her interest.

How are you?

How’s married life?

Fine, good. Noah had noticed she didn’t answer the question.

I don’t believe you. You still look No-ha to me.

No, it’s fine. Noah had swallowed hard, unmasked. Jordan had been right, but he couldn’t tell her that.

I’ve missed you, Jordan had said, which was something he had always liked about her. She was strong in her own way, which was darker than Maggie’s way. Still he tried not to compare the two women. He loved Maggie. He’d never loved Jordan.

You look busy, Noah had said instead. He hadn’t missed Jordan until Anna had stirred everything up, not only the fighting but problems he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge in his marriage. Something had been missing. He’d realized what it was, looking down at Jordan who was looking up at him, her smile so lovely, her cami gaping in her cleavage. In her eyes, he felt like a man again, not a dad or a doc. He hadn’t felt like that since the early days with Maggie, when they’d clawed each other in bed. But after the forty-pound bags of mulch, the double coupons, and the parents’ nights, they’d lost something that no amount of date nights could fix. He couldn’t say exactly when, because time was a funny thing, backwards and forwards, from the tradeshow to the courtroom and somehow all the same. Somewhere along the line he’d lost himself. He’d become a husband, not a man.

No-ha, wanna meet me for a drink later?

Why not?

Come to my room at eight, number 317. I’ll bring the scotch. You bring the ha.

Noah had felt an unaccountable thrill. Of course she’d remembered he drank scotch. She was what his mother used to call a man’s woman.

Suddenly another group of doctors had come over, and he’d watched as Jordan’s expression had changed, the sexy warmth morphing to a cheery professionalism, and it had struck him that maybe there had been a face that she’d reserved only for him, that she did still love him. He’d left the trade floor and attended the afternoon session and the breakout, taking notes, sipping iced water from the ugly plastic pitcher, eating butterscotch candies, and checking his phone to see if Jordan had texted. She’d been an inveterate texter, being young.