If You Only Knew(73)

“Okay, that is a pleasing image, I’ll give you that. But if Loki sheds on my dress, I’m letting him out on the West Side Highway.”

He leans in, and I practically swoon. “No, you wouldn’t,” he whispers. “You’re too nice.”

“It’s hard to stop eye-f*cking you when you flirt with me.”

“Duly noted.”

I get behind the wheel and wait as my date-who-is-not-a-date gets his dog and guides him into the backseat. Loki growls at me, but I’m used to it by now. The smell, however, is new. “You can wash dogs, I’ve heard,” I say as Leo gets in the front seat.

“Yeah. Well, Loki doesn’t like baths.”

“Neither does my niece, but she gets them.” I start the car and pull into the street.

Leo turns back to see if Loki is settled, and pets the foul-tempered (and smelling) dog. I do admire his devotion to the animal. It’d be nice if the animal could find it in his heart to like me a little. I see him almost every day, after all. Now that the weather is gorgeous and the days are longer, Leo is outside in his chaise lounge more than ever. I’ve bribed both Leo and Loki with meat products, but it’s only worked on Leo so far.

There have been no other kisses exchanged. Made me almost wish for Loki to have another seizure.

“So tell me about Mr. and Mrs. Perfect,” Leo says.

“It’s Dr. and Dr. Perfect. She has a PhD in something noble. He’s a plastic surgeon, the type who fixes facial deformities, not the boob-job type. She runs a foundation that digs wells in third-world countries.”

“I hate them both already.”

“Thank you, loyal friend.”

He grins, and I have to concentrate on not sideswiping the Hummer in the lane next to me.

“So what went wrong with you and Dr. Perfect the Male?”

“Owen. I don’t really know.”

“Oh, come on. Sure you do.”

“The divorce was his call. I was very happy.”

“Really? So you were completely stunned when he sat you down for the talk. No warning signs. Just blissful happiness and then he shot you in the heart.”

“Yep.”

“Jenny. You’re not that dense, are you?”

My hands tighten on the steering wheel. Behind me, Loki farts, and the smell is damn near toxic. I give Leo a look and roll down my window.

“I’d rather not analyze the failure of my marriage right now, okay?”

“What better time? I bet there were warning signs.”

“Maybe there were. I just didn’t see them as warnings. I thought it was just normal stuff.”

“Like what?” He’s turned in his seat to look at me, and there’s something about his eyes that basically forces a person to talk. The interest, the kindness, the hint of humor—or mockery. “Tell Uncle Leo.”

I sigh. “He wanted to travel more than I did. He did three weeks with Doctors Without Borders every year, and he wanted to do more. His workdays got longer and longer. He zoned out when I talked about my job.” The sex wasn’t fabulous anymore. He stopped laughing at my jokes.

He got bored with me.

Leo sighs. “Men suck.”

“Preach it, brother.” I put on the turn signal and take the exit that leads to my former home.

* * *

Ana-Sofia greets me at the door with her usual cry of joy. “Jenny! How wonderful to see you! And you look so beautiful!”

I’m horribly overdressed. Ana is wearing long wide-legged raw silk pants and a white asymmetrically cut, perfectly simple tank top. Eileen Fisher, fabulous on Ana’s superslender tall figure. Bare feet, no makeup, no pedicure, her straight, long hair in a simple ponytail.

Damn. I got the clothes completely wrong tonight.

“And you’re Leo,” Ana-Sofia says, kissing Leo on both cheeks. “Come in, come in! Oh, you brought your dog! Hello, puppy!” Loki, that foul-breathed, gaseous cur, wags his stumpy little tail and lets Ana-Sofia stroke his ears. Traitor.

“Holy shit,” Leo mutters. “You weren’t lying about how beautiful she is.”

“Not helping,” I mutter back.

“Jenny.” Owen gives me a big hug. “I’ve missed you! It’s so good to see you. Hello, I’m Owen.”

“Right, the ex-husband. I’m Leo Killian. Nice to meet you.”

“Would you like a drink?” Owen says.

“Love one,” Leo answers.

“Jenny?”

“You bet. Whatever you’re having. Where’s Natalia?”

“She’s sleeping,” Ana-Sofia says. “You haven’t seen the nursery, have you, Jenny? Come, take a peek!”

She leads me down the hall—already hung with three black-and-white photos of the new family—to what was once my home office. It’s been transformed into the most beautiful baby’s room I’ve ever seen, soft peach walls with white trim, a series of Classic Pooh prints hanging in a row. Exotic mobiles and wall prints add color to the room, as does a bright red-and-orange printed rug. There’s an entire wall filled with shelves of children’s books in several languages and a hammock of stuffed animals—all made with organic wool, no doubt, hand-knit by nuns in the Swiss Alps.

But what gets me the most is this: in white paint, in the handwriting I recognize all too well, is written “Daddy loves you very much,” and underneath that, in different handwriting, “Mommy does, too!” Natalia is sleeping on her back, her arms by her head. She’s covered by the white satin quilt I made.