The Wife Stalker(12)

“I didn’t know you’d made a reservation at the Oyster House,” I said, hoping against hope that he’d tell me it was for the two of us.

He gave me a hard look. “Are you checking up on me?”

“Of course not,” I lied. “They called here to confirm the reservation.”

“It’s a business dinner.”

“For Fred Grainger’s case?”

“Yes. I’m meeting Piper there.”

My stomach was churning. “I thought you said you’d gotten everything you needed from Fred’s counselor. Why do you need to have dinner with Piper?”

“I just want some more background on the center.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea? It won’t look good if anyone recognizes you. You shouldn’t be seen in public with anyone associated with the witnesses you’re calling for his defense.”

His mouth was set in a hard line. “I’ve told you, Joanna, I don’t need you to monitor my every move. I need my space. I appreciate how much you’ve done to support me and everything you’ve had to take on these past few months, but I’m better now. Stop hovering and checking up on me all the time. And you don’t need to lecture me on legal protocol: I’m the lawyer.”

“I’m not trying to lecture you. I’m just trying to help.” His reminding me that I didn’t have a law degree was a cheap shot. He knew how much I regretted not finishing school. And besides, we’d always talked about work, until recently.

He shook his head. “It would be helpful if you would drop it.” I didn’t understand what he was getting so defensive about if he had nothing to hide, but Celeste had warned me that people coming out of a depressive episode can get easily irritated, as they were suddenly dealing with an influx of more emotion. I worried that I was beginning to sound like my mother—her suspicion and constant questioning. That hadn’t done her any good with my father, and it certainly wouldn’t endear me to Leo.

I put my hands up in supplication. “Consider it dropped.”

But of course, I couldn’t drop it. I hired a sitter and borrowed my mother’s car, confident he wouldn’t recognize it, then drove to the restaurant and found a spot on the street. Watching the entrance in the rearview mirror, I waited. At precisely eight, I saw two people walking toward the door and felt a knot in my stomach when Piper came into view. She was dressed in a body-hugging navy-blue dress, her shiny blond hair looking as though it had just been professionally blown out. Given my dark hair and brown eyes, Piper and I were polar opposites, I realized, and I wondered if that’s what had attracted Leo to her.

He put his hand on her back and guided her in. I felt my cheeks burn, my hands clench into fists. Breathing in and out, I forced myself to calm down. He was either lying right to my face, or he was lying to himself—if they talked about the case at all, I’d be shocked. But this all seemed so outside of his personality—at least, his old personality. I was worried that this was more the doing of Piper, this stranger with no Internet history, than his.

My next move needed to be calculated. I sat there for a long while, trying to decide what to do. Finally, I realized that I wanted to be with the children, to remind myself of everything I had at home. But first I had to return my mother’s car.

When I pulled into her driveway, I saw that the lights were still on. She was sitting at the card table working on her jigsaw puzzle while a rerun of The Golden Girls blared from the large television in the corner. Her hearing was getting worse, I realized, and made a mental note to make an appointment for her with the audiologist. She clicked the remote, and the TV went silent.

“Those girls have the right idea. Everything would be so much better if I lived in a nice house in Florida with some good friends. Look at all the fun they have. My life is the pits,” she grumbled, taking a long swallow from the glass of wine on the table next to her. I sighed. Mom wasn’t supposed to drink with her condition.

“Thanks for lending me your car,” I said as I put her keys on the table.

“You’re welcome. What’s wrong with your car? Couldn’t that big shot Leo let you use his?” She’d never thought much of Leo. She didn’t think much of any man, really, not after what my father had done. There was no way I was going to tell her about his dinner. I knew what she’d say. All men are liars. You can’t trust any of them.

“I’m low on oil,” I lied. “I had an appointment and didn’t have time to stop. I’ll swing by a gas station now.”

“Make sure you do. You don’t want your engine to burn out.”

I nodded absently. “How are you feeling today?”

She shrugged. “Not great. I think I need to go back to the doctor this week, see if he can give me something for these headaches. Can you take me if I get an appointment?” She gave me a pitiful look. “I’m sorry to be such a burden.”

I walked over to her and put my hands on her shoulders. “You’re not a burden, Mom. Of course I’ll take you. But . . . the doctor did tell you that alcohol can exacerbate the headaches.” I looked at the glass of wine again.

She gave me a sheepish look. “I only have it sometimes. I’m lonely, and you’re always so busy. If your father hadn’t up and left—”