The Whispering Room

work.

Lynette stood at the kitchen window and watched him make pass after pass through the grass. The light was almost gone, but he didn’t let up until the whole backyard was trimmed. Somewhere along the way, he’d discarded his shirt, and Lynette was surprised by the flutter of awareness in the pit of her stomach.

How long had it been since she’d noticed how attractive her husband still was? How long since she’d paid him a real compliment?

Despair settled around her heart. She was still so mad at him she could spit, but her anger did nothing to fill the hole left by his indifference.

Lynette wanted to turn away from the window, pretend that nothing was wrong. Pretend their lives would go on just as they always had. But she had the strangest notion that if she looked away, or even blinked, she might never see him again.

Mistakenly, she’d believed that the glue of a forty-year marriage was strong enough to bind them together forever. But while she’d remained rooted to the past, entrenched in their settled ways, Don had moved on. And she’d let it happen without lifting a finger to stop it.

Lynette’s eyes burned dryly as she watched him wheel the lawn mower toward the back gate. She didn’t take her eyes off him until he’d disappeared on the other side of the fence, and then finally she turned back to the stove.

He came inside a few minutes later and she heard him go into the bathroom to get cleaned up. She wondered if he would even notice the scrubbed tile in the shower, the stack of clean towels in the linen closet, the cake of fresh soap in the porcelain dish. Had he ever noticed any of those things, or did he just take her labors for granted?

When he came back into the kitchen, he was dressed in pressed khakis and a pullover shirt in the color of blue that Lynette had always loved on him.

His hair still damp from the shower, he stood in the doorway and propped one hand against the frame. “Something smells good.”

She glanced over her shoulder as she continued to work. “It’s nothing special. Just gumbo and cornbread. Peach pie for dessert.”

“Your gumbo’s always special,” he said.

Lynette turned in surprise and she felt a catch in her chest as their gazes met briefly. But when he saw her hopeful smile, he glanced away.

She tried not to let it bother her as she bustled around the kitchen, cleaning the counters and loading the dishwasher.

“I should get back to the office,” he finally said. “I’ve still got work to do tonight.”

Lynette tried to mask her disappointment as she shrugged. “That’s too bad. Evangeline will be here to pick up the baby soon. I was hoping we could all have dinner together tonight. It’s been a while since you’ve seen her, hasn’t it?”

Don glanced at his watch. “How much longer before she gets here?”

“She had an errand to run first, but she should be here any time now.”

“I guess I can stick around for a little while.” He folded his arms and leaned a shoulder against the door frame. “Listen, Lynette, when she gets here, I don’t think we should mention any of this to her. She’s got enough on her plate these days as it is.”

“Mention what?” Evangeline asked. She’d let herself in the front door and had come up behind Don without either of them seeing her.

It was likely no one else would have noticed her pinched mouth or the feverish gleam in her blue eyes, but Lynette knew her daughter too well.

Something had happened to badly upset her, but Lynette had learned a long time ago that Evangeline didn’t like to talk about her work. Not the bad cases, anyway. Nor did she talk much about her personal problems, even when Johnny had died. She kept so much bottled up inside her.

Maybe that’s my fault.

Lynette had never been one to talk about her feelings, either. Maybe if she’d been a little more open with Don, their marriage wouldn’t be on the brink of disaster.

Her first instinct still was to wrap her arms around her daughter, hold her close, protect her as best she could from the ugliness out there in the world. Shield her from any more pain that might be headed her way.

God knows, she’s suffered enough.

Lynette had always been protective of both her children, but especially Evangeline, in large part because of her gender and size. But she needn’t have played favorites because Evangeline was stronger than Vaughn, stronger than all of them. Her daughter had grown into a remarkable young woman.

Maybe in trying to shelter Evangeline, she’d really been trying to protect herself, Lynette thought.

Maybe it was high time she faced some hard truths about her own life.

“What were you two talking about?” Evangeline asked as she came into the kitchen.

Lynette took a deep breath and spoke before Don had a chance to. “Your dad is moving out.”

She couldn’t believe she’d actually said it, and now that she had, she couldn’t bear to witness the look on Evangeline’s face.

So Lynette turned instead to her husband. She could tell he was shocked that she’d beat him to the punch, but the relief she’d expected to find in his eyes was slow to form.

Instead, the emotion that flickered across his face looked a little like panic.

Well, Lynette thought. Well.

Evangeline sat at the kitchen table, bouncing J.D. on her knee. Her father had left before dinner, mumbling something about getting back to the office, and now she and her mother sat across from one another, avoiding each other’s eyes.

J.D. crammed a blue plastic rattle in his mouth, then offered it to Evangeline. “Hmm, slobbers,” she said, and he gave her a toothless grin as she pretended to lick the toy.

Her mother had given him a bath earlier, and now he smelled of baby powder and the apple sauce he’d had for dinner. The red-and-white-striped sleeper he wore looked so soft and adorable, Evangeline just wanted to cuddle him, but at the moment, J.D. had other ideas. He was wide-awake and raring to go. Flinging the rattle to the floor, he squealed in delight when it landed with a loud clack against the tile. Then he started to fuss until the toy was retrieved so that he could do it all over again.

“Dinner was great, Mom,” Evangeline finally said. “Let me put J.D. in his high chair and I’ll do the dishes real quick.”

Her mother gave an absent wave. “Don’t bother with the dishes. It’ll give me something to do after you and the baby leave.” She looked tearless and stoic, but Evangeline knew it was just a facade.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine. This has been building for a while now. Your father…” She trailed off as her gaze darted away. “After all these years, you think you know someone,” she murmured.

Evangeline thought about Nathan’s revelation earlier. Of all the things she’d imagined him telling her about the night Johnny died, another woman had never once crossed her mind.

“It’s not how it sounds,” he’d rushed to assure her. “He was just visiting a friend.”

“Is that what he told you?”

Nathan glanced away without answering.

“Who is she?”

“I don’t know her name. I don’t think Johnny ever mentioned it.”

“You’re lying.”

He sighed and scrubbed a trembling hand down his face. “She was a material witness on one of his cases, okay? That’s how they met. She was having a hard time getting by, like a lot of people are these days. He felt sorry for her and tried to give her a hand now and then until she got back on her feet.

They were just friends. Johnny swore that’s all it was.”

“Then why did he never tell me about her?”