How many chances should I give you, God?
I shook my head. Even if I wanted to pray, my faith wasn’t there anymore.
A drop of rain flicked my cheek. I looked to the clouds and saw a patch of blue. Was God still knocking on my door?
Visions of Rob holding a newborn, my parents battling in divorce court, and Phil marrying Darla swirled through my head. I wasn’t strong enough to make it on my own, that much I knew.
God, I need you.
How I wished he could hear me.
Three blocks from the office, I felt compelled to make a U-turn and drive the five minutes to Laurie’s home. Coming down her street, I could see the two-story Georgian-style residence, which had recently been repainted a crisp white. Lustrous black shutters hung on each side of the windows, and two neat rows of boxwood lined the brick-paved walkway up to the snappy red door. From the outside everything looked perfect.
Laurie’s Lexus sat in the drive. She hadn’t shown up for the Mom’s walk on Thursday. According to Erika, Laurie had called saying she was coming down with the flu and was going back to bed. But when I phoned her later that afternoon, she’d sounded fine—almost too fine. I’d asked about her situation with Dave, and she’d said, “Dave left town this morning for a week, and I refuse even to think about him until he gets back.”
I strode to the front door and reached for the brass knocker. At that moment, the door swung open, and Laurie glided out.
She stopped short, her eyes widening with surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried about you,” I said. She couldn’t be headed to the beauty parlor. Her hair looked professionally coiffed, with glossy strands styled away from her face. A splash of scarlet accentuated her lips, and dark liner gave her eyes a seductive look.
Laurie zipped up her purse and hoisted the strap over her shoulder. “I’m on my way out.”
I inhaled a whiff of Joy perfume, which I knew she saved for special occasions. “I came by to see how you’re doing and to give you a hug.” I put my arms around her, but she stood as straight as a broomstick, her arms dangling at her sides. I leaned back and appraised her outfit: a slim black knee-length skirt and a leopard-print top.
“Where are you headed?” I asked.
Avoiding my gaze, she said, “Downtown. I have an appointment in twenty minutes.” She inched forward, but I blocked her path.
“A business meeting?” I asked, not budging.
She glanced at her watch. She was wearing the small gold one with the diamonds on the face. “No, just something I need to take care of.”
My hands moved to my hips. “I’ll go with you and keep you company. We can talk in the car.”
“No, that won’t work. I have to run a few errands afterward, then go to the grocery store.”
A sedan pulled into the driveway across the street. Laurie waved at the driver, a woman, then took advantage of the diversion to sidestep me.
“I’ll give you a call,” she said over her shoulder. She scurried to her car and unlocked it with a remote key.
Where was she going? It was too late in the day for a lunch date. If she were meeting someone—
My mouth went dry. I wondered if I should beg her not to leave. But could I stop her even if I tried? Maybe there was no way to keep a boulder from rolling down a hill once it gained enough momentum.
“Laurie,” I called after her, using the stern voice I employed when Rob was in trouble. The woman across the street turned her head.
Laurie’s hand rested on the door handle; she waited for me to catch up with her.
“You’re scaring me,” I said. “Please tell me you’re not meeting the person I think you are.”
She wrenched open the door. “What if I am?” She raised her chin defiantly. “Are you going to turn on me too?”
“We’ll always be friends, but that doesn’t mean I like what you’re doing.”
“When did you get to be so high and mighty?” she asked, jangling her keys. Then she spun around, dove into the driver’s seat, and slammed the door behind her.
I stood listening to the engine roar to life. I watched her back her car down the driveway and cruise halfway up the block. The car slowed, brake lights flickering. Then it sped away.
When I got home, Charlie met me at the door with a meager woof. It had taken several days for the dog to recover the strength in his legs, and he still moved like an old gentleman needing a cane. Hauling him up and supporting his weight on one hip, I listened to my phone messages.
“Honey,” Mom’s recorded voice said, “would you give me a call?”
I wanted to call my mother right away, but I waited for the next message to play.
“Do you think you could stop by my studio today?” Henry asked. “I want to show you something.”
I played his message two more times. I couldn’t imagine what he could possibly have to show me. A note from Darla? An article on morality?
“I’m not going,” I told Charlie. There was no point in speaking to Henry Marsh about anything ever again. “I have my friends, my parents, and my son to keep me busy,” I said. “And soon I’ll have a grandchild. Wow.” I was amazed to feel anything other than dread.
I deposited a kiss on the top of Charlie’s fuzzy head, then set him down and fluffed his coat. He padded over to his basket, tucked his legs underneath him, and curled into a ball.
As I dialed my parents’ number, I wondered what Mom had on her mind. Was she going to share the itinerary for her upcoming European voyage,
