Don't Go (20 page)

He thumbed to the phone function, pressed Menu, and looked up her call logs. The calls were to and from Sara’s mobile phone, Danielle’s mobile phone, and Bob’s office phone, in an almost alternating rotation. Then he noticed a number he didn’t recognize with no name attached, a 999 exchange in the 610 area code, which was local. Mike thought a minute. Nine nine nine was a common cell-phone exchange. He pressed to the most recent time he saw the 999 phone number, and it gave him pause. The date was December 14, at 9:26
P.M.
, and the call was from Chloe to the number. If it was her lover, she’d called him the night before she died.

Mike’s mouth went dry. He scrolled back and saw a call from the same 999 phone number a day prior, at 8:32
P.M.
, and then the day before that, at 10:45
P.M.
There was no identification of the caller in the phone, so he highlighted the phone number and pressed
CALL.
The phone rang, and his heart thundered against his chest. The ringing stopped, and a mechanical voice said, “This number is no longer in service.”

“Damn!” Mike said, momentarily stumped. He scrolled to the text function, but it was completely wiped clean. If there had been any texts between Chloe and her lover, she had erased them, in an abundance of caution.

“Mike?” called a voice, and he turned around to see Danielle, eyeing him with concern. “I knocked, but there was no answer. You’re looking at Chloe’s phone?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I’m so sorry.” Danielle crossed to the bed, deflating in her flowy dress. “Having people over was a bad idea, wasn’t it? I was only trying to make you happy, and we’re all so proud of you. Truly proud.”

“No, it’s wonderful, it’s great.” Mike slipped the cell phone in the pocket of his ACUs. “It’s so thoughtful of you, and everyone.”

“But my timing is off, it’s too soon. You must miss her, so much. I bet coming home and seeing Emily brings it all back to you. Now you’re looking at her phone. I miss her too, all the time.”

“No, it’s fine.” Mike tasted bitterness in his mouth. He wished his Oxy would kick in.

“You practically ran out of the room. I’m so sorry.” Danielle rubbed her forehead, leaving little pink trails. “I should’ve waited. Bob says I try too hard, and he’s right.”

“No, not at all.” Mike felt a stab of guilt. He sat down beside her on the foot of the bed and put an arm around her. “I’m happy to see everyone.”

“Then why did you run up and look at Chloe’s phone? You’re missing her.”

“It’s not that, honestly.” Mike both did and didn’t want to tell Danielle, but he was dying to know if she knew whom Chloe was having an affair with. He suspected that Danielle or Sara knew, or maybe both, because they were Chloe’s kitchen cabinet.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“No, I’m not.” Mike decided to go for it. “I’m looking at Chloe’s phone because I know that she was cheating on me. I know that she was pregnant when she died. What I don’t know is who got her pregnant. Do you know who she was with?”

“
What?
” Danielle recoiled, astonished. “If this is a joke, it’s not funny.”

“No, it’s no joke. It’s driving me nuts. Did you really not know? I don’t blame you for not telling me before, but tell me now, please. It’s been driving me crazy, for a year.”

“Chloe would never cheat on you.” Danielle shook her head, adamant. “She loved you. You were happy.”

Mike didn’t know whether to believe her. “That’s what I thought, but I was wrong. Did you know she was having an affair? Do you know who it was with?”

“No, of course not! This can’t be.”

“Hold on.” Mike started to believe her. He opened the phone with his thumb and scrolled down to highlight the 999 number. “Do you recognize this phone number? This could be the guy.”

Danielle looked at the number, nonplussed. “No, I don’t. Is this real?”

“Yes. I called, but it’s out of service. He called her the day before she died. Maybe they had plans to meet.” Mike turned to her, intent, and Danielle did seem genuinely shocked. “Think back to last year, the day she died. You were taking the baby to the mall. Did you plan that? It wasn’t spontaneous, was it?”

“I hate to think about that day.” Danielle winced, and Mike felt guilty all over again. He’d had a year to get used to this idea, but he’d surprised Danielle with it, upsetting her. It showed him how obsessed he’d gotten, but he didn’t care, thanks to the Oxys. He had all the same emotions, but they just didn’t matter.

“I’m sorry, forget it.”

“No, wait, it was planned.”

“So she knew she’d have the day to herself.”

“Yes.” Danielle nodded, pained. “She asked for it. It was her idea. She wanted to stay home. She said she wanted the break.”

“Maybe she was meeting him.”

“Meeting who? I don’t believe you. This is crazy.” Danielle was shaking her head, and a strand of hair fell into her eyes, so she tucked it behind her ear. “Was she really
pregnant
? How do you know?”

Mike told her quickly about the autopsy report, and when he was finished, Danielle was reeling.

“So what are you going to do now?” she asked, miserably.

“I’m going to find out who the 999 number is. I’m going to start with Sara. Chloe told her everything.” Mike realized he’d said the wrong thing when he saw Danielle look stricken. “She probably didn’t tell you because she didn’t want you to think badly of her. You’re her big sister.”

“Right.” Danielle’s mouth flattened to a disapproving line. “If I knew she was cheating on you, I would’ve killed her.”

Mike managed a smile. “Don’t you have any idea who it could be? There weren’t that many men around her. Did she ever mention anyone?”

“No.”

“No name? Not even a friend or a casual encounter, in the food store or anywhere?”

“No. I can’t even imagine.”

“Was there a daddy in any of the groups you used to take Emily to, like music?”

“No, and I still take her. There’s only moms and nannies.” Danielle shook her head, bewildered. “Let’s not tell Bob about this, okay? I don’t want him to think Chloe was, well, you know.”

Mike let it go. “After our old house sold, on Foster Road, you had the stuff boxed and stored, right?”

“Yes.”

“Where is the storage place?”

“It’s the one on Lancaster Avenue. Why?”

“Is her laptop there?”

“I assume so.”

“I want to look through it.” Mike raked his hair back with his fingers, a nervous gesture he did too often, lately. “I want to check her email, and I think she had a password file in the computer. She would have gotten email from this guy or she could have met him online. Who knows what she was up to?”

The hubbub from the party swelled, and Danielle stood up, smoothing her dress. Her fingers went to her cheeks, and she seemed to smooth them out, too. “This is a such a shocker. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I didn’t want to do it in email.”

Danielle nodded. “Okay, we’ll talk about this later. They’re all down there. I should go. You stay here, and I’ll tell them you’re tired. They’ll understand.”

“No, let me change, and I’ll be right down.” Mike stood up and met her eye, sharing the uneasy bond of a terrible secret. “I’m sorry, I know this wasn’t easy for you.”

“You, either.” Danielle gave him a hug. “Put it out of your mind for now.”

“Will do.” Mike felt the Oxys work their magic, even as he wondered if Chloe’s lover could be downstairs, among the guests.

Chapter Thirty-eight

Mike changed into a navy blue V-neck, Dockers, and loafers, and floated through the evening, thanks to two beers and the Oxycontin. He greeted everyone, but kept his eye on Sara, who was talking with Danielle’s friends in the dining room. Sara had to know whom Chloe was sleeping with, and he wondered if he could get her alone.

Mike sidled over to the dining room table, which held dips, raw vegetables, and cheese cubes, as well as scalloped potatoes and a carve-it-yourself roast beef, which looked great. He picked up a plate to get some, then realized he couldn’t carve it with one hand. They’d taught him in rehab to cut food with a rocking motion, but it wouldn’t work with a slab of beef. He was about to abandon the plate and join in Sara’s conversation when Jim materialized at his side.

“Let me assist, I know you’re a carnivore.” Jim picked up the carving knife and stabbed the beef with the fork, then set the meat on Mike’s plate. “Here,
mangia.
”

“Thanks.” Mike realized he had no way to cut the meat. Luckily, Jim didn’t seem to notice, instead meeting his eye, his face falling.

“Joking aside, I feel for you. Don’t think I don’t.”

“I know.” Mike flushed, hoping it didn’t show. “I appreciate it.”

“How’s your pain?”

“Manageable. I’m weaning off of Oxy.”

“Good. Swelling’s down when? Three months or so?”

“Maybe more.” Mike could feel eyes on them.

“You didn’t get fitted for your prosthesis yet, did you?”

“No, not yet. I’m in that in-between stage. The flap’s pretty much healed, but the swelling hasn’t gone down enough for an initial fitting.” Mike wanted to change the subject. “How’s it going with Lyon and the new practice? You guys taking over the world, or at least the Main Line?”

“We’re doing great. Prosperity agrees with me.” Jim brightened, patting his stomach, which hung over his belt slightly. He had on the blazer and khaki pants he used to wear to their continuing education classes. “But listen, I have plans for you. You free to meet with me and Lyon tomorrow morning?”

Mike turned, surprised. He had to complete rehab before he could work, but wanted to know his options. “Sure thing. What time?”

“Come by around noon. We can talk about it.”

“Thanks, will do.” Mike thought of Tony and Dave, who weren’t here tonight. They’d emailed him when the practice broke up and sent partnership dissolution papers he had to sign. Last he’d heard, they’d moved and were joining new practices. “How are Tony and Dave? Do you know?”

“Nah, I’m sure they’re fine, though. Take care. Gotta go find Laura.”

“Go.” Mike spotted Sara in the family room, playing on the floor with Emily. He left his plate, threaded his way through the crowd, and sat down cross-legged on the rug with them. “This looks like fun. What are you guys up to?”

Sara looked over, grinning. “Emily, look, how nice! Daddy came to play with us.”

“I’d love to play with you.” Mike adopted her sing-song tone. “Emily, what are you playing?”

“Beep beep!” Emily said, driving a school bus on the rug.

“Emily, is that bus going to school?” Mike picked up a toy that was shaped like an egg with a face. “Don’t forget this kid. She wants to go to school, too.”

“No.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” Mike smiled, even if all he got was a no. It was a thrill to hear her cute little voice, and he caught a flash of teeth, nice and even. “Emily, look at all those teeth! I wonder if you can smile. Can you smile?”

“No,” Emily answered, looking down, and Mike couldn’t help but laugh.

Sara grinned. “She’s entering the terrible twos. Get ready for a rough ride.”

Mike saw his opening. “Sara, by the way, are you free tomorrow after school? I’d like to stop by, to catch up.”

“Totally. Come by at three thirty, okay? Same classroom.”

“Great, thanks.”

“Beep beep!” Emily drove the bus to Mike’s loafer, then pointed at his sweater sleeve, which hung empty. “Where is dat?”

“My arm?” Mike hadn’t realized that Emily would notice, so he wasn’t ready for the question.

Sara answered quickly, “Emily, Daddy only has one arm. Daddy lost his other arm.”

Emily turned her curly head to Sara. “He find it?”

Mike decided to give it a shot. “Emily, my arm got a boo-boo, and the doctors couldn’t fix it, so they took it off. I don’t need it because I have another one. Here’s my hand.” He held up his right hand. “You have your right hand, too. Want to hold up your hand with me?”

Emily blinked, confused, so Mike reached for her little hand and placed it against his large one. Hers felt warm and vaguely sticky against his palm, but he was so charmed he would have held it forever.

“Emily, see? We both have a right hand.”

“Where dat hand?” Emily pointed again, still not understanding.

“I don’t have it anymore. It’s gone.” Mike showed her his left side, and his sweater sleeve dangled like a molted snakeskin. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Jim and Laura looking over, with sympathy.

“I see it?” Emily scooted forward with the bus, tucking her leg underneath her, her white tights dirty at the knee.

“There’s nothing inside. Just a big Band-Aid.”

Sara caught Mike’s eye. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Emily rose, but wobbled, fell forward, and whacked Mike’s left arm with the toy bus.

“No!” Mike sprang backwards in pain, and everyone turned at the sound.

“I sorry! I sorry!” Emily dropped the bus and burst into tears.

“Honey, it’s okay!” Mike reached for Emily, but it was too late.

“Mommy!” Emily ran away, crying. “Mommy!”

Chapter Thirty-nine

The next morning, Mike showered, dried off, then braced himself to shave, because he still wasn’t used to seeing his amputation in the mirror. He went to the sink and confronted his reflection, using his coping mechanism, which was to see his body through a doctor’s eyes, pretending he was his own patient, The Podiatric Surgeon With Only One Arm. Otherwise, Mike had no way to deal with the fact that his left arm just stopped in thin air, grotesquely shorter than it used to be, leaving him feeling deformed, inferior, like half a man, though he never acknowledged those feelings, even to himself. He tucked them away each time he tucked his empty sleeve into his pocket, pretending he was whole, normal, and himself again.

So in the mirror, Mike noted that the left arm had been amputated the standard ten centimeters below the shoulder joint and six above the elbow joint, and that the fifty-odd crude, healed stitches over the skin flap on the distal end of his arm formed a raised scar in an upside-down U, or aptly, a frown. There wasn’t much swelling, and the skin color was normal, which meant circulation was good, and bottom line, Mike had what his doctor at Landstuhl had called “a good stump.”