Undertow (11 page)

For a moment I simply studied his face. Then I released the breath I was holding. “I guess you’re right. I just can’t believe you’re not more… concerned.”

“I’m as concerned as I need to be.” Then he stood and went into the bathroom.

My husband. If I live to be a hundred, I will never understand Bill Kyser. I tell him the biggest news this year, and all he can think about is hitting the showers.

Personally, I can’t stand not knowing more. I wonder how I could find out. Maybe Bryant would know. What if it’s Bryant! No, Lexy always thought Bryant was annoying, loud, and boisterous. It’s funny she’s working with him instead of Billy, though. She and Billy seemed to have gotten past their differences. Maybe she’s embarrassed for him to know. She always did try to put on such an air of superiority around Billy.

I’ll bide my time and be a good friend, but I’m going to find out who this baby belongs to if it’s the last thing I do.

Sept. 15, 19--

Time is unpredictable when you’re a mama. It seems like the days will never end, and then you look up and months have gone by. It’s also very monotonous. I take Jack and Lucy to the park some days, but it’s almost more trouble than it’s worth to get them all packed up and outside. The minute we get anywhere, I have to stop and feed one of them or one of them has a poopie diaper. I know from experience this will pass, but it’s small comfort in the trenches.

We’re closing in on the one-year mark, and the twins are getting so active. Will’s a sweet big brother to them. He gets in from school and goes straight to play with them, which gives me a little break. He’s teaching Jack to catch and Lucy to walk. I’ve told him it’s too early, but he wants to be a good helper.

Billy is still working all the time. I summoned the nerve to tell him I wished we saw each other more, and he told me to schedule a regular date night for us. I didn’t think we could afford it, but who am I to contradict him?

Our first date was dinner at Christine’s, an upscale seafood restaurant in Dolphin Shores. It was awkward, but I chalked it up to being the first time we’d had an adult conversation in practically a year.

I wore a new green dress I’d picked up at one of the Newhope boutiques, and I was almost back to my former size. It had taken more work getting back in shape this go-round.

“You look pretty tonight,” he said.

“Thanks.” I watched as he swirled the amber liquid in his tumbler. Billy had started having a scotch every evening about six months ago. I hadn’t really questioned him on it. I figured it was to ease work stress.

“Do you want to talk about the babies?” he asked.

“Not really,” I said. “Tell me about work.”

“Not much to tell. We’re moving ahead with the next phase. Alex has agreed to stay on and finish interiors through the convention center, and units in one, two, and three are selling as expected. We should start seeing big checks coming in soon.”

“That’s so great, Billy. Maybe we can hire a nanny.”

“You’re tired, I know. I’m sorry I’ve been working so much.” He studied his thick crystal glass. “I know I’m not much help with the kids.”

“It’s okay.” I tried to smile. “You wanted to wait.”

“Yes. I did.”

His answer made me uncomfortable, and we were quiet for a few moments.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” I said. “But aren’t you happy now that we have them?”

“They’re beautiful little babies, and I’m glad they got your blonde hair.”

“And your beautiful blue eyes.” I smiled and reached across the table to lace our fingers.

I knew once the money started coming in things would be different. He wouldn’t work so much, and we’d reconnect. Maybe we could even take the boat out some. I missed our sailing trips.

“Will’s doing very well in school,” I said. “His teachers say he’s one of the smartest kids in the class. He’s already reading. You should hear him.”

“You’ve done a great job with him. He’s a sweet little guy.”

I nodded. “He misses his daddy.”

Billy slanted his eyes, and immediately I wished I could take the words back.

“I can’t keep having this conversation with you,” he said. “I’m too tired to even have the same old arguments again. To remind you what you already know.”

“I know! I’m sorry,” I hastily said. “It’s just that… I miss having someone around to talk to.”

“You could go to Sedona and visit your mother.”

“And pull Will out of school? That wouldn’t work.”

“She visits you a lot,” he said, finishing his drink.

“I know. It’s just the minutes that fill the days. They can be very lonely.”

We didn’t seem to have much to say after that, and we didn’t have another date night. Billy blamed it on work, but I blamed it on my complaining. He’d asked me to make time for us, and I’d gone and brought up the one thing that always pushed us apart. I had to try again. I had to find a way to mend this rift that kept growing bigger between us.

April 15, 19--

We’re breaking ground on our new home on Hammond Island this week. Goodbye city life! The five of us are headed to the exclusivity of that coveted neighborhood of quiet lanes and vast, sprawling estates.

Our house will be the biggest, Billy said. No point in being as successful as he is if you plan to hide your light under a bushel. And Billy’s raking it in these days.

I guess the sad part about your dream coming true is the fear of it stopping. The fear that one wrong move and it’ll all slip away. Billy works just as much now as he ever did, although he says part of it is meeting with contractors and looking at plans for the new house.

He keeps asking me for my input, but I only want two things for sure. Heart pine floors upstairs and a flagstone driveway that wraps around the house to the patio. Oh, and I’d also like a music room. Something pristine and elegant for when Lucy’s grown and wants to put on small concerts for her family. She’ll be an expert pianist, of course.

I also want a nice view from the balcony and patio area. Our lot is situated so that we can see Lost Bay from all angles, and I want to be able to sit outside and watch the water and the boats going by. Billy’s a fan of travertine, and he wants that cool stone installed throughout the first floor. I wasn’t completely onboard with that, but I didn’t argue.

He also wants the exterior to be stucco, which I think is a bad idea for this climate, but he assures me the builders have a new, special type of stucco that’s more durable. I just can’t wait to be the king and queen of South County. I guess in a way we already are, but we need a palace to go with it.

The babies are growing so fast. Both twins are walking now. John started off first at fourteen months, but Lucy took her time. I think the little princess just liked being carried by her daddy, but she finally took her first steps around the eighteen-month mark. Now I’m wondering why I was so eager to get her going. She’s into everything! I look up and she’s pulled her cereal off the table onto her head, and I have to call the maid to come a day early and clean it up.

Will’s doing great as always in second grade. Billy says we’ll have to move him to Sacred Heart once the house is finished. Sacred Heart is the exclusive private school on Terry Cove where all Hammond Island residents send their children, and it’s much closer to our house than Magnolia School. Billy says he’ll get a top-notch education, but I hate it. I know. Originally I wanted him there, but I just hate my little man leaving my alma mater. Magnolia is the sweetest place, and all the teachers love him so much. I’m afraid private school will turn him into a spoiled little rich boy, and I want him to be like his daddy.

Lexy had Julian a few months ago. I remember that night so well. It made me realize how close we’ve all become. Lexy doesn’t have any family left here, so we’re it for her. I was holding her hand when she pushed his little head out, and the two of us laughed through our tears at his first baby cries. There was no sign of his daddy, but I didn’t want to bring up that subject. Besides, Billy was right outside her door when Julian came, pacing the hall like any worried daddy. It was endearing.

Julian has Lexy’s beautiful brown hair, but bright blue eyes. I don’t know where he got them, but he’s just the dearest little thing. It’s made me start wishing for little Megan, but I have to wait at least three more years for that. I can’t handle a newborn until the twins are in school. We have the terrible twos coming up soon, and I can only imagine what Lucy will be like.

Jack is so much like my daddy, I wish he were still around to see his grandson. He was aptly named because their temperaments couldn’t be more alike. I wouldn’t be surprised if he even grew up and wanted to be a doctor, although Billy is already talking about how the boys will both go to Ivy League schools and take over the business once they’re done. That’s fine with me, I’m ready for him to retire.

For now I’m busy picking out fixtures and deciding on colors and furniture schemes. Building a new house is so much fun, and it keeps me occupied. I’m no longer the sad little housewife covered in tiny babies. Things are changing for us.

When he’s at home, Billy is so sweet to me and so involved with the babies. He reads to Will and carries Lucy everywhere. Jack’s his little shadow, following Daddy wherever he goes.

We talked one night and agreed that letting so much time pass being angry and distant was a dangerous thing. It made our relationship so strained and difficult, and we missed each other so much. Now things are as natural as they ever were, and no matter how busy or tired either of us are, we do our best to stay in touch.

Now with our beautiful house, we’re becoming the perfect family I’d always envisioned us being.

Dec. 20, 19--

Dear Journal,

My best friend is sleeping with my husband.

Lexy is sleeping with Billy.

No. What are we calling her now? Alex?

Alexandra Marie LaSalle is sleeping with the father of my children.

…

I don’t remember much before I got to this point, Journal, sitting here writing this to you. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely hold the pen, but the scotch is helping with that.

How did I get here, you ask?

I remember racing through the streets toward my home without even noticing the street signals, the passing cars, or how fast I was driving. I wasn’t crying, but my body kept lurching as if I were going to throw up.

Where had I been?

Let’s see… We were at the annual Kyser-Brennan Christmas party in the penthouse of Phoenician I. We’d been mixing with the staff a while, and then I looked up and saw Billy walking down the hall to where the offices were located.

I went to get a drink, thinking I’d meet him back there. We’d never christened his new office, after all. That’s when I found them. The two of them. Together. In
her
office.

Alex leaning against her table with my husband in her arms.

Him kissing her face, her neck. His hands touching her body…

Next thing I remember, I quickly pulled the car off the road and opened the door to vomit on the ground. A loud horn passed on the other side, and I sat up crying, then shaking.

Alex had tried to stop me, but if she knows what’s best, she’ll stay away from me. I’ll happily kill her tonight.

When I arrived here, at our house, and slammed through the front door, the first thing I came to was the life-sized family portrait hanging in the entryway signed
Alex
.

I tore it off the wall and carried it out the front door. The canvass ripped straight down the middle as it caught the edge of a bronze planter. That seemed right. I threw it through the doorway onto the flagstone pavement. The wooden frame made a nice, heavy splitting noise when it broke into pieces.

Back inside, I made the rounds of the house gathering every piece of evidence that she existed. I found a picture of us on the sailboat hugging and smiling. I put my heel through her face. On the mantle was a shot of the three of us, my husband in the middle with his arms around us both. I almost laughed out loud at that as I slammed it against the mantle over and over.

Glass shards flew everywhere.

The babies will have to stay at Mama’s house until the maid comes and cleans up this mess.

I walked over to the desk and took the top off my husband’s decanter of scotch. I’ve never been much of a drinker, so I poured a tall glass to the brim. My first big gulp burned all the way down, past my shredded heart to my trembling stomach. I coughed and continued looking for evidence of the traitor in my life.

On the table at the foot of the stairs was a shot of the two of us wearing sombreros in Tango Sol. I threw that one as hard as I could, smashing the plate-glass mirror. Upstairs I dug through my husband’s bedside table. I was looking for a letter, a picture, any evidence of how long this had been going on right under my nose.

The one person I trusted most in the world.

The world’s biggest liar.

I found his journal and tore it open. A scrap of paper fell to the floor.