I turned back to the stove and stirred the gravy that didn’t need stirring because, somewhere in my chest, a small, tight knot had started to pull.
Chloe caught my eye across the kitchen.
***
The Sunday after Chloe’s little Cinderella joke, I watched Richard like a woman studying a suspect through a two-way mirror. He was carving the roast beautifully, but also checking his watch between slices.
“Big plans tonight, Richard?” I asked, sliding the potatoes over.
“Oh, nothing exciting. I’ve got a client in Singapore, believe it or not. Eight o’clock call.”
Chloe’s fork paused halfway to her mouth.
I watched Richard like a woman studying a suspect.
“Singapore? On a Sunday?”
“Markets never sleep, kiddo.”
“Cool,” my daughter said. “Neither do plumbers, apparently.”
I nearly choked on my water. Two weeks earlier, Richard had rushed out, claiming a plumber was coming to his house at 9 p.m. Even Mom had blinked at that one.
Richard laughed it off, but there was a stiffness around his eyes that hadn’t been there when he’d first started coming over.
I nearly choked on my water.
The following Sunday, by 7:25 p.m., his leather briefcase was already in his hand. This time, it was the neighbor.
“Mr. Mendez can’t get his blood pressure pills open. Arthritis. I told him I’d swing by.”
“That’s so sweet of you,” Mom said, glowing.
“So sweet,” I echoed, and Chloe kicked me under the table hard enough to bruise.
“I told him I’d swing by.”
By 7:30 p.m., the porch light was clicking on behind Richard, and the leather tote was tucked under his arm as if it were full of state secrets. Every single Sunday. Like clockwork. Like a man on a leash, we couldn’t see.
***
After the dishes, I trapped Mom by the sink.
“Mom, can I ask you something without you getting mad?”
“That’s usually a great start, Avery.”
I trapped Mom by the sink.
“Six months you’ve been dating this man. Have you been inside his house? Even once? Have you seen his kitchen? His couch? His mailbox?”
She turned the faucet on harder than the dishes required.
“He’s private.”
“He’s evasive.”
“There’s a difference.”
“Is there? Because Chloe says twice now she’s watched him turn south after dinner, and he supposedly lives 20 minutes north.”
Mom’s shoulders went tight. She set the plate down with a small, sharp clink.
“He’s evasive.”
“I trust him, Avery.”
“Mom, I want to trust him too. I want that for you. But a grown man with no wife, no kids, no roommate, and no reason to be anywhere at 7:30 p.m. on a Sunday…”
“Maybe he has reasons I don’t need to know yet.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
She looked at me then, and I saw something under the defensiveness. Mom knew it too. She just wasn’t ready.
“That’s exactly the problem.”
“Please,” she said quietly. “Let me have this. Even if it turns out badly, let me have the part where I still get to hope.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. So I dried a plate.
***
Later, on the porch, Chloe sat on the top step with her knees pulled up. I sat down beside her.
“Grandma knows something’s up. She’s just scared.”
“Let me have this.”
“Chloe. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
“I’m not thinking anything.”
“You’re always thinking something. Your face has a thinking setting, and it’s currently on.”
My daughter smiled a little.
“Richard has another woman. Doesn’t he?”
“We don’t know that.”
“Or another family. A whole secret family in a house with a plumber that only works at night.”
“Chloe.”
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
“What? I’m just saying what everyone is thinking. Grandma is thinking so, too. She just won’t say it because if she does, it might be true.”
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.
“Her birthday is next Sunday,” I said. “I’m asking you, as your mother and as a coward, to please just let us get through dessert. We’ll deal with Richard afterwards.”
