Negative thoughts. They are coming fast and furious now. Anton’s death has opened the floodgates. The low-lying river of depression has threatened to swamp her before in life, most notably in college, when she had what might be called a breakdown and had to leave school for a semester to enter an eating disorder program. She can feel that pain starting to swell within her again. She needs something to focus on.
Gwen is at the end of the street now, where Nassau Court meets Barstow Road, and the lights are all blazing at Lisa and Marcus’s house. Without hesitation, Gwen strides up the walk, Sababa trotting beside her, and rings the bell.
Marcus answers in sweatpants and a Duke T-shirt. “Hey, Gwen. It’s good to see you. Come on in.” He steps back to allow her through, but she doesn’t move.
“No, no, I can’t. I just want to ask Lisa something.”
“You sure?” He frowns. Marcus has always struck her as a very straightforward guy, one of those men who ascribes to a work-hard, play-hard ethos. Gwen has never really understood what bonded Lisa and Marcus, and now she looks at him with newfound pity. He clearly has no idea his wife was cheating on him while he was hard at work, or away on one of his cycling trips.
“I’m sure. But thanks.”
“Can I give you a hug?”
She nods, stepping forward and allowing him to hug her. He smells nice, like lemon and cedar, and the thought occurs to her that she is hugging the husband of the woman who was sleeping with her own husband. Could she have had sex with Marcus? She shudders at the thought, and he releases her.
“I’ll go get her.”
Gwen stands on the step with Sababa, listening to the sounds of a typical suburban household. The TV going, Marcus calling for Lisa, Kai’s laughter ringing through the house.
Lisa shows up, wiping her hands on the sides of her yoga pants. Her long black hair falls in thick waves past her shoulders. She’s an attractive woman, Gwen cannot deny it, although she finds Lisa’s style a little vulgar. The low-cut tops, the year-round tan, the long nails.
“Hey, Gwen,” Lisa says. “Come on in.”
“No, I’m not coming in.”
The smile on Lisa’s face disappears. “Is everything okay? You seem upset.”
“The pen,” Gwen says. “From the restaurant. Where did you get it?”
“What?” Lisa blinks but doesn’t break eye contact, and in that moment Gwen knows for sure. The certainty is a hot coal in the center of her chest.
“How long?” Gwen asks.
“I’m sorry. I don’t follow.”
“How long were you fucking my husband?”
Lisa winces at the word. She steps outside and shuts the door behind her. “Keep your voice down.”
“I will not.” Gwen steps back. “Why should I?”
“You’re making a scene. It’s embarrassing.” Lisa crosses her arms. “For you, I mean.”
“You afraid the neighbors might hear?”
“You’re making a mistake,” Lisa says. “Anton and I were just good friends. We happened to be in Tampa at the same time, and yes, we had dinner—”
“I know about the tattoo.” It is a long shot. Anton could have made up the part in his book about the ass tattoo. Or could he? It was turning out that he couldn’t make up a damn thing. But Gwen can tell by the look of horror on Lisa’s face she nailed it.
“He told you about that? I was drunk, I shouldn’t have said anything to him about my tattoo.”
“Don’t lie to me, Lisa.”
“You sound paranoid, Gwen. The stress of losing Anton mustbe getting to you. You’re all alone, with two young boys to raise. You’re in your early forties, no real job, no prospects, your looks fading. It must be awful. Terrifying.”
Marcus opens the door, a cautious smile on his face. “Hey, ladies, everything all right out here?”
Lisa twists her body to face Marcus. “Gwen here is a little, shall we say, upset.” Lisa turns back to Gwen and gives her a pitying look. “She’s come here to accuse me of having an affair with Anton.”