Big Girls Don't Cry Page 3

  Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder boomed in the distance. Then the patter of the rain grew deeper, sounding like tiny pebbles bombarding the windshield. “I hope so,” Reenie replied. She missed Keith when he was gone, missed his warmth in her bed, his support with the girls, the smile he reserved for her alone. She felt as if half her life was locked in cold storage. But when Keith came home, he made the wait worthwhile.

  She felt decidedly warmer remembering the last time they’d made love. They’d been as eager for each other as if they’d been newlyweds, despite the fact they’d been married for eleven years. Maybe the absences did that for them. Maybe the traveling, much as she hated it, wasn’t all bad.

  She had to believe that, didn’t she? Or she wouldn’t be able to tolerate his job any longer.

  Their small wooden house came up on the right, a few miles after the cozier neighbourhoods of Dundee gave way to ranchettes. As soon as Reenie pulled into the driveway, Jennifer released her seat belt and pounded the back of Reenie’s seat in excitement. “Hey, you’re selling Dad’s Jeep!”

  Reenie gazed at the vehicle parked beneath the tarp Keith had attached to the side of the garage. She’d just put the For Sale sign up this morning. “I’m trying.”

  “After it sells, will we have the money to buy a horse?” Jennifer asked.

  The engine sputtered as Reenie turned off the ignition. “I doubt it, honey. We don’t have anywhere to stable a horse.”

  “We have a big yard. The Oakleys down the street have horses.”

  “We’d have to build stables in back or pay the Oakleys for board. And I’m sure your dad won’t go for either option. He’s planning to buy a motorcycle with the money.”

  “Maybe we’ll get enough for both.” Angela tugged her backpack onto her shoulder. “Has anyone wanted to buy it yet?”

  “Not that I know of.” Reenie selected the key that opened the house so she’d be ready for the dash across the wet yard. “Someone might’ve called, but I’ve been gone all day.”

  “Let’s go see!” Isabella said.

  Reenie grimaced at the sky, hoping for a letup that didn’t appear to be coming. “There won’t be many people out looking at cars in this weather.”

  “It’ll sell,” Jennifer said confidently. “Everyone loves the Jeep.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Reenie wanted part of the money, too—for Christmas.

  “Hey,” Isabella said, her voice so loud it nearly made Reenie’s ears ring. “Uncle Gabe brought our swing!”

  Since the accident, Gabe had started making the most beautiful armoires, rocking chairs, beds, tables—even clocks and, evidently, tree swings. But after the way he’d handled their meeting with Lucky this morning, Reenie didn’t want to think about him or his peace offering. She didn’t want to forgive her brother too fast. She’d tried calling Lucky twice since breakfast and hadn’t been able to reach her.

  “Remember to take off your boots in the mudroom,” she said as she stepped out of the car. “I just had the carpets cleaned.”

  They all ran for the back door and piled into the little antechamber that led to the kitchen. Old Bailey, their bassett hound, greeted them by wagging his whole hindquarters as they tossed their boots in a corner and hung their raincoats on hooks.

  Reenie finished first because she wasn’t wearing a hat or a sweater under her coat and passed into the kitchen to find the light blinking on her answering machine. Pressing the button that would deliver her messages, she leaned on the counter, hoping to receive some word from her husband.

  Sure enough, Keith’s voice came into the room, as warm and steady as always. “Hi honey. I’m still in L.A. It looks like it’ll be a few more hours, so I’m going down the street for a real meal. Don’t wait up for me. I love you,” he said. “I’ll get home as soon as I can.”

  The machine beeped and Reenie stood. Yet another night alone with the girls.

  “His job’ll be the death of me,” she muttered.

  Los Angeles, California

  ISAAC HELD TIGHT to his boarding pass as he strode briskly through the airport, weaving in and out of the small clusters of people who were toting more luggage than he was or had stopped for one reason or another. His plane was leaving in forty-five minutes, which meant they’d be boarding in fifteen. Seven hours after that, he’d reach Chicago, where Reg would pick him up and take him home. He’d get in late, but the thought that he wouldn’t have any trouble making his meeting tomorrow morning filled him with relief.

  Hiking the bag that contained his laptop computer higher on his shoulder, he left the ticketing area. But when he reached the security checkpoint, he felt a flicker of concern. The line was longer than he’d expected, and it wasn’t moving very fast.

  “Come on, come on,” he muttered impatiently, tapping his boarding pass against the palm of one hand as they inched slowly forward.

  A moment later, the line stopped altogether.

  What was the holdup? Leaning to the left, he tried to see around the people in front of him. An old lady was arguing with security personnel about having to remove her shoes, as if she hadn’t watched everyone else do the same thing for the past thirty minutes. A couple of college boys were taking their computers out of their bags and putting them in gray bins.

  God, at this rate—

  Suddenly Isaac caught sight of someone familiar. The man had his back to him, so it was difficult to be sure, but he looked exactly like Keith.

  He had to be wrong, of course. His brother-in-law had called Elizabeth just an hour or so ago to tell her he’d arrived safely in Phoenix. If he was in Phoenix, he certainly couldn’t be here.

  But that guy…

  Moving to the other side of the line, Isaac tried to get a better look. At first someone inadvertently blocked his view, but then the line spread apart and Isaac finally caught the profile of the man he’d been trying to see.

  It was crazy! He looked exactly like Keith. He was even wearing the same camel-colored overcoat.

  The strange feeling he’d had earlier that morning, the sense that something was terribly wrong, swept over Isaac again. He didn’t care what Elizabeth had said about Keith reaching Phoenix, this man was her husband. The longer Isaac watched, the more certain he became.

  Taking his cell phone from his bag, he dialed Elizabeth’s number. “Hey, Liz,” he said when she answered.

  She sounded surprised to hear from him, probably because she’d only dropped him off a few minutes ago. “Did you miss your plane?” she asked.

  “No, I’m going through security right now.”

  “Then…did you forget something?”

  “I don’t think so. I was hoping…” He cleared his throat. “Keith made it safely to Phoenix, right? I mean, he called you before we left the house, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah. He called around two.”

  “Did he say what the weather was like?”

  “Nearly eighty degrees. In November. Can you believe it?”

  “No.” He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that Keith was even in Phoenix, because Isaac was standing right here, staring at him. “You don’t think he forgot anything, do you?”

  “No, why?”

  “Just wondering.”

  “Isaac, you’re acting strange.”

  A woman’s voice came over the intercom. “This is a security announcement…”

  Isaac bowed his head so he could hear above the noise.

  “What do you care about the weather in Phoenix?” Elizabeth was asking him. “And what do all these questions mean?”

  Isaac couldn’t say what was going on. But he was determined to find out. “Nothing. I’m…” His mind groped for an explanation.

  “You’re what?” she said when he didn’t finish.

  Reeling… “Passing the time,” he finished lamely. “Keith and I didn’t get much of a chance to talk, and I was curious about his schedule. When do you expect him back?”

  “In two weeks or so.”


  “Is he always gone two weeks?”

  “Give or take a day here and there. If the kids have something special, he’ll occasionally come home early. Sometimes work demands that he make allowances on the other end.” She paused. “Why?”

  “No reason,” he said, feeling numb as he imagined Keith on the phone to Elizabeth. I’m here in Phoenix…the weather’s beautiful…nearly eighty degrees…

  “Isaac, what’s the matter with you?” she asked.

  She didn’t suspect Keith’s deception, he realized. His baby sister, who’d already been through so much, probably had a nasty surprise in store for her, and he was going to have to be the one to break the news to her.

  But not now. Not until he knew exactly what was going on. “Nothing.”

  “Something’s wrong. You never act like this.”

  He swallowed a sigh. “I’m fine. I’ve gotta go, okay? I don’t want to miss my plane,” he said, and hung up.

  Fortunately, the line was now moving faster. Ahead of him, Keith went through the metal detector, then started putting on his expensive Italian loafers.

  In a few seconds he’d be fully dressed, recover his belongings and head to his gate, Isaac realized. But which gate would that be? Isaac had to know.

  Letting the stress he felt show in his face, he turned to the person in front of him. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m about to miss my plane. If you can afford the time, would you mind letting me go in front of you?”

  It was a woman and her daughter. They politely stepped aside and let him through, and several more people did the same. He was nearly to the metal detector when Keith slung his carry-on over his shoulder and walked off.

  Isaac cleared security and collected his things, hesitating briefly when he realized that Keith had moved in the opposite direction to the one Isaac needed to go. If he followed his brother-in-law, he’d miss his plane. Which meant he’d miss his interview.

  Picturing his sister at the breakfast table this morning, so trusting and gullible and, along with her two kids, disappointed to see her husband go, he cursed softly. Then he gazed down the long corridor, managed to pick his brother-in-law’s tall figure out of the crowd far ahead and started to follow.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ALONE ON THE TENNIS COURT, Elizabeth lowered her racquet to glance at the new diamond-studded watch Keith had given her for their eighth wedding anniversary a few weeks ago. It was just after six. Renate, who helped them out for a couple of hours each afternoon, would’ve picked up Mica and Christopher from their various after-school activities by now. They were probably already on their way home.

  Elizabeth wanted to be with them. Usually she enjoyed going to the country club, especially when Keith was home. They played doubles as often as possible. But she wasn’t in the mood to be here right now. It wasn’t easy having Keith and Isaac leave on the same day. Their departures allowed the loneliness that sometimes plagued her to move closer.

  Holding her racquet between her legs, she adjusted the ribbon that gathered her thick blond hair into a ponytail and attempted to shrug off her melancholy mood by telling herself the exercise would be good for her. Keith had given her these lessons for her thirtieth birthday two months ago and expected her to take them. She could do that much. He loved that she could beat almost any woman she played, even most men, and didn’t want her to lose any of her ability.

  He didn’t want her to lose her figure, either. Which was probably why he insisted that they were finished having children, even though Liz would have liked one more.

  She winced at the memory of the comment he’d made when they were making love the other night. “Wow, babe, what are you eating when I’m gone? Feels like you’re putting on a few pounds.”

  He was right, of course. She was comfort eating, trying to help pass the long evenings when he was away. But it wasn’t as though she’d turned into a blimp.

  Throwing the ball into the air, she smacked it hard and watched it rocket to the other side of the court. It landed right in the corner, almost on the line. A perfect serve.

  “Looking good.”

  Dave Shapiro, the club pro, had finally deigned to show up for her lesson. But, from the way he was watching her, she couldn’t tell if he was referring to her serve or her legs.

  “You’re late,” she said.

  As usual, her attempt to redirect his interest did little good. “I’m worth the wait.”

  She adjusted her visor as he swaggered over—and stiffened when he stood behind her, lifting her arm in the motion of her serve.

  “You were holding your wrist like this, see?” He made a point of having her look up. “That’s exactly the way I want you to hold it. Every time.”

  He was a little too close. Liz could feel his body’s heat, despite the cool November air, and remembered some of the suggestive things he’d said to her in the past. She knew, if she gave him any encouragement, he’d flirt even more.

  But she’d never get seriously involved with him. No matter how handsome he was. No matter how badly she needed to feel desirable. After going through some of the most difficult years of her life without a mother, she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her own small family.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, you know that?” he said.

  “And you’re about seven years too young for me,” she replied, smiling because he was so obvious.

  He shrugged. “That isn’t the reason you’re not interested.”

  Maybe Dave was cocky, but she appreciated how honest and direct he could be. “Not exclusively, no.”

  He hesitated for a moment, his attention roving over her short skirt. “Your husband’s a lucky man.”

  “Commitment’s an important part of loving someone, don’t you think?” she said, and served again. Too long.

  When his eyes finally met hers, his grin spread up one side, making him appear even more boyish than usual. “I think your husband’s gone too often. It isn’t wise to leave a wife alone so much.”

  “He trusts me,” she said simply.

  Dave cocked an eyebrow at her. “Do you trust him?”

  “Of course.”

  “You don’t think he’s ever visited a bar or a strip club and wound up in someone else’s bed?”

  To be honest, she had considered that possibility. Her husband retrieved his voice mail and his e-mails when he was away, and responded if she needed him. But he never answered his cell phone during those long absences and rarely bothered to call her. She often wondered what he did when he had some spare time. Especially on holidays. At least once a year, he missed a major holiday because a network went down somewhere in the company. Did some of the other guys ever take him out for a drink? Or to a party?

  She couldn’t picture it. He said most of the guys at work were jerks and he refused to socialize with them. He wouldn’t even attend the annual Christmas party. When she asked him how he spent his evening hours, he denied having any fun at all. “I try to get as much done as possible while I’m gone so I can be more available to you and the kids when I’m home,” he said. And he made it easy for her to believe him. Although he worked while he was home—quite a bit, actually—he was completely devoted to her and the kids. She’d never seen him so much as look at another woman.

  So rather than become an insecure nag, she’d chosen to trust him.

  “He’s a workaholic, which keeps him pretty busy,” she said. “And he loves our kids as much as I do.”

  Dave reached down to retrieve a stray ball. “Maybe you’re as lucky as he is. But if I were a gambler, I wouldn’t bet on it.”

  “You barely know him!” she said.

  “He’s a man, isn’t he?”

  “That’s pretty cynical, not to mention sexist,” she accused, slugging him halfheartedly in the arm. “Anyway, you’re wrong.”

  “How do you know?” he asked.

  She claimed the ball and served again. “Because I know my husband.”

  * * *

 
AT THE AIRPORT, Isaac sat in a row of chairs one gate away from Keith. Other passengers crowded into the space between them, occasionally obstructing his view, but Isaac didn’t move any closer. He didn’t want his brother-in-law to know he was being watched, even though, from what Isaac could tell, he didn’t appear to be particularly concerned about those around him. He didn’t seem to be doing much of anything unusual—except going to the wrong city. According to the sign behind the desk, he was waiting for a flight that had been scheduled to leave for Boise, Idaho, this morning but had been delayed because of bad weather.

  Boise. Why in the world would Keith be going there? Isaac might have guessed that Softscape, Inc., the company Keith worked for, had decided to send him somewhere else at the last minute. But that call saying he’d arrived safely and was already enjoying the sunshine made no sense. A man didn’t play such an elaborate charade without a reason.

  What was Keith’s reason?

  Isaac glanced at his watch. He’d missed his own flight to Chicago more than thirty minutes ago, so that decision had already been made. He knew he might regret his actions—certainly Reginald hadn’t been happy to hear the news—but Isaac felt strongly about getting to the bottom of his brother-in-law’s mysterious behavior.

  In order to do that, he needed to follow Keith to Idaho. But if he took the same flight, he risked being seen.

  He considered making arrangements through another airline, but decided it would be too difficult to coordinate his arrival with Keith’s. He was afraid if he let Keith out of his sight for very long he’d lose him.

  Isaac contemplated several different scenarios before deciding that his best bet was to buy a first-class ticket on Keith’s flight. He’d board before all the other passengers, sit in the last row of coach and bury his nose in a newspaper. Unless the flight was packed, which he could already tell it wasn’t, he doubted anyone would even sit next to him. His brother-in-law would get on and most likely take a seat much farther toward the front. Then Isaac would follow him off the plane when it landed.

  The woman behind the counter was telling folks it’d be at least another hour before Keith’s flight could take off. Isaac had heard her say it half-a-dozen times, so he wasn’t concerned about being able to purchase a ticket. There were a lot of people milling around, but most seemed to be waiting to go to Portland.