Most Wanted

Chapter Sixteen

Christine was loading the dishwasher when her phone on the counter rang. It was Marcus calling, and on the screen was an old photo she had taken of him, from their first trip to Presque Isle, where his family used to have a vacation house. The Nilssons sailed, and Marcus loved to work on the boat; in the photo, he was hand-sanding its wooden hull with the boombox blasting. What Christine loved about the photo was how carefree he looked, his grin loose and relaxed, his shirt off, his back tanned, his muscles defined, his body effortlessly sexy in the way of twenty-one-year-olds. They had been crazy in love then, with their future ahead of them, their successes merely assumed, their struggles unforeseen. She ignored the lump in her throat to answer the phone.

“Christine? Hey, how are you?”

“Okay.” Christine could read his voice instantly, like any wife. He was still remote but too tired to be angry. “How about you?”

“It was a bitch of a day.”

“I bet.” Christine knew it was code for he was sorry he hadn’t called earlier.

“So did you go to Gary?”

“Yes, Lauren came with.” Christine would’ve bet that he had already talked with Gary, but she was tired, too, and in no mood to play games. “Gary said that we don’t need to sue Davidow but we should sue Homestead, and I’m going along with it.”

“Good, great, well, thanks. I know that was a concession and I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” Christine could tell that he was trying to be nice. It made her want to tell him about the ultrasound, but she didn’t want to risk a fight, and she had a lie to tell. “You know, since you’re not coming home, Lauren and I were thinking about making a girl trip to New Jersey this weekend.”

“Really, what’s going on?”

“Well, you know her parents have a house there, on Long Beach Island?”

“Right, yes.” Marcus sounded vague, and Christine knew he didn’t remember. She barely remembered it herself. It was the only story that she and Lauren could come up with that was virtually uncheckable.

“Yes, her parents have a house there and all the kids use it. You know, one of those deals where they divide the summer into weeks and they rotate?”

“Okay.”

“Anyway, she always gets stuck closing it, but this year she gets to open it, which is a helluva lot easier. She asked if I wanted to go with her. Take a weekend. Just take a break, you know, with all that’s been going on.”

“Of course, right.” Marcus’s voice softened.

“Right.” Christine felt a wave of guilt. “Jessica down the street can take care of the animals, so I think I’m going to go.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning and come back Sunday.”

“Fine. I won’t be home until Sunday night myself. Remember, it’s my dad’s birthday Monday night?”

“Oh, right.” Christine rolled her eyes because she could get away with rolling her eyes on the phone. She disliked her father-in-law, the insufferable Frederik Nilsson.

“We’ll go out to dinner. I made reservations at that Thai place he likes, so you don’t need to cook. Sound good?”

“Yes, that’s great.”

“Okay, I’m beat, so I’m going to turn in.”

“Me, too.”

“Love you,” Marcus said, and for a brief second, he sounded almost like himself.

“I love you, too,” Christine said, touched, but she could hear the defensiveness in her own tone.

“Hey, good night then. Give Murf the Surf a kiss for me.”

“How about Lady?” Christine said automatically, their call-and-response, because he preferred the dog to the cat.

“Her, no. Drive safe tomorrow. The Jersey Shore is a long haul. Good night.”

“Good night.” Christine hung up, then stood still at the counter, the dishwasher door hanging open. She realized she had just lied to Marcus twice, once by omission and once by commission, her old Catholic catechism rising to her consciousness; she had lied about where she was going and she hadn’t told him about the ultrasound. She couldn’t remember the last time she had lied to him, if ever.

Christine looked out the kitchen window, into the darkness of the backyard, and suddenly the motion-detector light went on, which meant that Murphy was at the door, ready to come in. She shook some Cascade powder into the little boxes in the dishwasher door, closed it, and pressed ON, then went to retrieve the dog, so they could both go upstairs and end this hellish day.