Page 34 of Two Couples

I nodded. “You did a great job situating them for maximum privacy. The layout of this one is incredible.”

“Thank you,” Linda said.

We continued to talk about the property, the lake, the proximity to the casinos. The conversation flowed easily, despite a few caustic comments from Jordan. I couldn’t understand why she was so hostile. A knot of worry in my stomach wouldn’t let go. Maybe they saw through our invite—the real purpose to cement ourselves in their opinions as nice people, good people, cherished neighbors. Neither Emily nor I had spoken the words, but we hoped they’d become loyal to us. I didn’t think one spaghetti dinner would accomplish that.

My continuing anxiety that Jordan had seen something roiled my stomach. But it seemed as if she would mention that. Maybe she wanted us to feel the anxiety of not knowing what she knew.

“Where do you work?” Patrick asked. It wasn’t clear who his question was directed at.

Neither one of them answered.

Patrick laughed, a slight edge to his laughter. “Too personal?”

Jordan twirled spaghetti around her fork and put it in her mouth. She reached for the bread and added two more slices to her plate.

“Are you trying to gather information about us?” Jordan asked.

Keith laughed, joined immediately by Emily.

Jordan looked offended at their laughter, which wasn’t surprising because their laughter sounded awkward and forced, as if she’d caught them in the act of inquiring about things that were none of their business.

“We’d like to know you better,” Emily said. “That’s all. There’s no agenda, no information gathering. There are no other neighbors for a quarter of a mile in any direction. Aren’t you glad the house is occupied now?”

“It’s not occupied!” Jordan said. “You show up when you’re in the mood. You already have houses. This is a toy for you.”

“It’s not really,” I said. “It gives us a chance to enjoy this spectacular area and deepen our friendship. We don’t mean to⁠—”

“Whatever.” Jordan pushed her chair away from the table. She grabbed her wineglass and took a long swallow, then stood. “I don’t feel safe here.” She walked out of the dining room and a moment later we heard the front door open. Before it closed, Linda was out of her chair. “Oh, no. She’s upset. I need to…” She gave us a limp smile and hurried after her daughter. The front door closed and the house sank into silence.

Emily glanced at Keith. She smiled and pursed her lips as if blowing him a kiss. Keith glowered, avoiding her gaze. He seemed angry at her, but I couldn’t imagine why.

Then, all of us picked up our wineglasses and took a sip.

TWENTY-FIVE

KEITH

Three Months Ago

Those life-changing words hung in the space between Emily and me—Are you having an affair?

It felt as if that space expanded even as I sat there staring at the frozen TV screen. I could feel Emily beside me. I’d expected an immediate denial. Her silence scared me.

Was she having an affair? The thought made my heart twist and tighten. I couldn’t imagine who it might be. A fellow nurse? A physician? Anyone. It could be anyone. Someone from her past, someone she’d mentioned, or told me a painful breakup story about, and I’d forgotten.

I hated it when she didn’t respond. It wasn’t that she was in the habit of cutting off her thoughts from me. But she did sometimes turn to stone for a moment or two, and it drove me insane. I hated not knowing what was in her head. When asked, she still sounded as if she wasn’t telling me everything.

Emily and I had known each other for ten years and lived together for seven of the ten. There wasn’t a lot I didn’t know about her. But those moments of silence shook me. I didn’t like to be shaken, and usually I wasn’t. It made me feel as if we weren’t on equal footing.

Now, the silence continued. It settled over me like a thick, wet quilt. At this point, our evening was damaged beyond repair. I looked forward to Friday nights, to relaxing and forgetting about work for a few hours. Even if it meant I had to do some light catch-up on Saturday morning, I always made sure to leave work by five o’clock on Fridays.

“Did you hear my question?” I asked.

“I heard you.” She picked up the remote and turned off the TV. She stood. “I’m going for a run.”

“A run? It’s Friday night. You just had two glasses of wine. How can you⁠—”

“I’ll take it easy. But I need to get out of here.”