Page 57 of Two Couples

When we reached her house, Patrick set Jordan carefully on the ground.

“Thank you so much!” Jordan said. “Maybe your wife doesn’t respect you, but you truly saved my life. I could have been stuck out there past dark, freezing cold, attacked by coyotes.”

I had to physically bite down on my tongue to keep from arguing with her. All that would do was make me look petty. I wasn’t petty. I was recovering from the worst fear I’d ever experienced. I was still scared, angry, and now, jealous of someone who was no threat to me at all. At least, not to my marriage. I still wasn’t sure what she knew about Todd and his death.

After she finished gushing, Patrick scooped her up again and carried her to her front porch. He set her down and waited while she limped into the house. The door closed and he returned to where we were standing.

No one spoke as we climbed the front steps of our house. Emily and I began putting the dinner together while Patrick took a shower. She and I had a glass of wine. She seasoned the steaks and took them outside where Keith had fired up the grill. I did one more toss of the salad, covered it with plastic film, and placed it in the fridge. After washing my hands, I topped off my wineglass and went upstairs to our bedroom.

Patrick was sitting on the bed, arms folded across his bare chest, staring at himself in the mirror above the dresser we shared.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Thinking.”

“About?”

He looked at me as if I was asking an irrelevant question.

“I had no idea where you were, or if you were okay. It was scary.” I looked at him, hoping he’d meet my gaze, stand, and wrap his arms around me.

“I went for a hike. I thought that was obvious.” He gestured toward his boots near the bathroom door.

“I know that now. And you helped bury some rabbits?”

He nodded.

“Why didn’t you text? Or call? Or even do it the old-fashioned way and leave a note this morning? It was upsetting waking up without you in our bed. And all day…” I took a sip of wine. I could feel that my fears and my complaints were sinking into soft sand. In a moment, they would disappear as if they’d never existed. Somehow, he was making me feel as if I was creating unnecessary drama out of a trivial experience.

“Do I have to report when I’m going hiking now? You know how much I love hiking. And here we are, in a place that has breathtaking trails, and the forest is so quiet. At home I can still hear the buzz of small planes, and a lot of the time, even the traffic on the freeway.”

“I know. But you always say where you’re going and when you’re coming back.”

“Do I?”

He was still staring at the mirror, not turning to look at me when he spoke.

I moved toward the bed, thinking I would sit beside him, but as soon as I was close, he stood. “It’s been a weird day. A beer would be nice.”

Now I felt guilty for not having thought to bring one to him, as if I’d somehow let him down after a difficult day. “Sorry,” I said.

“No problem. Is dinner ready?”

“Almost. I just want you to know how it felt. I was terrified, to be honest. Especially because of the murder. And that note. I worried something had⁠—”

“I needed to get my head together because of all this effort to keep a crime hidden in our own house.” He gave me a grim smile.

“It wasn’t in our house!”

He gave me a chastising stare. “I needed to get my head together about the behavior of my wife and our friends. How’s that?”

“Did you? Get your head together?”

He went to the door and opened it, turning back for a moment. “No. I still don’t understand why all three of you want to cover up a murder.”

FORTY-ONE

SAMANTHA