Her Last Letter (13 page)

“So where’s Trevor?”

“He had to leave … for a little while.”

“Oh.”

“So you’re back in town,” I said. “I didn’t think I’d see you here again so soon.”

“And I didn’t think I’d be here either, but it’s only for the weekend, though I’ll probably be coming out more often now. I … worry about my mother, alone like she is. She’s worried too. The stroke’s on her mind, though she tries to pretend otherwise. And what else do I have to do?” He paused as I brought the coffeepot to the table and filled our cups. “I’m joking, of course. I’m swamped with work, and I shouldn’t be here. But sometimes you have to remember what’s really important.”

“Yes, I agree with that.”

I sat across from him and we stared at each other. “So,” I asked, “how was your sister’s wedding?”

“Oh, it was fun. Amy looked really happy, got lots of gifts. It cost a fortune though. I helped my mom with that. How’s she supposed to do it all, living on my dad’s retirement money and not much else? Amy sure doesn’t have any money.”

“Is your mom still working … at the clinic?”

“No, she’s too tired for that. Maybe if she feels better she can go back part-time. She misses it.”

“That’s too bad. I always looked forward to seeing her there. She was the one receptionist who would greet you with a smile even if you were grumpy and miserable with the flu. Such a sweet lady.”

“She liked you too.”

I nodded.

“She hasn’t been the same since my father passed away,” he said. “Getting old really sucks, I guess, and it’s even worse if you don’t have anyone.” He looked up at me then and smiled. “I can’t believe I went so long without seeing you. Stupid of me. No reason we can’t still be friends.”

“No, there isn’t.”

“Aren’t you just a teensy bit worried about what Trevor is going to say when he walks in and sees me here?”

“I would be, but he’s not coming back for a couple of days.”

“Oh. Good. I’m glad. I’ll admit it. I’m glad.” He reached over for a cookie.

“How did you know where I lived, Josh?”

He sat up a little straighter. “Oh. Well, I didn’t follow you here, if that’s what you’re thinking. It came up in a conversation with Caroline. I was over at the bar one night and we got to talking. And you know how she likes to talk.”

“Yes.”

“And I was curious, drove past just to see.”

“You could have called me. I would have told you.”

“I know, but … it doesn’t make any difference, does it? What possible difference could it make how I found out where you lived? It’s not like it’s a secret, is it?”

“No, just … I wondered, that’s all.”

He stared at me, and I saw something in the set of his mouth I couldn’t quite identify. Embarrassment? Anger? He brought his coffee cup to his mouth and took a sip.

“So,” he said, “how have things been with you? Oh, I know what I wanted to ask. How did your art show turn out? I’m sorry I never got over there.”

“It went well. I sold, let me see, about half of the originals, and most of the prints, and got orders for others I ran out of. I was actually surprised with the results.”

“I knew it. Hey, you know what? While I’m here, why don’t you take me through your studio?”

For a second, my thoughts jumbled. It was the way he’d said,
your studio
, like he was familiar with the layout of the house. I’d never mentioned that I had a studio-though maybe he’d just assumed I would-in a house this size. Or Caroline-of course, that was it-Caroline had mentioned it to him. “Yes, I’d love to show it to you.”

“Great, I’d love to see it.”

I began a guided tour of the house. We decided to make my studio the last stop, since Josh might want to spend more time there.

I walked him through the main floor, the entrance with its two-story ceiling, marble floor tile, and walls adorned with paintings-none of which were my own. Then we moved on to the living room with its natural stone fireplace and large windows that overlooked the mountains in daylight, but now sparkled with cascading snow made visible by the incandescent spotlights outside. We stopped and looked out for a while, and I thought how romantic this scene would be if Josh and I were still in love.

He reached over and touched my arm. “Look how beautiful that is. Something, isn’t it?”

We continued on.

“When we’re done with this floor,” I said, “I’ll have to show you the basement. I’ve got this huge cedar sauna down there, and a whirlpool tub, and a shower, and this big exercise room. It was all here when I bought the house. It’s so perfect.”

He nodded and smiled at me.

Finally, we walked downstairs to the basement. “It doesn’t feel like a basement at all,” I said, “with the door walls looking out at the mountains here too.”

Josh stepped into the sauna and gazed around. “You’ve got a really nice place, Gwyn,” he said, stepping out again.

I was reluctant to take him upstairs, not because I didn’t trust him, but because showing him the bed Trevor and I slept together in night after night, seemed not very nice.

“Well,” I said, “you’re probably getting bored. Maybe we should move on to the studio.”

He pointed upstairs. “You missed a floor.”

“Oh. Well, it’s just bedrooms and baths.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I want the whole tour. I paid my nickel.”

I laughed. “Okay.”

We started up the stairs.

I paused before the first of the four bedrooms. “This is the guest room, though it’s never been used for that.” I thought of it as the blue room, the spread on the queen-size bed and the rest of the furnishings all in matching shades of blue.

“Nice,” he said.

We walked to the next door.

“And this is just an extra room. Trevor uses it sometimes for a study, though he also has the real study downstairs.” I didn’t add that this and one of the other upstairs rooms would eventually belong to our future children. Of course, that all rested on me still being married. I gazed into the room with its television, nubby-textured couch concealing a pullout bed, and oak bookcases.

“I like this too,” he said.

“And this is just another room,” I said, about to brush by.

“Wait, I want to see it.” He opened the door and flipped on the light, then looked at me.

I knew he had noticed how the room did not go with the rest of the house. The bedroom furniture was cheaply made and morbidly dark. Kelly had purchased it at a thrift shop and painted it black, probably during some drug-induced euphoria. It was truly ugly.

“Well, I’m not sure I like this,” he said, “but if you do.” He turned to me again.

“It’s Kelly’s old stuff. I’m going to get rid of it.”

“How did it get here?”

I turned out the light. “I brought it here-a long time ago.”

I spent a few moments showing him the hall bath, then moved on to the master bedroom. It was the largest room of all, the king-size bed lost in the spaciousness of it. We stepped into the walk-in closet, Trevor’s things on one side, mine on the other, my side looking empty in comparison to Trevor’s.

“He’s got a lot of suits,” Josh said, so close behind me now that I could feel his warm breath move past my cheek.

I ushered him into the master bath with its gold rimmed and marble tiled Jacuzzi tub, big enough for two people to stretch out comfortably. He pulled open the glass shower door. “Nice. I really like the gold fixtures.”

We left the bath and I walked quickly across the bedroom, hurrying past the bed again. I stopped only after I’d reached the hall. “Well, all that’s left is my studio,” I said, and practically raced for the stairs-afraid to look at him and read something in his face-afraid he might pull me close and try to kiss me-afraid that in my weakened state I might not stop him.

I detoured to the kitchen first and poured more coffee, waiting for my heart to slow down, thinking that I had to get him out the door soon. There was something in the air drifting around us, a soft sensual smoke winding through and circling, curling … coaxing.

“There you are,” he said.

“I got more coffee. You want some?”

He nodded slowly.

I handed him the cup, black, the way he liked it.

“I’m making you nervous, aren’t I?” he said, and took the cup from my hand.

“No.” But I almost spilled the coffee at the brief touch of his fingers on mine.

“Do you mind staying here all alone tonight?”

“Of course not.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“No, and stop it,” I said, knowing he was teasing, and annoyed that he knew exactly what I was feeling. I moved quickly past him before the smoke could draw us any closer. “You have to go.”

“But I haven’t seen your studio.”

“I know, but I think you should go. This wouldn’t look right if someone were to come by.”

“Who’s going to come by?” He looked at his watch. “Oh, well it is eleven o’clock. I suppose you’re right.” I could see a smile beginning to crinkle his eyes. “But I’ll go, Gwyn. I’ll see the studio another time.”

“And I promise I’ll show it to you,” I said, already able to feel the tension easing away, the smoke dissipating.

I let him finish his coffee, then showed him to the door. I waved goodbye as he backed his Explorer down the drive and swung out onto the road, kept waving until his car drew completely out of sight. I felt sad, oddly let down. Though I didn’t want him to, I truly didn’t, it surprised me that he hadn’t so much as tried to kiss me on the cheek.

Later, as I stood looking out the kitchen’s bay window at the heavily falling snow, the phone rang. I knew it was Trevor. It was eleven-thirty, very late for him to be calling, and for a second I thought about not answering, then reached for the phone a moment before the answering machine clicked on.

“Hello?” I said, drawing the word out, trying to sound as if I’d been asleep.

“Hi, honey. I woke you, didn’t I?” It
was
Trevor, his tone of voice appropriately apologetic.

“Yes, I kinda dozed off.”

“Sorry I called so late. I lay down for a minute after dinner and woke up two and a half-hours later. I’m glad you answered.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“It looks like I’m not going to be home until late tomorrow night, unfortunately, but I’ll call if that changes. But everything is going great here. I might even need to hire a few more sales people to take the pressure off the rest of the staff. I did a few interviews this afternoon.”

“That’s good.”

“You do sound tired. Did you have a nice dinner? What did you do?”

“Oh, I went over to the house for a while, then drove into town and used the pool, and later I had dinner at the Italian Underground.”

“Well, that sounds like fun. Did you go by yourself?”

“Yes. I thought about visiting Caroline at work, but she’s too busy on Saturday, but I still could have gone over there. I think I just wanted to be alone.”

“Well, that’s okay. You know, you can call me if you want to. I’m not always busy.”

“Sure, but I know you probably are.”

“I miss you, Gwyn. I wish I could come home sooner. I really do. If there’s any chance of it, I will.”

“I know.”

“I’ll try to call tomorrow, a little earlier. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Did you remember to lock all the doors?”

“Yes.”

“Make sure, and check the windows too.”

“I will.”

“And get some sleep. Sorry I woke you, but I wanted to call even if it was only to leave a message.”

“I’m glad you did. I would have worried otherwise.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, and hung up the phone.

I had trouble sleeping. Though I’d locked every door and checked every window, the slightest sound awoke me, a gust of wind, the furnace rumbling on, a creak from who knows where. I tossed and turned and hugged my pillow.

I had a brief nightmare, and in it Trevor had indeed come home early, and zombielike, floated up the stairs, a razor-edged knife held high above his head. His face, large in the doorway, smiled at me as it bobbed into the room. I was, of course, helpless to protect myself, frozen to the bed, terror flowing out from my body in cold waves.

My eyes snapped open and I inhaled sharply, then lay so completely still I was aware of my lungs expanding and contracting. I reached over and felt for the bedside lamp, fully expecting to see Trevor looking down at me from the end of the mattress. But like magic, he’d seeped through the floor.

After my eyes adjusted to the light, I put on my robe and walked to the bathroom. Something had awakened me, though it might only have been remnants of the dream.

Of course, if someone actually
were
in the house, I would be unable to protect myself. Where was the gun I was supposed to remove from the nightstand when my assailant waltzed through the door? Where was the growling barking attack dog? Where was the elaborate alarm system tied to the police, and the SWAT team, guns hoisted to fire, ready to surround the house?

I walked downstairs, flipping light switches at every opportunity, goose bumps on my arms and the back of my neck. I hummed a tune, comforted by the sound of my own voice. No one was in the house. I’d had too much coffee before bed, that’s all. I should have brewed the decaf, but I knew Josh didn’t like it. Well, at least maybe he wasn’t sleeping well either.

I opened the refrigerator, poured a glass of milk and drank it down. I wasn’t going back to sleep for a while, so I’d use this time to do what I’d thought of doing earlier this evening when I’d led Josh into Trevor’s study. I’d look for clues….

It wasn’t my nature to spy. It was bad enough to hire someone to look into Trevor’s background, but even worse to rifle through his things when his back was turned. I respected Trevor’s privacy, or I had … but ignorance, though blissful, could also be dangerous, I’d decided.

His study was off the hall on the main floor, the last room on the left. I passed the staircase and turned on another light.

His door was open as it usually was. I entered and looked over at the desk and file cabinets, all neat and orderly, not a stray pen or paperclip in view. His computer sat atop his desk, but it would be useless to go into the computer. I didn’t know the security code, and knowing Trevor, he wouldn’t have written it down anywhere.