Chapter 2 - MY BIRTHDAY BREAKFAST
I left the bedroom.
Not the house.
That disappointed me later.
Courage is rarely efficient.
I went downstairs and made coffee.
For myself.
Not Theresa.
Not Mitchell.
The kitchen already held evidence of the dinner she expected me to cook.
Three trays of vegetables.
Two roasts.
Dessert ingredients.
Crystal glasses arranged for twelve.
I stared.
“Twelve?”
Theresa entered behind me.
“It’s Sunday.”
“It’s my birthday.”
“Exactly. Family is coming.”
“I didn’t invite anyone.”
“You don’t invite family.”
There was the Carter philosophy.
Family entered.
Family decided.
Family consumed.
The person least entitled to preferences was usually the woman married into it.
I poured coffee.
Theresa said:
“You embarrassed Mitchell upstairs.”
I laughed.
“He came home with lipstick on his collar.”
“A mark proves nothing.”
“You smiled when I saw it.”
“I smiled because you always make everything dramatic.”
That phrase again.
I reached for my phone.
“Then there’s nothing to worry about.”
Her eyes dropped to my pocket.
The letter.
“Who sent it?”
I did not answer.
Mitchell entered ten minutes later wearing a clean shirt.
Collar buttoned.
No lipstick.
That almost made me laugh.
He sat across from me.
“Can we talk privately?”
“No.”
Theresa looked offended.
Mitchell’s eyes hardened.
“Danielle.”
“No.”
“Stop acting like this.”
“Like what?”
“Hostile.”
“You came home smelling like another woman.”
“I was at a client dinner.”
“At Pine Hollow?”
His fingers stopped moving.
Theresa looked at him.
So the cabin had a name.
I had not said it.
Mitchell had.
Interesting.
I sipped coffee.
“Who is she?”
“No one.”
“Then why were you there?”
“I wasn’t.”
“You just named the cabin.”
Silence.
Theresa said:
“Pine Hollow belongs to the family company.”
I looked at her.
“Does it?”
“It’s used for executive retreats.”
Mitchell shot her a look.
Too late.
“Executive retreats with lipstick?”
Theresa slammed her palm on the table.
“Enough.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
She almost seemed startled.
Mitchell tried another approach.
“Danielle, whatever you think you know, you don’t have context.”
“Good. Give me context.”
He looked at the letter.
“Open it and you’ll make decisions you can’t undo.”
“That isn’t context.”
“It’s a warning.”
“A threat?”
“No.”
“Sounds like one.”
He stood.
I stood too.
Immediately.
He noticed.
Something shifted in his face.
He had never hit me.
Never shoved me.
But for the first time I realized I had started anticipating what his body might do before he did it.
That knowledge changed the room.
He stepped back.
Good.
Then the doorbell rang.
Family.
At nine in the morning.
My birthday breakfast apparently had guests.
Mitchell’s older sister Catherine entered first.
Then his uncle Robert.
Two cousins.
Theresa transformed.
Smile.
Perfume.
“Danielle is having a difficult morning.”
I stared.
There it was.
The narrative being created in real time.
Catherine hugged me.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thank you.”
Then noticed the destroyed food upstairs? No.
She saw nothing.
Not yet.
I took my coffee to the back patio.
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One text.
DO NOT BREAK THE SEAL UNTIL YOU ARE WITH YOUR OWN LAWYER.
I stared.
Another message followed.
Mitchell believes the original was destroyed.
My pulse changed.
Original.
Not copy.
I looked through the glass door.
Mitchell was watching me.
He could not see my screen.
But he could see my face.
He knew someone had contacted me.
He crossed the kitchen quickly.
May you like
Before he reached the patio door, my phone buzzed again.
And do not tell Theresa who gave it to you. She doesn’t know the cabin was being used for more than the affair.
