The Wife Stalker

Zodiac nodded and cleared his throat. “As I said before … silence or, better yet, turn off your cell phones. They are a major obstacle to living in the now.” He stood and walked over to a woman across from Piper.

“You are not your thoughts,” he yelled. The woman jumped.

“Yes, that’s startling. But true. Your essence has nothing to do with what you’re thinking.” He tapped a finger to his temple. “Clear away the clutter. One way to do that is meditation. We’ll focus on the basics of that soon. But for now … sit and be in this moment. Look around you. How does it feel to just be?”

Leo shifted in his seat, and Piper, feeling his restlessness, had to resist looking at him. She did her best to concentrate on Zodiac and force her thoughts away from Leo.

An hour later, as they filed out of the studio for a ten-minute break, she turned to him. “So, what do you think?” she asked.

As they moved to a corner of the hallway, he gave her a measured look. “No offense, but it sounds like a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me.”

She put a hand on his arm. “It’s hard for everyone at first. It takes practice. But meditation can be very soothing.”

He held up a finger and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Do I get points for putting it on vibrate?” he joked before answering. Piper walked away to say hello to a few of the other attendees and give Leo some privacy. By the time the break was almost over, he was still on his phone.

He looked up as the sound of wind chimes came through the speakers on the wall, and ended the call. Piper walked back to him.

“Sorry. Work,” he said sheepishly.

“No worries. The next session is only thirty minutes,” Piper told him. “You game?”

“Why not?” He was quiet as they followed the group back into the studio. Piper found she couldn’t concentrate on the mantras the group was repeating, and the half hour passed slowly again. When the session was over, Leo rose from his chair.

“Sorry, Piper. All this is doing is making me think of everything I need to get done.”

She bit her lip. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, this just isn’t for me.”

“I understand. Would you like to join me for some lunch here before you go? After all, you’ve already paid for it.”

He tilted his head. “Tell you what, tofu and green drinks are not really my thing. Why don’t you let me buy you lunch at the Spotted Horse? You do eat regular food, right?”

She laughed. “That I do. I’d love to. Let me just tell Zodiac that I’m leaving.”

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s a made-up name, right?”

She shrugged. “Probably. Good one for a meditation instructor, don’t you think? Meet you in the parking lot.”

Piper stopped by her office for her purse and to freshen up, and when she exited the building, he was waiting for her by his Mercedes. When she approached, he walked to the passenger’s side and opened the door for her. She slid into the supple leather seat and felt butterflies taking flight in her stomach again. She hadn’t been this attracted to someone since Matthew. Her eyes were drawn to his hands on the steering wheel, his long and elegant fingers, and she found herself imagining what they would feel like on her body. Stop it, she scolded herself.

They sat at an outside table, under the orange awnings. Piper looked at the menu, but her stomach was in such a flutter she wasn’t sure she could eat anything. “I think I’ll just have one of the small plates,” she said.

“Really? I’m starving. All that meditating made me work up an appetite.” They both laughed.

“I’m sorry you didn’t like the class,” she said after they’d ordered. “Have you ever done meditation on your own?”

“No. I have to say I don’t see the point of it.”

She nodded. “I think many people feel that way until they try it. I’m sorry this wasn’t a good experience for you today. What were you hoping for?”

He looked away for a moment and then turned his eyes back to her. “I guess I was hoping for some relief.” He paused. “I’ve gone through a rough patch the last few months. But I’m feeling hopeful again.”

“I’m glad. Fred is lucky to have you as his attorney.”

“I’m going to do everything in my power to live up to his faith in me.”

She wanted to offer him a word of encouragement but didn’t want to seem condescending. Instead, she said, “I’m a great listener. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m just a phone call away.”

Leo smiled at her. “Thank you.”

The waiter brought their lunches, the roasted eggplant for Piper and a Reuben for Leo.

“I feel bad that you wasted your money on the workshop lunch. You must let me pay for this to make up for it,” Piper said.

“Absolutely not,” Leo said. “I invited you.”

Piper took a taste of eggplant and watched Leo take a big bite of his sandwich. “How is it?”

He nodded his head. “Delicious.”

She leaned back in her chair. “I know you practice law, and you don’t like meditation,” she said, “but what are some things you do like? What’s your favorite book?”

“That’s easy. The Count of Monte Cristo. Yours?”

“The Alchemist,” she said without hesitation. “Your favorite song?”

“Hmm, that’s a little tougher. Let’s see. Hard to pick one, but if I have to, I guess it would be ‘Black’ by Pearl Jam.”

“Oh, that’s a great one. Mine would be ‘Moon River,’” Piper said. He looked a little taken aback, and she laughed. “What can I say? I was born in the wrong decade.”

“A classic,” Leo said. “Movie?”

“I’m a big fan of old movies. I’ve probably seen every black-and-white film there is, and love them all, but if I had to pick a favorite, it’d be Brief Encounter.”

Leo frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen that.”

“It’s about two married strangers who meet in a train station and fall in love. Very passionate and very sad. And the music! I still get goose bumps every time I hear Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto Number Two.”

He was staring at her with those dark eyes, and she shifted in her chair. “You?”

“Me?” he said.

“Your movie.”

“The Godfather, without question.”

They sat that way, chatting, for over an hour, long after they’d finished eating, and she’d perked up even further when Leo mentioned that he’d become involved with the Save the Sound Foundation in Westport. The organization was now lobbying for a bill that would prevent people from using pesticides on their lawns if they lived within a thousand feet of any waterway.

“It’s infuriating when I’m walking in the beach neighborhoods and I see those little yellow signs on lawns. Don’t they realize that poison runs right into the water? The same water my children swim in.” He shook his head.

“I completely agree. Pesticides are one of the reasons I buy only organic produce. And I never use that poison on my lawn, especially since I’m near the water.”

“A local business owner and a waterfront property holder? We could use another voice like yours at our meetings.”

“When’s the next one?”

“It’s in two weeks. Thursday at seven at the Town Hall.”

She smiled at him. “I’ll be there.” She was thrilled to have another excuse to see him, not that these meetings did any good. It was usually just a bunch of bureaucratic blowhards who loved the sound of their own voices. But she would put up with that if it was a chance to spend more time with Leo. The more she learned about him, the more she saw that he was definitely her type. And she intended to make sure she was his.

| 6 |

JOANNA

The kids and I had been at Compo Beach since midmorning. Though it was still a week before Memorial Day, the sun was shining brightly, and we had camped out near the water’s edge so I could keep a close eye on the children as they played in the water. Even though there were barely any waves in the Sound, they were drifting on their boogie boards back and forth in the shallows, laughing and splashing each other.

“Can we go to Joey’s and get burgers and more fries?” Stelli asked. We’d feasted on the famous French fries and hot dogs at the restaurant next to the pavilion a few hours ago, but they were getting hungry again as three o’clock approached.

“Maybe just some fries. We don’t want to spoil your dinner,” I told him, then held out my hand. “Come on, Evie, we’re going to get a snack.”

I gave Stelli a quarter for the gumball machine and he stood, transfixed as always, as a brightly colored orb journeyed down the spiraled tunnels and landed in his hand.

I turned to Evie. “Do you want one, too, sweetie?”

She shook her head. “No, they’re gross. They’ve been sitting in that thing for who knows how long. Probably since last summer.”

I laughed. “I certainly hope not.”

We got fries for Stelli and an ice-cream cone for Evie, and then found an open picnic table under the pavilion. I shooed a seagull away as we sat. The kids dug in, and I tried hard not to snatch a fry from Stelli’s basket. No matter what I did, I couldn’t seem to get rid of the extra twenty pounds that had been plaguing me for as long as I could remember.

Evie pointed. “Look, there’s Daddy!”

“Where?”

“Right there!” She stood and ran to him. His face broke into a smile when he saw her. Holding hands, they walked over to us.

“What are you doing here? I thought the retreat didn’t end until early evening.” I was happy to have him here, but I had been hoping the workshop would have been useful to him.

He took a seat across from me at the picnic table and shook his head. “If I had to endure another minute of that baloney, I would have gone crazy. I appreciate the thought, but that scene is definitely not my cup of tea.”

But the funny thing was, he looked happier. Maybe he hadn’t realized that it had been a little helpful. I tried to press him gently. “You were there half the day; did you get anything from it?”

“I had a nice chat with Piper, the owner, who, unlike Zodiac, the leader—how’s that for a crazy name?—seems pretty grounded. One thing that did resonate was a quote from Rilke that she wrote down for me,” he said, pulling a card from his pocket. “‘Live the question now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.’”

I stared at him. I almost said, And by then you’ll have forgotten the question, but I could tell he was serious. Maybe you had to have heard it in some kind of context. And if inspirational quotes gave him a foothold on the ladder to health, I sure wasn’t going to question them. “That’s great,” I said, giving him a big smile. “I’m glad you got something good out of it. So, are you hungry?”

He shook his head. “No. I grabbed lunch after I skipped out.” He turned to the children. “Are you little stinkers having fun?”

“Yes!” they answered in unison.

“Are you going to swim with us, Daddy?” Stelli asked.

“You bet, buddy. I’ll go change now.”

The kids finished their snacks and we went back to the beach, where Leo and Stelli splashed around while Evie and I stayed in our beach chairs with our books.

It was good to see Leo laughing and actually enjoying himself. After a while, he swam back to shore and motioned to Evie. “Your brother wants you to go in the water.”

Evie looked at her father over her book. “Okay.”

“Thank you, Evie. You do such a good job of looking after your little brother,” I told her.

Leo ran a hand through his wet hair as he picked up a towel. Beads of water glistened on his toned body, and I had the urge to reach out and touch him. I knew he wasn’t ready for intimacy, though—I’m familiar enough with depression to know it kills sexual appetite along with everything else. I did feel some hope today—his cheery mood was a small glimmer of light breaking through the clouds.

He took the beach chair next to mine, and I handed him a Coke from the cooler. He grabbed the can and took a long swallow. “Thanks, Jo.” Looking straight ahead and keeping an eye on the children, he continued. “I’m going to have to go into the office tomorrow. I hate to work on a Sunday, but you know there’s never enough time to prepare for a trial, and—”

“You don’t have to apologize. I’ve got everything covered. The kids and I will be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. How are you feeling about the case at this point?”

He sighed. “Well, the deposition from the psychologist at the Phoenix Recovery Center will help to show Fred’s commitment to sobriety. I’m rallying the troops tomorrow to give out marching orders. There’s just so much still to do.”

“You always get it done.”

He nodded. “I suppose so.” He leaned farther forward in the beach chair, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together. Without looking at me, he said, “I’m thinking maybe we should cancel the Memorial Day party.”

“What? No, you can’t,” I objected. It was a tradition he’d started years ago, before we’d even met. The party would be a time for him to reconnect with friends and colleagues. Calling it off felt like a step backward in his recovery.

“I’m not in much of a festive mood, and I’ve got so much on my plate with this case.”

“But everyone loves the party,” I said gently. “And besides, you’ll enjoy it once it’s here. You shouldn’t make a rash decision that you’ll regret later.”

He was quiet. After a moment he sat back, and when he looked at me, I saw resignation in his eyes. “Maybe you’re right. But you’ve got a lot on your plate. Especially since Rebecca’s not here.” The children’s nanny had left to care for her father in Michigan after he had had a fall and wouldn’t be returning for another couple of weeks.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” I assured him. He smiled and nodded.

I knew he would be glad once the day came. He’d be surrounded by people who cared about him—clients, colleagues, and friends, all of whom looked forward to it and most of whom had already RSVP’d. I’d given the caterer the final count this morning. It was the same menu every year—barbecued beef and all the fixings. And yesterday I’d placed an order with the florist for the table centerpieces. This year, they would be red dahlias, white lilies, and blue irises in round white vases. There were still a few tasks left to do—I still needed to get in touch with the face painter and magician the kids and their friends had loved last year—but I knew I’d be able to pull it all off.

I looked over at Leo, who had a faint smile on his face as he watched Evie and Stelli splashing around. We were going to come out of this on the other side. I just knew it.

| 7 |

PIPER

Piper lay in bed, eyes open, wide awake. She turned to look at the clock on the bedside table—two a.m. This had been happening to her every night recently—actually, ever since she’d met Leo.

Moving to Westport had been the right decision. At first, she’d been skittish, looking over her shoulder, afraid she’d be found. But after a few months, she’d fallen into a comfortable routine of working at Phoenix all day, then coming home to a quiet house to cook, read, and center herself until the next day. She had promised herself that she would take a year to be alone; that, no matter what, no matter how perfect a man seemed, this time she’d resist.

As soon as she’d met Leo, she’d known it was a promise she wouldn’t keep. But the thought of getting involved with a new man brought up memories of the last one, and thinking of Matthew brought back her nightmares. Dark dreams in which Matthew’s ex-wife chased her, yelling Murderer, murderer!

Throwing back the covers, Piper rose from the bed. There was no way she could go back to sleep now. She made herself some chamomile tea and grabbed her laptop from the counter, though she knew that screen time in the middle of the night was bad for her circadian rhythms. Sinking into the plush sofa cushions, she opened the computer and waited, fingers poised on the keys, for inspiration to strike. She needed to channel her energy into something positive, like a new blog post. Maybe she’d write about starting over.

She’d tried to do just that when she left California after all that blame and finger-pointing. Her mental images of that time still ate at her insides, and she felt a flash of anger burn through her as she looked at the diamond-and-sapphire ring on her right ring finger and remembered how Ava, Matthew’s first wife, had actually accused her of stealing it. But Matthew had given her his mother’s ring when he proposed, with the understanding that it would one day go to his daughter, Mia, on her own wedding day. But of course, that wasn’t going to happen now.

She shook her head as if to sweep the memories away. She didn’t want to let Ava steal one more minute of her peace. Suddenly, she had a different idea for the blog post and found her fingers flying across the keyboard.

HOW TO DEAL WITH THE HATERS

You know who they are—those people who seem intent on nothing but stealing the happiness from others. They’re the ones who see a negative motive in everything you do. Those folks who blame you for everything from the weather to the sinking of the Titanic. They’re haters. They have nothing good to say to you or about you. These are toxic people who need to be cut from your life without a backward glance. Maybe it’s your mother or your father. A sister or a brother. It doesn’t matter. If they’re not having a positive influence on your life, they don’t belong in it. Find a new sister, a new brother. Blood is not destiny. True connection arises out of mutual respect and benefit. Take a good look around you, identify them, and eliminate these bloodsucking parasites now. Before they ruin your life.

She stopped, her breath coming in short gasps. She couldn’t post this. The center’s blog—really, its whole image—was all about positivity. But it had made her feel better to put the words on the page. She highlighted the whole paragraph and hit Delete. Thinking of her audience, she began a new post.

MOVING ON AFTER LOSS

Life isn’t fair—how many times have you said that to yourself and to others? That simple statement, though true, doesn’t begin to plumb the depths of sadness and despair you often experience when something truly terrible happens. After a tragedy, the days are dark, filled with whys and what-ifs: What if you hadn’t argued? What if you had pulled up to that intersection five minutes earlier? Why do you feel so guilty? Why my husband? Why now?

There are the days when you feel fragile, as if you were made of glass and could shatter at any moment. And finally, when you think you will never smile with pure happiness again, acceptance comes. You will recognize its arrival by the awakening of emotions that you’ve held at bay for so long. Suddenly, you will find yourself hoping to meet someone with whom to share the rest of your life. And if you’re lucky enough to find that person, I say to you, pursue it with all your might. Don’t be afraid. Don’t let obstacles deter you. If it’s worth having, it’s worth fighting for. Life is short. Don’t let the past keep you from reaching out to grab the future. Believe that it is possible to love with your whole heart again, and to be loved in return. No matter the cost. Peace and Blessings.

That was better. Piper shut down the computer, put her hands behind her neck, and stretched. She’d post it tomorrow. All the blog posts were signed simply with “Phoenix” rather than her name. Let readers make of it what they would.

It was already four o’clock, only an hour before her alarm was set to go off. Even if she managed to fall asleep for the next hour, she knew she’d get up feeling worse. The meeting for Save the Sound wasn’t for two more weeks, and she hated that she had to wait that long to see Leo again. They’d exchanged mobile numbers, so maybe she’d send him a flirty little text in the meantime. She pulled her phone out and swiped to his contact. Thinking a moment, her fingers began to type: Guess what I just picked up at the bookstore. The Count of Monte Cristo. Maybe we can have a little book club meeting when I’m finished. xo. She hit Send and then allowed herself a moment to relive their lunch together, feeling warm inside. Suddenly, images of Matthew and his daughter flashed through her head again.

“Go away!” she shouted.

Matthew was gone, and nothing would bring him back. She stood up straighter and took a deep breath. It was time to put old ghosts to rest.

| 8 |

JOANNA

I had only a few hours to finalize all the details before the guests began to arrive for the party. Pouring a cup of coffee, I sat at the kitchen table and went over the list one more time. I decided to see if perhaps my mother would change her mind and come. At first, she had promised to be there, but then she’d called me two days ago to say she was under the weather. When I took her to the doctor yesterday, he could find nothing wrong, but she still insisted that she was too tired even to attempt a showing. She’d battled chronic fatigue syndrome and depression for as long as I could remember, vacillating between bouts of energy and months when she could barely get out of bed, so I’d learned to become self-sufficient at an early age. I brought her number up on my phone. It rang seven times, and, just as I was about to hang up, she answered.

“Hello?” Her voice was thready.

“Hi, Mom. Just calling to see how you’re feeling.”

“A little better, hon. Just tired. Ready for the big day?”

“Pretty much. Are you sure you don’t want to come for a little bit?” I asked, even though I knew crowds made her anxious and she’d feel out of place. She rarely ventured from her house, and I wished there were a way I could help her to expand her world.

“No, I’m going to take a pass. I’ll finish the jigsaw puzzle you got me. I love this kitten one. It’s much better than the one you brought over last month with all those skyscrapers.”

Why were her compliments always backhanded? I bit back the urge to snap at her; this was one of the things Celeste and I were working on in therapy. “I’m glad you like it, Mom. I’m just sorry you’re not up to coming.”

“Besides, it’s no fun going unescorted. Just another casualty of being left by your husband,” she continued, a whine in her voice.

My parents had gotten divorced a lifetime ago, when I was only nineteen, but my mother still played the martyr all these years later.

I suppressed a sigh and forced a cheerful note into my voice. “Okay, then. Get some rest. Feel better.” I hung up.

The kids were bursting with excitement, counting down the hours until the fun began. Practically every area of the backyard had been designated for one kind of game or another. There was a face-painting station, a bouncy house, a row of carnival games with stuffed animal prizes, and a snack bar for the kids with all sorts of delicious treats, my favorite being the caramel apples. There was even a photo booth. When they got tired of all of that, the saltwater pool had been filled with floats of all shapes and sizes, and we’d hired two lifeguards to be on duty for the party. Many of the adults would enjoy one of the two hot tubs and the frozen drink bars set up next to them, with bartenders at the ready. Aside from the standard Memorial Day fare of hot dogs and hamburgers, the spread would include pit beef barbecue, corn on the cob, coleslaw, potato salad, baked beans, and watermelon. No one would leave hungry.

I poured myself another cup of coffee and started to review the list one last time, then realized that Stelli and Evie already had their bathing suits on.

“Guys, get over here—let’s get some sunscreen on you before we forget.”

Evie came right away, but Stelli ran in the other direction. I sighed. I didn’t have time for this today, but I knew that Stelli wouldn’t respond to my being cross, so I got Evie covered in lotion, then called to her in a stage whisper. “I wonder where Stelli has gone. Did he disappear? I can’t see him.”