“So you must have waited a long time to have children,” my mother the questioner continued.
“Actually, no.”
“Then you waited a long time to get married. You must have been what, about thirty-six or thirty-seven? Being a bachelor all those years must have made it hard to get used to a family.”
For the first time ever, Barry appeared uncomfortable. He was looking down at the table.
“My job made it . . .” Barry began. Then he cleared his throat and looked directly at my mother. “Okay, I wasn’t single all that time.”
My mother leaned closer to the table, her eyes locked on him. “What exactly does that mean?”
Barry turned toward me. “This isn’t how I planned to tell you, but I was married twice before.”
The news hit me like a boulder in the chest. I could feel everyone staring at me. At that moment Peter walked in. My older son looked around the table and quickly assessed that something was going on. As he pulled out a chair and sat down, I pushed mine back and went outside.
Barry followed.
I walked far out into the yard and flopped on a bench in the corner.
He stopped in front of the bench and stood over me. “I always planned to tell you. But when I didn’t mention it at first, it became awkward.”
“Kids?” I said in a low voice.
I heard him blow his breath out. “A daughter, but she stayed with her mother and I’ve had virtually no contact.”
My head swirled with all this new information. “Do you think that makes it okay not to mention her?”
“No,” Barry said with regret. “I didn’t mention it at first because being divorced twice makes me sound like a relationship washout.”
“Is that why you’re so intent on getting married again? Do you think three times is the charm?”
He pulled me up to face him. “No, I think you’re the charm.”
My stomach was doing flip-flops. I had been wondering about a relationship with someone who always had one foot out the door and who disappeared for days. I wanted something casual, but with someone who was there. And now this news. How could he have just left out a wife and daughter?
I heard the back door open and turned away from Barry. My father walked across the yard.
“There was someone on the phone just now. They asked for you and when I said I’d get you, they said just to give you this message.” He held out a piece of paper. “I wrote it down to make sure I got it right. The person wouldn’t leave a name. They said to stop meddling or else. Molly, are you in some kind of trouble?”
I could feel Barry’s eyes boring in my back.
“What did I tell you?” he said in a low voice.
I ignored him and laughed, saying I was sure it was just my friend Dinah’s idea of a joke.
My father appeared relieved and patted my arm reassuringly. Then after a quick glance at Barry, he walked back to the house.
I’d had a moment to think, and I turned back to Barry.
“I can’t do this anymore. You’re gone all the time, and now I find out you left out a big hunk of your life. A whole wife and daughter.”
“Molly, we can work it out. I promise that’s the only wife and daughter I didn’t mention,” he said in a vain attempt to lighten the moment.
The back door opened again and the dogs came flying out. Cosmo ran up and sat between Barry and me.
“I’m sorry. The reason—” His cell phone interrupted him. His eyes held mine with a pleading look while the phone continued to go off. For a moment I thought he was going to ignore it—that this moment between us trumped everything, even his job. But then his features evened out and the emotion disappeared in his expression as he flipped open the phone.
“Greenberg,” he said, all business again. He pulled out his notebook and wrote something down before hanging up. “I have to go, but we’re not done. Okay?” He didn’t wait for an answer, probably because he was afraid of what it would be.
Cosmo followed behind him and then sat at the gate watching as Barry walked down the driveway. I called the dogs and went back inside to the table, trying to act as if nothing had happened. As my mother focused on my face, she began a speech about how sometimes bad things happened for good reasons. It was some spiritual mumbo jumbo and my back started to go up, but then I realized she meant it. She got up from the table and hugged me. “I’m sorry, honey. I was just trying to make conversation. It’s for the best,” she said finally. “Anyway, I liked the other one better.”
That’s when I heard a rustle behind me. When I looked, Barry had come back and was picking up his toolbox. All the emotion was back in his eyes and his jaw was clenched.
“Other guy?” he said in a voice so low only I heard it.
WHEN I FINALLY WENT TO BED, I HAD A HARD time sleeping. The combination of Samuel’s small bed, Cosmo taking up too much space and the events of the evening made it impossible for me to get comfortable and turn off my mind. Instead, I got up and tried crocheting. I took out the chart for the bookmark and a ball of number 10 thread. But instead of calming me, working with the steel hooks and fine thread only made me more tense. The work was too intricate, and I had trouble getting the hook into the tiny loops.
I wondered how Mary Beth had managed to make all those filet pieces. I gave up and reached for some comfort crochet. Working on the purple worsted scarf with its repetitive rows of single and double crochet stitches was easy and soothing. I would have relaxed completely, but a dark thought kept wandering around the back of my mind. What if the warning call was real?
CHAPTER 15
“WHAT?” I SAID, TRYING TO KEEP THE SQUEAL out of my voice. It was the next morning, and Dinah had just returned my call and told me she hadn’t left me any message, joking or otherwise.
“Is there something you’re leaving out?” Dinah said, reacting to my anxious tone.
I glanced over my shoulder. My mother had just come in the kitchen and was making a breakfast drink for herself and my father. This was the closest she got to cooking. The mixture in the blender resembled pond scum. She’d been making it every day, and each time she offered to make enough for me, too. Even though both my parents looked great and seemed to have lots of energy, I always politely passed.
She seemed intent on pulsing the blender on and off, but I knew my mother well enough to know it might be a cover for eavesdropping. She didn’t know anything about my sleuthing activities, and I thought it best to keep it that way. If she was concerned about my mental health from the state of the crochet room, I could just imagine what she’d say if she found out I was in the middle of a murder investigation and might have gotten a threatening phone call.
“Let’s get coffee,” I suggested. I didn’t want to discuss the Barry situation in front of my mother, either. The hug and sympathy had been the extent of her understanding. Later she’d said she couldn’t understand what I’d want with somebody in such a dangerous line of work. She did think he was sexy, and when I blushed, she put her hand on her hip and gave me one of her famous Liza looks.
“I know an attractive man when I see one,” she had said, laughing at my embarrassment.
A few minutes later I was at Dinah’s door. She grabbed her coat and we took the short walk to Ventura Boulevard and the heart of Tarzana. Although the sun was out, the air still had a cold sting.
“Okay, tell me everything,” Dinah said, winding a deep rose-colored scarf around her neck and pulling her gray sweater coat tighter.
I started with the threatening phone call, and her jaw dropped in response. “What made you think it was me?”
“Maybe wishful thinking,” I said as the impact of the call began to sink in.