Alice waited several moments, then said, “I believe you took something Jeff said in passing and blew it out of proportion.”
“I’d like to think so. Truly I would. But I have such a strong gut feeling that something isn’t right.”
“May I offer a couple of explanations for why you feel that way?”
“Please.”
“You’ve been through an ordeal that packed a wallop, emotionally as well as physically. You suffered a brain injury, a mild one, but a brain injury nonetheless. You slept with a stranger. In terms of Emory Charbonneau’s comfort zone, that’s outside the stratosphere. Naturally, you’re feeling a bit fragile, insecure, even frightened.”
“I hear what you’re saying, Alice. But when have you known me to let my imagination run wild, or to go all aflutter in a crisis situation?”
“Never. But this was no ordinary crisis. This was your crisis.”
She sighed. “All right, that’s one explanation. You said you had a couple.”
“Guilt, perhaps?”
Emory thought about it. “I’m finding fault with Jeff to assuage my own guilt for sleeping with another man?”
“I’m no psychiatrist, but that kind of transference seems logical, doesn’t it?”
“I suppose.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
She wasn’t. She had done the exact opposite by resolving not to blame Jeff for her adultery. “It’s not entirely unthinkable that Jeff was somehow involved. The detectives suspected him.”
“He was cleared.”
Yes, Emory thought, but only because I showed up alive.
Alice was saying, “Jeff isn’t the warmest individual, and, in fact, he can be a self-centered son of a bitch. But during one of our conversations while you were still missing, he told me he wanted to be an ideal husband to you, the kind that you deserve.” She paused, then added in a heartfelt whisper, “I swear to you, he couldn’t have harmed you.”
Panic attacks were sparked by traumatic events. Just as often they were brought on by imagined or manufactured terrors. Clearly Alice believed her suspicions were groundless. And perhaps they were. “I apologize for waking you up.”
“You know I’m here for you,” Alice said. “But I need to beg off. I have two scheduled C-sections tomorrow.”
Emory apologized for keeping her on the phone for so long.
Alice was still reluctant to hang up. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for listening.”
“We’ll talk again tomorrow. Get some rest. Things will look better in the morning.”
But in the morning, they didn’t.
She was dressed and waiting when Jeff arrived. He pushed through the door and exclaimed, “You look gorgeous!”
She forced herself to smile. “Hardly, but I made a few improvements.”
“That’s always been one of my favorite outfits.”
“It’s jeans and a sweater.”
“It’s you in jeans and a sweater.” He bent down and brushed his mouth across hers. “How did you sleep?”
She didn’t tell him about her panic attack or her conversation with Alice. But after it, while lying sleepless and agitated, she had made up her mind not to live in doubt and fear. She refused to harbor doubts about the man to whom she was married. She would ask him straight out how he knew about her sunglasses. She hoped he would have a logical explanation that would eliminate her misgivings and make her feel ridiculous for entertaining them even for an instant.