Keeping Score

“Why are you attacking him?” Marilyn planted her hands on her hips. “A true friend would focus instead on helping me prove to the media and the public that Rick is a good man and Jordan Hyatt is a liar.”

The telephone rang, shattering the tense silence. Marilyn glanced over her shoulder toward the hallway. “Rick suggested screening the calls to make sure they aren’t reporters.”

Emma pushed back her chair. “He has you cowering in fear inside your own home? That’s ridiculous.”

Marilyn’s eyes widened as she watched Emma hurry from her kitchen. Her honey blond curls waved behind her.

“Em!” Marilyn arrived in the family room seconds too late.

“The Evans residence.” Emma turned away from Marilyn.

Marilyn clamped her hand on Emma’s shoulder. “Hang up.” She hissed the command.

Emma shrugged out of Marilyn’s grip. “Yes, she’s right here.” She extended the cordless telephone receiver to Marilyn. “It’s your mother.”

Marilyn snatched the phone from the other woman and covered the mouthpiece. “Are you crazy?”

“He has you afraid to answer your own phone. That’s crazy.” Emma circled Marilyn on her way to the front door. “We’ll talk later. I’ll let myself out.” Emma strutted to the front door.

What had gotten into her?

Marilyn turned her attention to the telephone. She braced herself for the coming storm. “Hello, Mother.”

“Your husband’s mistress held a press conference.” Celeste was shouting.

Marilyn may never forgive Emma for answering her phone. Her friend hadn’t done her any favors. “Rick doesn’t have a mistress.”

“And she’s pregnant.” Celeste spat the words.

Marilyn pinched the bridge of her nose. “Don’t believe everything you hear, Mother. Is that the only reason you called?”

“What’s happening to you, Marilyn?” Celeste sounded genuinely concerned.

Marilyn’s shoulders sagged. She was tired and coming to the end of her patience. “Since Jordan Hyatt called her bogus press conference, my phone’s been ringing off the hook, Mother. Everyone’s eager to vilify Rick and question my judgment. But instead of tearing us apart, these attacks have made me even more determined to save my marriage.”

“What is there to save?” Celeste’s voice hardened. “Your marriage is over. You’re the only one who doesn’t know it.”

“Not the only one. Rick doesn’t know it, either.”

“That man is cheating on you.” The words and tone were mean.

She could add her mother to the list of people calling her naive. But none of them knew Warrick, so who were they to judge? “No, he’s not.”

“Is that what he told you?” Disdain lay like a carpet over Celeste’s words.

“He didn’t have to tell me. I know my husband.”

“The wife is always the last to find out.”

“He’s not a cheater.”

“All men are cheaters.” Celeste’s words flew like knives from her lips. “Your father’s a cheater.”

Marilyn’s body shivered with shock. She couldn’t have heard her mother correctly. “What?”

“Your father’s a cheater.” Celeste repeated the accusation with a slow and careful delivery.

“You’re. Lying.”