“The skies cleared over the North Shore, and about seven-fifteen the gusts died to nothing with uncanny suddenness. Rachel was eating at the time—a plate of baked chicken, prepared by Heidi, who’d come in, cooked, and departed. She looked up from her meal to see that the palms were no longer churning, and the sea was quite placid. The silence unnerved her a little, so she put on some music: a big-band melody. It was a mistake; it reminded her of a night early in her courtship with Mitchell when ...they’d gone out dancing, and he’d chosen a very exclusive place uptown where a small band played forties tunes, and everyone danced cheek to cheek. Oh but she’d been in love that night; like a fifteen-year-old infatuated with the school quarterback. He’d plied her with champagne, and told her that he was devoted to her, and always would be. “Liar . . .” she murmured as she stared out at the sea. Sometimes, when she remembered things he’d said—sweet things that he’d betrayed, hard things that he’d known he would hurt her by saying—she wanted him right there in front of her, to point an accusing finger and say: why did you say that?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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