“It didn’t make ‘sense’ for you to stay at the US attorney’s office?” Zach pressed. “What does that mean?”
There was that directness I’d always liked.
“We’ve run into some unexpected financial challenges. It’s a long, complicated story. Anyway, working at the US attorney’s office isn’t exactly the best way to earn extra cash.”
“Marriage,” Zach said, then shook his head ruefully.
“It’s obviously not the end of the world,” I said. “I’m working at one of the best law firms in the country, not a salt mine.”
Zach’s one eye looked sad. “Still,” he said. “I know how much that job meant to you. I’m sorry.”
A burn blazed up my throat. I looked away.
“That’s the hardest part about marriage, isn’t it?” Zach went on. “Somebody else’s problems become your own. It doesn’t always feel fair.”
“It doesn’t,” I said. Zach saying the exact right thing was nicer than I wanted it to be.
“So your husband. Richard, is it?”
“Richard?” I felt a guilty pang when I remembered where Zach was getting that name. “No, not Richard. His name is Sam.”
“I’m guessing he’s not a lawyer …”
“A writer.”
Zach searched my eyes for a second.
“A writer sounds … very, um, creative.” Zach smiled. “I’m glad you’re happy. I’ve thought about you over the years, wondered how you were. It’s good to see it all worked out.”
It didn’t. None of it worked out.
I looked down at the table in silence. We needed to get back to the point.
“Where is your son?”
“He’s at sleepaway camp in California with his best friend.” Zach smiled weakly. “Amanda didn’t want him to go, but we moved here in the middle of the school year, and he missed his friends. Amanda was good that way. She always made the choices that were best for Case, even when they were hard on her. I can’t tell Case on the phone about what’s happened—that would just be so … But he needs to know about Amanda.”
“What about your mom?”
He looked confused for a moment. “Oh, she passed away.”
“I’m sorry. Maybe the parents of Case’s friend should tell him, then?” I suggested. “Do you think they’d go get him from the camp?”
“Yeah, maybe,” Zach said quietly. “To be honest, I don’t really know them. The friend’s name is Billy, I think.”
“I could call and ask the camp,” I offered. “I’m sure they’d know how to reach Billy’s family.”
“That would be great, thanks,” Zach said. “But I don’t even know the camp’s name. Amanda handled all that.” He paused. “That probably makes me sound like an asshole, doesn’t it? I bet you aren’t rushing home to put a hot meal on the table every night for Richard.”
I laughed a little too loud.
“No, but every marriage is different,” I said, and my judgments aside—because I was judging it—it didn’t make Zach a bad person if he had a traditional marriage, provided that’s what his wife also wanted. “Is the information on the camp at your house somewhere?”
“I’m sure it is. There’s a small desk in the living room where Amanda kept her papers. All the forms and information for the camp should be in there.”
“Does somebody in the neighborhood have a key to the house?” I asked. “That would be much faster than me trying to track down yours in inventory here.”
“There should be one under the planter out front,” he said. “Amanda kept it there for Case, for emergencies.”
