Richard nodded. “It’s, um, impossible to sleep.” He motioned in a circle next to his head with his handcuffed hands. “The noise at night. People jabbering on, arguing, snoring. It’s also freezing in here.”
Gretchen thought of the way she’d felt sitting in the policestation that first night. She’d have frozen to death before she abandoned Richard. She squeezed her hands together so tightly they began to throb.
“I’ll mail earplugs and a sleep mask,” Gretchen said robotically. Already, this was harder than she thought. “And maybe some warmer socks?”
Richard smiled at her, the fine lines in his face crinkling. “That would be great. Except probably you can skip the eye mask. That’s not going to play well with the other guys in here.” He leaned across the table. “Are the kids holding up, all things considered? It would be okay if you erred on the bright side. I could use some good news.”
“Oh, could you?” Gretchen felt like a coiled spring.
Richard frowned, visibly befuddled.Fuckingbefuddled—it was a better word than she’d realized. Perfect for this absolutely ridiculous situation.
“What’s wrong, Gretchen?” Richard asked. “I mean apart from me being in here. You seem…angry.”
“Who is Shawna—some counselor, Deborah said? Why were you seeing her? Were you having problems at work?”
“No.” Richard looked offended. “Iaskedto see her. She’s a therapist, and I felt…like I needed someone to talk to.”
Gretchen felt even more irritated. “Did it help?”
“No, she was too…corporate.”
They were quiet for a moment.
“The kids are fine,” Gretchen said finally, attempting to swallow over the burning in her throat. “Becks is still home, but he’s worked it out with his professors, and Elizabeth is going to hang around for a bit, which has been—nice, actually.” And it was, now that Gretchen thought about it. “Maybe a little time away from that place will be a good thing for her.”
Richard looked encouraged. “Oh, wow,” he said. “If something good could come out of this…”
Gretchen pressed her lips closed for a moment. “Sure.”
“I really am so glad you’re here,” Richard went on, rubbinghis palms up and down his pants. “I miss you so much, Gretchen. That’s been the hardest part of being in here.”
She thought of the texts he’d sent while lying in their bed. She thought of the watch. She thought of that Crosby Street Hotel receipt crunched in her fist. All of it, a trail of gasoline leading to a deep reservoir inside her. She breathed in through her nose, then out in a long stream through her mouth. But it was no use.
And then, just like that:Boom.
“That’s the hardest thing about being atRikers Island?” Her voice was trembling with fury. “Not the threat of violence, or the loss of freedom, or the inedible food, or the lack of sleep, or the fear of going to prison for the rest of your life—it’s being separated from little ol’ me?”
Richard’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on, baby?”
He hadn’t called Gretchen that since they were young and wildly in love. She could almost feel his hands on her shoulders, trying to steer her in the direction he wanted.
“Iknow,Richard.”
“You know what?” he asked, his own irritation starting to poke through. He wasn’t used to his charm offensive failing.
“All of it. You and Frankie. The texting. Ludlow Coffee Supply, Las Nacionales. You needed an address to send flowers? The watch.” He glanced down at her wrist. “It’s gone. I sold it. Not that I would have worn it here.”
“You sold it?” He sounded appalled.
“I needed cash. It’s a long story—you know all about those, right?” She glared at him. “You didn’t buy the watch for me anyway, Ri—”
“What are you talking about?” he demanded angrily.
“Don’t.” Gretchen calmly raised a finger. “Please have enough respect for me after thirty-four years of marriage not to lie to my face. Think to yourself: ‘She’s probably not pulling all these details out of thin air. I mean, that would be quite remarkable.’ ” She came up for air, let him twist in the silence. “The salesman at Cartier remembered you, Richard. He asked me about myart.Not to mention that Beckssawyou two together at Ludlow Coffee Supply.”
“Becks? I don’t—” But then Richard’s eyes flickered shut. He shook his head. His shoulders slumped with resignation. “We were friends, Gretchen. That’s all.” But it was halfhearted, at best.
“Okay. The watch, then—explain that to me. No one buys that kind of gift for a friend, Richard. And learning about it in the store from thesalesmanwas like getting stabbed in the face. So thank you for that.”
