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Tugging a laundry basket from behind the door, she plops it down on the counter. It’s filled to the brim with bread rolls. I pick one up and squeeze. Brittle and dry, it crumbles, flaking into pieces.
“What’s this?”
Anne’s look turns sympathetic. “Damian, I’m sorry, but I thought you needed to know. I found this on the bottom of Lina’s closet. She really is crazy. I mean, who collects bread rolls? I’m worried about her state of mind. This isn’t right.”
I dust my hands. “What were you doing in Lina’s closet?”
“She said I could borrow a dress.”
On purpose, I let my gaze drop to her hips. She turns a little red. She’ll never fit those hips in Lina’s dresses.
Rubbing a finger over my mouth, I watch her intently, until she starts to squirm. “Do you know how I feel about tattletales?”
“I had to tell you,” she gushes. “Don’t you know what people say?”
“What do people say?”
“You married a crazy woman. She’s weird. She humiliated you with a funeral dress at your wedding.”
“People are fast to judge. Who’s to say she’s not eccentric?”
“That dress wasn’t eccentric, and you know it. Everyone knows it. It was a statement. Tony says she didn’t want an engagement ring, that she practically threw a four-carat diamond back in your face. Her arms are cut up. She can’t close a door, never mind locking it. She builds homes for bats. She got my grandfather fired over those damn bats. Everyone says she prefers vampires to people. Then there’s the newspaper articles, and that photo of her almost throwing herself under a bus.”
She pauses to take a breath.
I cross my arms. “Anything else?”
Some of her enthusiasm evaporates. She deflates. “You know better than me.”
“Damn right.”
“This is terrible. I feel awful for you.”
“You’re right. It’s terrible.”
“What are you going to do?”
“What do you suggest?”
Pulling on my arms, she unfolds them and takes my hand between both of hers. “I understand you need her money for your mine. I’m not a fool. Everyone knows why you married her. This is going to sound terrible, but you can have the money without having to put up with her.”
My insides tighten. Anger coils through my veins. “What are you proposing?”
“There are places you can send crazy people.”
I narrow my eyes. “Institutions.”
She nods enthusiastically. “Yes. To get better.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re suggesting I have her locked up.”
“I prefer to see it as being cared for by people who can help her. You’ll still manage her money. You’ll still have your mine.”
I pull my hand free. “That sounds rather selfish.”
“You have to start thinking about yourself, about your image, and how you want the world to see you. Your success is growing, day by day. Do you want your international liaisons to know you as that guy who married the crazy woman, or the successful, respected businessman you are?”
“Wow, Anne. You really are a piece of work.”
Her demeanor slips. “What do you mean?”
“You’re vicious, self-serving, and cruel. The judgment you so persuasively chose for Lina will be yours. Pack your bags. I want you out by tomorrow morning. Be glad I’m not having you locked up.” Not able to look at her for a minute longer, I grab the basket of bread and walk to the door.
“Wait.” She runs after me. “Everything I said is true. I’m doing this for you.”
“Don’t say goodbye before you go.”
“Where are you going?” she cries.
To interrogate my wife.
My footsteps fall hard down the hall. I’m mad with Lina for setting me up with Anne, livid with Anne, and most of all, if I’m honest, worried about my wife.
Lina is sitting up in bed, tense. Her eyes grow big when she spots the basket in my arms.
I dump it on the bed. “Explain.”
She looks between the bread and me. “They’re bread rolls.”
“I know the what. I want to know the why.”
“In case we run out of bread.”
“Fuck, Lina.” Frustrated, I rest my hands on my hips. “That’s lame. You can do better than that.”
Biting her lip, she looks toward the window.
“What happened in Willowbrook, Lina?”
She shakes her head.
I walk around the bed, into her line of vision. “I went to Willowbrook.”
Her eyes turn bigger still. “Why?”
“I wanted to know what happened to you.”
She only looks at me, wide-eyed and trapped.
Sitting down on the bed, I take her hand. “Tell me what they did to you.”
Her voice is even, but her hand trembles in mine. “Nothing I’d like to repeat.”
“I need to know.”
Her eyes turn out of focus. She’s tuning me out, hiding from the past.
“Look at me,” I urge gently. “I’m going to shut down that hellhole. I need to know what they did to you.”
Her expression is hopeful, uncertain.
“I’m going to make them pay, each and every one of them.” Bringing her hand to my mouth, I rub her fingers over my lips. “I swear it to you.”
