I sat frozen on the couch. Who could that be? Assuming Tom got home and discovered I wasn’t there, he’d come to the conclusion I had fled, especially when I hadn’t left a note. But he wouldn’t know I was here. He’d reach out for my whereabouts. If he had, Grace would have let me know when I texted her. But then I remembered she hadn’t replied to my text.

     Tom couldn’t be the person behind my door. He couldn’t have tracked me down here so soon. I ruled the possibility out. My mind raced to the couple across the street. Maybe one of them needed help. I had an issue with the water system earlier, but that had already been resolved. What could they need help with? They seemed too perfect to have a problem even with their farmhouse.

     Two raps sounded in the house. I stood slowly and slid my legs into the pair of slippers. Instinctively, I skittered toward the window and held back a stiff curtain, then peered out. I sighed when I saw the person. The muscles in my hands and legs relaxed. Adrenaline rush waned. No cause for alarm. It was a harmless knock, after all.

     I backed from the window, crossing the room to the foyer. I flicked on the overhead light and went for the door.

     She looked at me with a small smile. “Hi.”

     It was difficult not to smile when someone smiled at you. Even if you didn’t want to, you had no choice. I now understood why smiling was inflictive. I managed a smile and made sure it didn’t drop when I responded. “Hi.”

     “I thought I should say hello. My husband suggested we do it tomorrow when you had rested, but I insisted.”

     Her husband. I already guessed that when I saw them on the porch, but I was glad she confirmed it.

     “It’s nice of you,” I cooed.

     “I hope it’s not much of a bother. I take it you’re tired after a long ride on the road.”

     “My feet ache and my fingers feel numb.” I placed my hand on the knob. “That’s what you get from gripping the wheel so hard and sitting for long hours.” I giggled. “But other than that, I’m fit as a fiddle.”

     She chuckled and I thought it was cute. “That’s exactly what Alec said when we arrived two days ago.”

     Alec. Two days ago. The name of her husband and the time they arrived. Good. I was learning something about them little by little without so much as being inquisitive. Act nice around people, and they’ll open up to you.

     “I brought you something.”

     Before I glanced down, she was already stretching a bowl toward me. I saw through the plastic, and the aroma of cinnamon hit my nostrils so hard I began wondering where it was coming from.

     I collected it. “Thanks.”

     “Some bakeries I made in the afternoon. Cinnamon rolls, doughnuts, and pies. I thought you might want some.”

     I was allergic to cinnamon, but she didn’t need to know that. I widened my smile. “I’m sure I’m going to love them.”

     She made no attempt to leave, and I knew right away she wanted to come in. Who wouldn’t? Two days at a farmhouse in a seemingly idyllic town with no female company. I was certain she was yearning to have a chat with me.

     I opened the door wider. “Do you want to come in?”

     She nodded meekly like a little girl to her mother. “I could benefit from the company.”

     I led her into the house and closed the door. I seemed to walk faster than her, but she caught up with me and we found ourselves in the living room, where my blanket and paperback were strewn on the floor.

     Her eyes roved across the place. From the sofa to the ottoman and the fireplace, then finally landing on the portrait by the golden tulips in the vase. She took that all in without saying a word. I suddenly felt like someone was scrutinizing me. Well, not only me but my family.

     The portrait contained a photo of us. Grace, me, and my mother years ago. When she was in her final moments of life. We’d taken it in our family home in Arkansas. Mom was so ill she couldn’t stand. She sat while Grace and I crouched over her, our arms entangled and placed on her nape. The memory was easy to retrieve. It felt like yesterday when she was still with us. Tears stung my eyes, and I blinked them back.

     Mrs. Something seemed to have noticed it because she said, “Are you all right?”

     “Yes, I’m fine,” I lied.

     The truth was I wanted to give in and cry. Not because of Mom’s death. My life was pretty much in shatters now. I didn’t think it would escalate so much that I’d run away. A weekend getaway was a mild way of telling Shelby and a couple of friends. This trip was an escape from hell.

     She peered at me. Now that I was closer, I realized she was very pretty. I couldn’t guess her age. She appeared older than she looked. It must be the pixie cut. I had wanted to do one myself, but Tom wouldn’t let me. He told me he wanted my hair long and down. I didn’t want him to get wild over something as trivial as a haircut. What normally sparked our argument was sometimes petty it didn’t make sense.

     When we visited his Mom, he’d tell me to wear a dress I didn’t want to. We’d argue and he would accuse me of seducing men with the way I dressed. He said I was using Facebook to flirt with men with broad shoulders when I dealt in men’s collections as well.

     I hadn’t planned to host a guest, so I was slightly jittery. This was the hardest part of inviting strangers into your house. You struggled with how to engage them. Mrs. Something seemed like someone who just wanted to talk. I figured I could do that. I wasn’t bored. At least not yet.

     “Can I get you anything? I have lemonade.”

     “Got something stronger?”

     I arched a brow. I took it as a joke, but when I studied her expression I realized she wasn’t joking. She didn’t strike me as someone who drank, but often appearances were deceptive.

     “I’ve got Scotch.” My mind drifted to the whiskey I bought a couple of days back. I didn’t drink often, but now it was becoming a habit I had to snap out of before it grew into an addiction.

     “I’ll be right back.”

     I went down to the kitchen and retrieved the Scotch I had stashed in the cabinet. Two glasses and an ice cube tray followed. I rinsed the glasses and carried everything to the living room.

     She was staring at the array of dead animal skins and heads that hung on the wall. Just below it were arrows and bows on a wooden table. The taxidermy had scared the crap out of me when I saw it. That head of the elk creeped me out.

     “You hunt?” she said, turning around in my direction.

      I expected to see her face scrunched, but she looked the same. She took that better than I did.

     “No,” I said.

     I was tempted to add that my little sister did, and the farmhouse was hers, but I refrained. She just wanted to know if I hunt and the suitable reply would be a no. I’d be giving away too much if I continued, and she didn’t ask for that. Besides, I hardly knew her to talk about my sister.

     Grace had stayed with Grandpa at his ranch house years ago and that was where she developed a love for this sort of thing. While she could saddle and mount a horse, I couldn’t even go near it. My Grandpa had this scary aura of a caveman I’d preferred to stay with my Mom. Even on vacation, I had chosen to be with her. But Grace, however, loved Grandpa.

     She moved swiftly away from the display, tracing a finger along the mantel, and then she walked toward me.

     I dipped the cubes into our glasses and filled them up, handing hers over.

     She collected it and sipped, then sighed.

     I brought my glass to my lips, but I didn’t sip. The smell suddenly made me sick. My stomach churned. I thought I could handle it, but I couldn’t. I hadn’t drunk Scotch in a while. My drinking solely was on alcoholic wines. While I was uncomfortable, Mrs. Something seemed to be enjoying her whiskey.

     She held the glass away from her lips and said, “I’m Amy Berger.”

     I nodded. One thing I noticed was that she gave too much information about herself. I had no idea if she was aware, or she was oblivious. While I’d simply go with Elodie if I was telling my name to a stranger, she mentioned her full name. Amy Berger. The Berger probably was her husband’s name.

     “Elodie,” I said.

     She whispered my name under her pouty lips as she sipped her drink.

     “You don’t strike me as a farm girl. I bet you rented this place,” she said.

     Smart, I thought. “ I didn’t rent. It belongs to my sister.” I finally decided to mention Grace, but if our conversation focused too much on her, I’d divert.

     Amy fingered the portrait. “That’s her on the right. There you are, and the one on the couch is probably your mother.”

     I wasn’t impressed with her thinking. It was quite obvious, but still, she tried. “You’re right.” I forced myself to take a sip before Amy realized I hadn’t drunk anything. The liquid burned my throat, I wanted to puke. I gulped it down.

      I sat on the couch and placed my glass by the tray. The ice cube disintegrated gradually.

     Amy stood tall by the loveseat. She wore dark jeans and a gray blouse on top. The only jewelry that adorned her body was the aquamarine silver ring. She wore no earrings, and I intuited she’d taken them off. The floral scent that emanated from her was familiar.

     Her clothes were simple so far since I had seen her. Nothing extravagant. She doesn’t show off. Her husband, Allan...no not Allan. Alec, short for Alexander. He seemed like a well-to-do man. A lawyer or a businessman. Probably the latter. He apologized a lot for bumping into me when in actual sense, I bumped into him. He wasn’t gruff. Most city men would yell at me and tell me to watch my steps. But he didn’t. He helped me instead. Stayed even till my items were rang up.

     A gentleman and a dedicated husband. He was always around his wife. But that could also mean something else. Most of the time, what was shown outside was different from the inside. The perfect marriage could also be a perfect lie. I hadn’t detected signs of tension in their marriage, which piqued my interest.

     I didn’t know why I wanted to spot a flaw in them. Possibly because my marriage was flawed. It was easy to think everyone was like you in your darkest moment. At least knowing you had company changed so much.
    
     Amy on the other hand was difficult to read. Her face was devoid of any emotion. It was hard to tell if she was happy they took this vacation. The more challenge I had in reading her, the more I became intrigued.

    I shifted our conversation to a more personal matter. I was intruding on their life, but she had already said a lot to me. “How long have you been married?”

     She jutted her head toward my side and smiled. “Five months. Newlyweds.”

     I picked up small details, like her smile when I mentioned the topic. She’s happy. Of course, she would be. Every newlyweds were happy until they got to know each other very well. Not the version they knew when they dated.

     Finally, she sat on the loveseat and clasped her hands around the glass. “Are you married?” she asked.

     I bristled. I wasn’t surprised she asked. I knew she would. I took off Tom’s ring when I went into the bathroom. I didn’t want to lose it yet and give Tom a solid reason when he sooner or later accused me I had been planning to escape. This getaway wasn’t planned, but Tom wouldn’t believe me. My actions recently had been spontaneous. Nothing was in order.

     “Yes,” I said.

     She nodded and sipped. “How long?”

     I didn’t want to give specifics. “Very long.”

     She didn’t frown. She surely realized I didn’t want to give too much about myself like she was.

     She moistened her lips and set the glass on the table. “When I saw you at the gas station, I didn’t think you were headed down here.”

     I forced another drink down my throat. “Me neither.”

     “Why did you come here? A getaway from home?” she asked.

     I thought carefully of my answer. She knew I was married for a very long time. Logically, she’d expect a man around me. If I tripped, this perfect stranger would know I was running from somebody. “More of a getaway. My husband’s on a business trip. The house is boring as hell. I thought I should change environment.”

     She laughed. “Can relate. When Alec is away, I’m very much alone.”

     She didn’t mention work. Housewife? Possibly.

     She gave me a once-over. Her brown eyes finally landed on my dress. “That costs quite a lot these days.”

     I assumed she was talking about my bracelet until she added, “I like the stripes.”

     She wasn’t wrong. I ordered it from outside the States, along with several dresses. It cost less there, but around here, like she said. If she knew my dress was expensive, then she was definitely into fashion.

     “I owe a boutique,” I said, my voice filled with pride. It was the only thing that brought me joy nowadays.

      “I guessed that much.”

      My face lit up. “Really?”

     “Yes. I love your outfits and composure. You came here all alone,” she blurted. “I wished I could be more like...” Her voice trembled and trailed off. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

     Could be more like what? Me? Amy was definitely keeping secrets, and I didn’t think she’d tell her secrets to a stranger on the first meeting.

     She loves my outfits and composure. I almost scoffed. If she only knew they were a veneer to cover up the broken woman on the run from her husband.

     “It’s fine,” I said.

      She took out her phone and glanced at the screen. Her face went pale. “Oh my,” she mumbled. “It’s nine. I’ve got to go.”

     I didn’t realize we’d talked for that long. I shouldn’t keep her away any further. I rose, and the paperback fell to her side.

     She bent down and picked it up, studying the book. “You read?” she said, stretching it toward me.

     “Not all the time.” I collected the book and placed it on the couch.

     “It was nice chatting with you, Elodie. Maybe you should join Alec and me tomorrow for dinner,” she said, her face beaming.

     That was unexpected. I didn’t know my schedule tomorrow. If I had any at all. I was looking forward to hanging out with James, but I was sure he’d be busy. After much consideration, I said, “All right.”

     “Great! Tomorrow at six.”

      “Got it. Let me see you to the door.” I followed behind her to my front porch. A breeze blew across our direction, flicking my hair. When I looked up, Alec stood on the porch. His face was contorted, I wondered if he was upset. I hoped it wasn’t because I took his wife away for a while.

     “I’ll see you tomorrow, Elodie. Bye.”

      We waved and I watched her walk away. I had parked my car in the garage earlier. There wasn’t much to do outside. I went back into the house and locked the door.

     Clara had fallen asleep on the kitchen floor. I carried her into the bedroom, placing her on her bed. I changed into my nightgown and crossed the wardrobe to the window. The Bergers’ house came into view. The porch was pitch-black now. They were probably preparing to bed.

     As I stood looking at the house, a hand yanked the lace curtains from the window upstairs. Amy appeared, now wearing a red nightgown. She stared right at me, her eyes sunken. Then she closed the curtain, and I watched a silhouetted Amy vanish into the room till the lights went off.

     Weird. She didn’t even smile at me when she just invited me over to her house. My mind raced to something she’d said back in the living room.

     You came here all alone.

     Why would she say that when I had explicitly told her Tom was on a trip? Who did she expect me to come with?

     Amy was a woman with secrets, and I was curious to know what secrets could a newlywed like her have.