Liz Fenton - The Good Widow

ALSO BY LIZ FENTON & LISA STEINKE

Your Perfect Life

The Status of All Things

The Year We Turned Forty

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Text copyright 2017 by Liz Fenton & Lisa Steinke

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle

www.apub.com

Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

ISBN-13: 9781503943445

ISBN-10: 1503943445

Cover design by Rachel Adam

To our fathers, for teaching us how to be strong.

CONTENTS

She can kill with a smile

She can wound with her eyes

She can ruin your faith with her casual lies

And she only reveals what she wants you to see

She hides like a child

But shes always a woman to me

Billy Joel

CHAPTER ONE

BEFORE

His fingers slithered like a snake to find hers. She opened her palm and accepted them. There was something about the commanding way he reached for her. It felt like a statement. You are mine.

The reality was less clear. Because she was and she wasnt. And it was in this contradiction where their relationship lived, where it took its deep sighs and shallow breaths, where the highs felt like the top of the most beautiful mountain. Breathtaking. Exhilarating. Peaceful. And the lows felt like the La Brea Tar Pits she had visited as a child. Trapped. Anxious. Uncertain.

She ran her free hand through her hair, sticky from the wind that whipped through the rented Jeep after theyd decided to take the top down to feel the sun, the air, maybe even the spray of the ocean. They were both a bit quiet; it had been a long drive with so many turns, both on the road and in their relationship, so she leaned back and let the silence between them comfort her. She needed to confess something to him. And as long as the wind continued to swirl around them, as long as they kept winding their way slowly down the tortuous and twisty back side of the road to Hana, she could hold it on the tip of her tongue, where it had been resting for the last twenty-four hours. She squeezed his hand to check in, and her heart fluttered when he echoed it and made eye contact for a moment before looking back to the treacherous road.

Theres something I need to tell you. She had attempted to force the words out several times since shed found out. As they lay in bed, wound tightly together, their faces shamelessly close. Hed shared his own secrets, their lips brushing as he spoke. But when it had been her turn, the words would not come. She had not been ready for him to know. To face what might happen after.

The lush rain forest opened up and presented the ocean, the view so magnificent that she gasped slightly. He squeezed her hand, then pointed down below the cliffs they were navigating, the creases around his eyes deepening as he smiled, his hand leaving hers again only to downshift as they reached the top of a steep incline. She often wondered why he had chosen her. Why hed risked so much to be with an average-looking woman, the owner of a nose that was a little too small for her face, lips that were just slightly too thin. A girl who worked hard but still hadnt found a career.

But in moments like these, this mans love, or lust, or even his affection she was never quite sure what to call itbuoyed her. When he looked at her just like that, she knew that shed do anything he asked. She might have even jumped off that bridge with him, as long as hed held her hand on the way down. Granted, these thoughts of devotion were often fleeting. She questioned him almost as much as she revered him. But right then, in the Jeep hugging the side of this mountain, the unpaved road so riddled with potholes that she was getting carsick, she felt like they could overcome anything together. That the world could be theirs.

Thats probably why she took off her seat belt. And decided to lean in close and breathe her secret into his ear. She could have simply called out her confession over the wind, but she needed to deliver the news gently. The rest of their lives together depended on it.

CHAPTER TWO

JACKSAFTER

Im FaceTiming with Beth for the second time today when the police show up. I swing the door open, half listening to one of my sisters long-winded, albeit hilarious, stories about some moms at her childrens elementary school who want to petition the school board to allow them to manage their kids school projects. They come out so much better when were involved, one of them had said without a trace of irony in her voice.

Are you Mrs. Morales? Wife of James Morales?

I nod, dropping the phone to my side, my sister still speaking loudly as her view changes from my mud-brown hair and matching eyes to the dark denim of my jeans. I take in the static sound coming from the walkie-talkie on the female cops slender hip, the handle of a gun protruding from the holster of her stout partner with a thick mustache, their squad car in the background.

She rattles off their names, which I immediately forget, then points to the olive-green front door, the only thing distinguishing our modest tract home from the others on the block. May we come inside and speak with you?

Why? Is something wrong? Is James okay? I ask as I study the knotted skin between the female officers deep-set eyes, my mind clicking the pieces together.

Mrs. Morales, may we come in, please? she repeats, and I wonder, in a flash of annoyance as I stare at her partners thick black hair, if theyd planned this. That shed talk to me? Deliver the bad news I sensed was comingwoman to woman? She steps closer, and I jerk my body back, the heel of my shoe catching on the doormat. I lose my balance and grab onto her arm to steady myself. She offers me a sad smile, but still, I dont invite them inside. I want a few more seconds of not knowing.

Jacks? Beth says my nickname, and I silently turn the phone around so she can see the cops.

Mrs. Morales? The officer looks down, and I realize Im still gripping the heavy fabric of her uniform, my knuckles bright white against the blue polyester. She puts her hand over mine, her skin cool and smooth. She guides me through the doorway, her partner easing the front door shut behind us. The three of us silently lower ourselves onto the red chenille couch. Ironically, it was purchased on one of my shopping binges when I tried to fill what my therapist had defined as the hole created by Jamess perpetual absences while traveling for work. I have a closet full of shoes, a bathroom filled with cosmetics, and a kitchen stacked with gadgets, all bought in the same mindset. Beth would come over to survey my latest haul, then give me one of her looks.

I stare at my sister on the screen of my phone resting in my palm, and together we hear the news that will seem surreal for weeks, like a bad dream Im fighting to wake up from. May twenty-first. Maui. A car crash. The road to Hana. Cliffs. Lava rocks. A fire. His wallet with ID found several hundred yards from the car. Yes, theyd need his dental records to be absolutely sure, but they felt confident it had been himconfident enough to show up on my doorstep and tilt my world on its axis.