Page 73 of Secrets (Lost and Found 2)

Tori arrived home around dinnertime. She felt light and invigorated. The creative spirit of the origami workshop was stimulating. Chatting with other people came much easier than she had thought it would. They had something in common, whether it was wanting to learn the art of paper folding or finding a respite from the busy world. She hadn’t finished the mobile yet. She still had a few more animals to work on, so she decided to go again the following month. She realized she would probably be showing a baby bump at that point. Meanwhile, she had to figure out a way to tell her husband all the things that had been festering for the past twenty years.Twenty years is a long time,she thought to herself, but then again, it goes by lickety-split. She knew she should have spoken up years ago, but she hated confrontation. She also knew that was no excuse.Put on your big-girl pants.She giggled, thinking she would need them soon enough.

Her husband wasn’t home yet from wherever he had been, so she sent him a text.

Hi. Just got home. Dinner?

She was surprised at his rapid response.

Be there soon. Need anything?

Tori looked twice at the number. It was his.How odd. He rarely, if ever, asked.

Dessert?

Anything in particular?

Surprise me.

As if she wasn’t already surprised by his interaction. She supposed it was guilt.

She took a package of chicken from the refrigerator and soaked it in salted water for ten minutes. She was a firm believer in brining the chicken before cooking. It made it more tender.

She stirred together a marinade and let the chicken steep in it for a half hour. She sliced the potatoes and placed them in a single layer in a baking dish, then placed the chicken on top. It was a new recipe she had picked up from a magazine. The juice from the chicken and marinade soaked into the potatoes as they roasted in the oven. String beans almondine would be a side dish. She never realized how easy it was to make fancy vegetables. Sliced almonds browned in butter and then tossed through the steamed beans. She felt like a gourmet chef.

Twenty minutes later, her husband arrived with an apple pie and vanilla ice cream.

“Oh my goodness. Where did you get a fresh apple pie at this hour?”

He didn’t want to tell her that he had made his own journey to Stillwell Art Center. He waited until she was on her way so she wouldn’t know he was following her. She had been acting out of character, and he thought something was amiss. It was a good half hour before he went into the center. He had checked the floor plan of the center on the Internet and confirmed the existence of an origami studio and the workshop. He waited until a half hour passed before he went into the center and kept close to the foliage. He had been on surveillance several times so he was sure he could avoid her line of sight, especially with the studio being tucked away on the side wing. Relieved she was really where she said she going to be, he spotted a pastry shop where the aroma of fresh-baked pies wafted through the air. Even though they didn’t bake on the premises, the smell of fresh pastry was undeniable. He knew he would have to come clean once they both got back to the house, but it would be a good opportunity for him to find out what was going on in his wife’s head.

“I have a confession to make.” He set the pie on the table and pulled out two chairs.

This was when Tori knew he was going to tell her about his affair. She remained calm and collected.

“OK. Go ahead.”

“You are probably going to have a conniption fit,” he said plainly.

She thought,You have no idea.I have been waiting for this moment.

She pulled her phone from her purse, set it on the table, and primly folded her hands. “OK. Go ahead.”

“I followed you today.” He looked up at her.

Tori was stunned. “You did what?” she said with some skepticism.

“I followed you to the Stillwell Center.”

Tori was totally confused. “But why?”

“Tori, honey, you have been acting differently these past couple of weeks.”

“Yes, I know I have.” She still couldn’t grasp what he was saying. “But why did you follow me?”

“I was trying to figure out what was going on with you. The way you’ve been acting lately, well, I—”

“Now, isn’t that rich?” she said, with a huge amount of sarcasm. “Why don’t we start with what is going on withyou?” She flipped through the photos on her phone and pulled one up with him and the trampy-looking woman.

“Wait. What?” He grabbed the phone and increased the picture. “How the hell . . .”

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