Devil in the Waters, Book 8, Chapter 3

Something was up, she was sure of it. If she checked her phone at the table though, her father would kill her.

Pop, at the head of the table, looked more pleased than she could remember him in a long time. Both his daughters were at the dinner table together with him and it had been a long time since that happened. He wore a thin wide smile that really did cheer her heart; tonight he’d worn a pressed button-down collar shirt and a light vest. He looked good. He looked happy. It wasn’t just the brandy that Josh and Pop kept drinking, she also recognized it was her new success and the trip to Grand Cayman she’d earned herself as a treat, after only a month at her new job.

Across from her, Eileen, her sister, wasn’t so pleased. Now the shoe was on the other foot.

Eileen and her husband, both dentists, opened their new practice two years ago and it was all she used to hear about when she visited Pop. To the point she looked for ways to avoid dinner dates and family functions. It wasn’t so terrible now. And there was a small but sick pleasure she took from Pop’s boasting to Eileen about Kimmy’s success. It wasn’t envy on Eileen’s face—Eileen and Robert were doing just fine out in Calgary, thank you very much—it was discontent. For the first time in a long time Eileen wasn’t so far ahead in first place, and her sister didn’t like being challenged.

Despite the pervasive woolly annoyance that tickled the back of her neck—fucking Devlin—and made her squirm with her own measure of grievance, she did enjoy watching Eileen deal with her older sister’s new job. Eileen wasn’t her usual effusive self, fawning over Pop and basking in his attention.

Susan asked Kimmy, “How was the flight? I’ve never been on a private plane before.”

It made Kimmy wonder if Susan was ingratiating herself, like maybe she could see that Eileen wasn’t the center of attention for once and maybe Susan would help Kimmy out—Kimmy was the closest daughter and most frequent visitor comparatively to the man who was her boyfriend (of sorts). Not that she didn’t appreciate it.

Eileen said, “It wasn’t private, it was shared.”

Kimmy agreed. “It’s not my boss’s plane.”

“Still,” Susan said, a dumpling held in the points of her chopsticks, “was it luxurious?”

Josh set his brandy down, saying, “It was awesome—way better than Air Canada.”

Pop beamed, truly enjoying that she’d been gifted a weekend vacation to the Caribbean and flew in a private plane.

“It was a relief not to have the usual hassles,” Kimmy said.

Eileen said, “I can’t believe you’re working for a guy from high school.”

Eileen hadn’t really known Devlin. Eileen was two grades below her and had been as bookish and detached from high school culture as Kimmy had been. If Eileen had known how crazy it was Kimmy was working for thee Devlin-fucking-Stone, she would be wielding that over Kimmy’s head like a claymore. The best her uninformed sister could come up with was that Kimmy was employed by a peer. And the implication, of course, that were Devlin not a peer, Kimmy wouldn’t have such great-paying job that came with wonderful perks.

Josh must have seen the intended disparagement, saying, “They weren’t exactly friends in high school, that’s for sure.”

Eileen lifted her gaze to Josh, looking to soak up any info that might lessen the burden of Kimmy’s recent boon. Like she could get her crowbar in a crack and test for weakness, Eileen said, “I like the sound of this guy. Is he a millionaire?”

Josh’s good humor retreated.

Kimmy said, “I’m sure he is—”

Josh said, “It’s his dad’s company. Don’t you remember this guy? He was like Dalton’s biggest entitled jerk.”

“Not really,” Eileen said, and Kimmy could see the fire in Josh’s eyes. If Eileen had more questions about this interesting man of wealth and power Josh was ready to dissuade her sister about how the guy deserved any measure of respect.

And, no, Devlin deserved little respect from Josh.

The guy was fucking Josh’s wife and he didn’t know it. But that was on her.

Maybe it was all over, anyway.

No Devlin at all this week and she got the message loud and clear. Or at least she thought she did. She’d set a trap and it had worked. Maybe.

Amy had said on the phone: You’ve got the bucks now. . . . How would Amy know what her salary was? Did it make sense that Amy could have appropriately speculated, or had Devlin told her how much he was paying her? . . .

Monday, Devlin didn’t show before lunch and she didn’t text him. Not until one o’clock. Devlin texted back he can’t make it. Okay, she’d thought. He didn’t come in Tuesday either, he texted her saying he had too much to do out in Kingston and he’d come on Wednesday. Didn’t come on Wednesday. Or Thursday, or today.

Had Amy passed Devlin a message?

Did Devlin hear from Amy how he wasn’t really lighting up Kimmy’s pinball machine? It wasn’t likely he was offended. He knew it firsthand to be untrue. But had he recognized that Kimmy had told Amy a lie in order to detect the flow of information around here? That could be likely.

Though she would have expected Devlin to play along rather than shy away and confirm her suspicions.

What if he had got his fill? What if he’d got all he wanted to sexually achieve with his fancy new long-legged lawyer.

Wouldn’t that be good news?

Wouldn’t it be good news that the sex between them would end, and she could get back to the process of living her life with her husband and making money so they could start their family?

If she was right, there was no good news, only bad news.

It could mean Devlin is ghosting her because Amy and Devlin were up to something, messing with her.

Where would that leave her? Would it put her job in jeopardy? Would it put her marriage in jeopardy?

The regret for machinating against Amy was surprising. It proved two undeniable things. One, she wanted the job with Devlin. Two, more surprisingly, she wanted more sex with Devlin.

But if she was being set up, how dangerous was this game?

She couldn’t stop it now. If Devlin and Amy were up to something, she would have to finish it, leave it in a way that they’d be afraid to touch her.

And a big part of that would be breaking Josh. Breaking him with the very thing he craved.

***

While Josh helped Susan get the dessert ready and her Pop went to the bathroom, Eileen went outside to smoke a cigarette and Kimmy joined her on the balcony. It was almost eight o’clock and the sun was descending, the night colors deepening and the shadows in the valley below her Pop’s condo were growing long and dark.

Eileen plopped her cigarette pack on the balcony ledge, one unlit between her fingers already, lighter held loosely in her hand. She was looking really young and healthy, though still stern and judgmental, wearing her hair back and a touch of makeup. She was tall and lean, but not as tall as Kimmy.

Eileen watched her approach and her face took a more sympathetic ease. She said, “I know I wrote and I called, but I was really sorry for you.”

She nodded. the whole pregnancy thing seemed ages ago, though it’d been only this spring. Her summer spent as a basket-maker with an Etsy shop seemed like a book she read about someone else.

Eileen held out her arms, palms out, looking for a rare embrace. kimmy took it, stepping close to her sister so the two of them could press their meager chests together and rub shoulder and backs. It was brief, but she did appreciate her sister’s gesture.

When they parted, Eileen leaned on the ledge and lit her cigarette.

Kimmy said, “Where are you staying?”

“The usual. Here in town, the Marriott.”

“Are you going to have time to come out and see us?”

“I have to see Robert’s parent’s lawyer, I have to go and visit his sister. I’m glad you could come out tonight. It’s good to see you.”

While they chatted about how Pop was doing and why he wouldn’t admit that his friend Susan Araki was more than just a friend and why doesn’t he present her like they’re a couple before she is offended and moves on—Do you know how much cooking she does for him?—her mind couldn’t get off the topic of Devlin’s absence and what it might mean.

It came clearer to her in her sister’s presence. Nothing made her more competitive—or made her feel more unfulfilled—than her sister’s success. Devlin offered her the one thing she didn’t know she desired, an irresistible temptation. Had Amy something to do with that? Amy would know—or at least think she knew—some of Kimmy’s deepest unspoken secrets.

She said to Eileen, “How do you do it all?”

“All what?”

“You’re busy. Dentist, business owner . . . What do you have time for?”

“What else is there?”

“Robert.”

“Of course,” Eileen said, shaking her head and narrowing her eyes, uncomprehending.

“And it’s still, I don’t know . . . good?”

Eileen thought about it, straightening, elbow on the ledge, wisps of smoke dancing off her cigarette. “Things aren’t good with Josh?”

She shook her head now, also straightening, not wanting her sister to misunderstand. “Not at all. Things are great with Josh. I meant . . . I wondered how it was for you, if you were happy that way.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Of course you are,” she said, sighing, joining her sister in leaning on the ledge. She looked over and straight down to the grass and the patios below; a sandy trail wound along beside a rivulet and there were people down there, strolling together. What she wanted to know was hard to iterate.

Eileen said, “Is something going on with you and Josh? Are things all right after . . .”

Kimmy nodded without looking Eileen’s way. “It’s nothing like that, it’s . . . Do you ever feel like time is passing now? Like significant time, time we won’t get back?”

“No one gets any time back.”

“Not time. Experience.”

Now Eileen got it. At least clearer than she had before, her lips bowing as she nodded and ashed her cigarette.

“Forget I said anything,” Kimmy said.

They watched together out over the deepening evening and the orangey glow.

After Eileen tapped the cigarette for the tenth time without ever having taken a drag on it, Kimmy said, “What are you doing?”

Eileen held the cigarette up near the side of her face, one arm folded. “Standing out here with you.”

She nudged her chin at the cigarette. “Why aren’t you smoking that?”

Eileen offered it her way. “Do you want it?”

“I don’t smoke. You shouldn’t either.”

“I quit,” Eileen said, eyes aside, mouth scrunched to one side.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you . . .”

Eileen smiled a moment, then looked through the windows to see where everyone was. Josh was moving around at the table, clearing some of the dinner dishes to make room for whatever baking Susan had prepared.

Eileen said, “Don’t tell Pop, but . . .”

“But what? You’re not smok— Oh, you’re not saying . . .”

“I didn’t want to mention it to Pop, it’s so early but, yeah, I’m pregnant.” Eileen let her hand brush over her stomach and then put it in the pocket of her skirt. The other hand tapped out the burned-down cigarette on the ledge then put it in the lidded pot she’d been using since she got here.

There was a drop-away feeling, a weird nothing-under-her-feet see-saw feeling that made her unsteady—the height, the balcony, the world shifting; she got a queasy sense of sudden vertigo. Happiness popped up but envy squeezed it. Hard enough like it wanted to squeeze out its life.

“You okay?” Eileen said.

What, because I lost my pregnancy, now you’ll have Pop’s first grand baby?

“I’m fine,” she said, much effort heaved into pushing out a convincing smile. “Can I hug you, or will that give it away?”

“You can hug me,” Eileen said.

They came together again and gave each other their awkward embrace. There was honest-to-goodness feelings of love—she was going to be a real Auntie!—but there was a greenish rise of brack-water jealousy that felt awful, yet she didn’t hate. it was the prompt of challenge, the feeling she could battle again. It had been a long time since she’d felt this aggressive streak; a long time since she felt so driven and alive.

***

In the passenger seat of the Qashqai on their way home, Josh said, “It was good seeing Eileen, huh? Wish it was more than once a year. Maybe in the winter we can get out to Calgary and visit them. What do you think?”

“She’s pregnant.”

Josh’s head whipped her way; he smiled wide. “She is? Really? She never said a thing.”

“She told me. She’s trying to keep it from Pop for now. It’s early.”

“That’s smart,” Josh agreed.

Yes, because of me. Because I hurt Pop by losing a baby before it was born and my sister made a point of letting me know she now had to protect our father’s feelings from yet another of my screwups.

“She’ll be fine.”

“I bet. I wonder if it’s going to be a boy or a girl.”

“I don’t think I really want to talk about it right now,” she said.

Josh faced her while she drove and she felt bad for snapping. She put a hand on his thigh.

One hand on the steering wheel, she settled into the seat while Josh closed his eyes. It was an hour and a half from home. Her other hand moved into her lap. Then swept higher, rested on the flat of her own stomach. Today her period was eight days late.