Ayla slumped onto the bench next to me. “Wow.”
The three of us momentarily went quiet, trying to process this strange new development, until Adam broke the silence.
“Is that why he crashed?”
I hated not being able to protect these precious babies of mine. I dreaded the moment they learned about the secret house. “Possibly.”
“I knew Dad was too good a driver,” Ayla said, “to just go and crash into a tree. Even if he was in a hurry.”
“Why would he be in a hurry?” Adam asked.
“I don’t know.” Ayla bit her thumbnail. Was this a new habit? A way to cope with stress? “To get home or whatever.”
Adam looked my way. “What else did the cops say?”
“They’re investigating. They’ll trace all of your father’s movements the night he died.”
“And who he was with?” Ayla asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded. “Yes, and who he was with.”
Adam kicked a pebble along the trail. “Do we really have to keep walking? This doesn’t qualify as a hike. Not a Dad-quality hike.”
I smiled. “He would say this trail is for suckers.”
Ayla stared at the ground. “I don’t feel like walking either.”
I came to my feet. “Well, I’m already here, and if we have an early dinner, I’m buying.”
I knew the appeal of a free meal to my college students. Ali had set a monthly food allowance for each of them when they moved out of campus housing. I’d maintained the payments since his death, although the kids usually had to remind me to send the money. Maybe Ayla would eat something if I was there to watch her.
Adam perked up. “Can we go to the Japanese steak house? Or is that too expensive?”
Ali would say it was too pricey. That something like the steak house was for special occasions. Well, he didn’t make the rules anymore.
“Japanese steak house it is.” I put my arm around my son’s slim waist, pulling him in for a side hug. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Before
“The fridge is whining again,” I complained to Ali the moment he walked into the kitchen. I was making our Saturday-morning coffee. The kids were fast asleep upstairs.
“I’ll check the fan after breakfast.” He opened the refrigerator and the grinding noise stopped.
“Should we just buy a new one?” The fridge had been rattling on and off for weeks. “Or at least call a repairman?”
Ali scoffed. “Do you know how much they charge just for the house call? That doesn’t include the parts and service once they get here.”
In fifteen years of marriage, spending money on big-ticket items was a constant push-pull. “The thing is obviously broken.”
“It makes some noise. Big deal.” He shut the fridge door. “It’s only a couple of years old and still keeps everything cold.” We’d picked out the appliance together, in keeping with Ali’s mantra that it be nice but not too expensive.
“Listen to it! It sounds like we bought a lemon.”
“It’ll be fine once I check the fan. Something is probably obstructing it.”
Irritation flared in my chest. “Why do you get to make all of the big money decisions?”
