Margery’s advice echoed in Katherine’s head as she stood looking for Stu’s flight on the Logan Airport arrivals board with a worried frown on her face. She still didn’t know what exactly to say to her husband. Her saucy friend had issued the tell-all edict but hadn’t provided delivery instructions.
Katherine decided that she would wait to disclose until she and Stu got home; that was an easy call. She could start by making him feel guilty for not telling her about Molson. That would put him in a more forgiving mood. Then she could segue into her own conduct. Taking a one-hundred-thousand-dollar advance and house shopping without him would be the starter. Her part in the revamped office charade was worse, and that bitch Audra would probably tell Stu that his wife had been there.
The Dugan thing was a bit stickier. She’d been testing speeches in her head all morning, and she still hadn’t found just the right words to explain that particular client interaction.
Even if she found the right words to earn forgiveness, there was still a serious problem with telling the truth: Stu would end their representation of Dugan. No doubt. Her efforts would go for naught. Her favor would go unrewarded. She couldn’t let that happen. But Margery had warned her that lies fester, and she didn’t want to risk losing the man in whom she’d invested her entire adult life either, especially now that he was settling cases for millions of dollars. Unemployed women approaching forty didn’t sell well in the single world.
Stu wasn’t answering his cell phone, and he hadn’t checked in, which wasn’t like him. He typically called at every stage of a trip to review his schedule and pickup arrangements, which was annoying and comforting at the same time. Katherine stood beyond security, smiling big as the first-class passengers trickled out. Stu wouldn’t be one of them on this trip. But things would be different after the Molson settlement and the Dugan contract. She waited patiently, as she had for a decade.
Katherine wondered if she should soften Stu up with some sex before telling him. She needed to redirect her energy toward her husband anyway. Her erotic adventures during his wilderness adventure had been interesting, but they were unsustainable; she couldn’t continue rubbing up against Stu’s partner and doing “favors” for powerful clients with her husband around. Nor could she keep ducking into the nearest phone booth like a superhero to satisfy her urges. She’d had one last session with herself the night before, imagining that her full-body pillow was Clay. No more, she decided. She would stop the fantasies the moment Stu appeared.
The bulk of the passengers were pouring out now. No Stu yet. She widened her smile. Any time now. She braced herself. Engaging a lawyer in a domestic debate was a challenge, but she could always use emotion. He didn’t understand it well. He tried to convert it into logic and wasn’t always sure of his translation. When she cried or raised her voice, he’d frown and say, “I think you’re feeling upset/lonely/confused/distant/needy because of such-and-so.…” There was an opportunity to fill in the blank with a justification in that sort of analysis, or with contrition.
The flow of passengers had slowed. A woman with small children and too many bags was exiting. Still no Stu. For God’s sake! Katherine checked the flight number for the tenth time. Then suddenly the hallway was empty. She waited until crew began to emerge. She hailed a woman in a navy skirt and jacket with a gold pin in the shape of wings slightly askew on her chest.
“Are there any more passengers?”
“No. Are you waiting for a child?”
“No.” Katherine smiled. A smile made people more likely to help, and the woman was going off duty. Complainers were avoided. Polite and persistent worked best. “I’m missing a husband.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“A little of both.”
The flight attended chuckled. “Let me get you to someone who can help.”
Her charm worked like a charm. Navy Suit escorted her straight to the front of the line, where the male gate agent took over and ran Stu’s name.
“He didn’t board,” the man said.
“In Seattle?”
“In Fairbanks.”
“No. He would have called.”
“I can’t explain that,” the agent said, decidedly less friendly than the attendant, despite the fact that he was on the clock. He returned Katherine’s blank look, signaling that he’d done all he could and there were other customers waiting. He clearly wasn’t happy that Navy Suit had brought her to the front of the line. Katherine’s voice went up an octave, less polite, more persistent.
“Well, where is he? Can’t you track him?”
“Ma’am, we can’t find someone who didn’t get on our plane. It’s not like we lost a bag.”
“No, you lost my husband.”
“Maybe he lost himself.”