Now Daisy couldn’t sleep. How could she, when she knew such a devastating secret? Did Mark John know his wife was cheating on him? Had Melody Beecham found out the afternoon of the retirement party that her husband was cheating on her?
Should she tell someone?
Daisy’s mind reeled with questions about Fiona, the woman in the picture whom she’d never met in person.
She had so many questions. She knew one thing--she didn’t want to go to work on Monday morning. She couldn’t face Mark John.
But Monday morning came, as it always did, and she had to go to work. She tossed and turned all Sunday night until the sun brightened the eastern sky with a gossamer ribbon of pink.
She had looked forward to spending the day ensconced in research at the Library of Congress, but she couldn’t summon the energy she needed to take the Metro and fight the tourists thronging around the federal buildings.
Daisy was on her second cup of coffee when Jude came into her office. She had a bad habit of barging in without knocking--apparently she felt it was her prerogative as the senior editor to go into anyone’s office any time she felt like it.
It annoyed Daisy more than usual that morning.
“Do you ever knock?” she asked.
“Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Jude replied.
Daisy took a deep breath and reminded herself to be polite.
“What do you need?” she asked.
“Mark John isn’t here yet,” she said. “I’m just letting you know so that if you need anything, come to me.”
Daisy nodded tightly. “Okay.” Jude left quickly, seeming to sense that Daisy wasn’t in the mood to listen to her.
It was just like Jude to let everyone in the office know she was temporarily in charge, Daisy thought with disgust. Did anyone even care?
Mark John came in about an hour later. He looked like he hadn’t slept much, either. He closed the door to his office a little too loudly and Daisy waited for Jude to go running to him.
She didn’t have to wait long.
A minute or two later Daisy heard Mark John’s voice.
“Dammit!” he yelled. There was a sound of breaking glass. Daisy winced.
A lower, softer voice responded to Mark John a moment later. Daisy guessed that Jude was trying to calm him down. Daisy wondered what was going on. She briefly considered tiptoeing to the door to listen, but she quickly discarded that idea as both nosy and stupid.
She tried to concentrate on the work in front of her, but the office felt too unsettled, too charged with emotion. She grabbed her jacket and went outside for a walk.
When she returned, the receptionist nodded silently and gave Daisy a small smile. Daisy hoped that meant everything had calmed down in the office.
She walked past Jude, who was in her own office, and noticed that everything seemed to have quieted in her absence.
As much as she didn’t want to bother Mark John, Daisy had to get started on the research for the women’s history articles. She took her notebook and knocked lightly on Mark John’s office door.
“Yes?” he asked.
“It’s Daisy. Are you interested in talking about the women’s history articles right now?”
She could hear him sigh. “Might as well. Come in.”
She opened the door reluctantly, expecting to see Mark John sitting behind his desk. Instead, he was pacing before the big window. There were large bags under his eyes and his hair was disheveled. A quick glance revealed to Daisy that the photo of his wife was missing from the credenza.
“Sit down,” he said, gesturing toward a chair. He didn’t turn around from the window.
Daisy sat down and opened her notebook. As much as she loved her computer, she couldn’t give up her real paper and pencils.
“What do you have in mind?” Mark John asked, finally turning around and sitting down at his desk.
Daisy spent several minutes fleshing out some of the ideas she had jotted down for the articles. Mark John seemed to like the direction she wanted to take, and she was thrilled because her approach was going to require a lot of research. That was her favorite part of the job.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Mark John said as Daisy stood up to leave. “It’s been a long morning.”
Part of Daisy wanted to ask what was going on, but part of her was pretty sure she’d hear more than she wanted to know.
It wasn’t long before her hunch was confirmed.