The house wasn’t ready to sell, but it was empty and furnished, and she had the key. Keith was staring at the bedroom ceiling, his work clothes in a heap on the floor. “You ever stop and think whether what we’re doing is wrong?”
“Nope. My husband does the same thing with his partner’s widow and God knows who else.”
“I mean with the painting.”
“Oh, hell. That’s nothing. Who’s getting hurt?”
“That school that was supposed to get the real one.”
“Keith, honey, I’m about to lose my house, which would be the end of my career. I don’t have the luxury of worrying about some fancy prep school losing out on a donation. When I think of all the shit I’ve got going on, stuff I haven’t even told my priest about. Starting with you.”
He looked terrified. “Why would you tell a priest about me?”
“Confession, duh. What kind of Irishman are you, anyway?”
“My mom’s an atheist and my dad’s a lapsed Methodist.”
She sat up, leaning on her elbow. “Shut up! Your mom’s not an atheist.”
“She sure is.”
“Will’s daughter? Really?”
“Gramps is the one who drilled it into her. Gram got super religious in her middle age. Things got real contentious around that house for a few years.”
“And your dad’s an Irish Methodist. I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
“Half Irish, his mom was Methodist. My whole childhood, we never went to church once except for my cousin’s wedding.”
“That sounds pretty good to me, to tell you the truth. I probably wouldn’t make the kids go or go myself if it wasn’t for Rigby.”
“He’s pretty serious?”
“Super serious. He goes to confession if he runs over a squirrel. On the other hand, he doesn’t see anything he doesn’t want to. When I started taking the pill ten years ago, I didn’t tell him about it and he didn’t ask, I just stopped getting pregnant and that was fine by him as long as he didn’t know the mechanics of it.”
“So I guess I don’t have to worry about knocking you up.”
She leaned over and kissed him, his mouth tasting faintly of the wine she poured him beforehand. “All I want from you, baby, is orgasms and a better backswing.” She sat all the way up and assumed the lotus position.
“How much trouble do you get in for not confessing something like that?”
“If I don’t confess and get absolution I can’t take Communion. So that Sunday after you first screwed me? I just skipped Communion, but I knew Rigby’d notice if I kept it up, so I just started going up to the altar and taking it anyway.”
“So problem solved.”
She laughed, a surprised, high-pitched sound. “You really don’t know anything about this, do you? Taking Communion in a state of mortal sin is real fucking bad. If I ever do unload all this on my priest, I’m going to be in a lot more trouble about the Communion than the adultery.”
Keith frowned, puzzled at the intricacies of it all, and she found herself envying his ignorance.
When she got home, she found Nina waiting in the driveway at the wheel of an old Mercedes of Glenn’s, a black thing the size of a schooner. She didn’t imagine that this would be good news, and she parked in the garage and went inside the house. Danny was off somewhere and the girls were at the pool until dinnertime, and she opened the front door and beckoned Nina inside.
“Big problem,” Nina said, brushing past her in the doorway. “Haskill’s chowderhead nephew’s on his way here, right now.”
“So?” She led her into the kitchen and took a seat at the breakfast table. “Sorry for the mess,” she said, gesturing at the undone dishes from the morning and the night before.
“I didn’t think he was coming. I told him his uncle was sick, like, three or four days ago. He hemmed and hawed about how expensive it was to fly out here on short notice, and I didn’t offer to have Haskill pay for it. I thought he was going to stay put, but now I get a call he’s on his way in from Ontario. I’ve been trying to get Rigby all afternoon but he isn’t picking up.”
“No, he wouldn’t, he went to Vegas with his whore.”
Nina looked shocked, which pleased Paula. “He told you that?”
“He didn’t have to.”
Nina cocked her head in puzzled admiration. “Well. When he gets back, or starts answering his phone, we need to figure out what we’re doing. I don’t want the nephew and Haskill giving each other ideas about the painting.”
“We don’t need Rigby. You have the nephew’s number?”