Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“I’ll send leftovers home for Matt,” Mom added.
“Then we’d love to. We need to go home first to get my cucumber salad out of the fridge, and I’ll check on Matthew. We can be there in about forty-five minutes,” Vi replied while tucking her purse under her arm.
I shifted my attention to Mr. Cory, but he was glancing over my dad’s shoulder, so I turned to follow his gaze. Brenda Swensen peered in our direction, and that’s when it registered that Wesley was looking at her, and she was looking at him.
Brenda Swensen and her long, dark, curly hair.
I held my breath while surveying everyone around us. Was I the only one seeing them? When my gaze snagged on Isaac’s, he narrowed his eyes. I looked down, afraid to make eye contact with anyone.
Afraid someone would see what I was seeing.
Brenda Swensen was the mystery mistress.
That was the voice I couldn’t quite place.
Brenda worked as a waitress at Cosmic Cafe. She was twenty-one. Her dad owned the local sanitation company, and her mom taught third grade. She had a brother who was a freshman at the high school.
Many people thought it was weird that she didn’t go straight to college. She was smart, and her family had enough money to pay for her schooling.
“Want to go swimming at Laura’s?” Heather asked, grabbing my shoulders from behind and startling me.
“Oh …” I whipped around.
“We’re having lunch with the Corys,” my mom answered for me.
Heather eyed me, and then she shot her gaze to Isaac for a second and smirked.
“I’ll call you after lunch,” I said, taking her hand and pulling her toward the parking lot. “Don’t look, but I know who was in bed with Mr. Cory.”
Heather glanced around.
“I said don’t look!” I let go of her hand and linked arms with her, plastering on a fake smile as we passed people milling around, making their way to the parking lot.
“Is she here? Who is she? Is she married too? Tell me!”
I felt sick to my stomach. She was twenty-one. Mr. Cory was fifty-two. What was wrong with her? And him? He had a family. A reputation in the community.
Heather stopped me. “Sarah, who is it?”
My grimace felt permanent. I would never look at him the same way. It shouldn’t have mattered who. Adultery was adultery. But the age difference made it exponentially worse.
“Brenda Swensen.”
Heather blinked several times before shaking her head. “No way. She’s twenty-one.”
“It’s her.”
“No.” She continued to shake her head.
I didn’t blame her because I didn’t want to believe it either. I wanted to be wrong. But I wasn’t.
“You said you didn’t see her face.”
“I heard her voice. It was familiar. I just couldn’t place it. But when I saw him looking at her, it all came together. The hair. The voice. It was her.”
“Gross. No. Sarah, you have to be wrong.”
“I’m not wrong. And they were looking at each other.”
“So what? Maybe he forgot to leave a tip and seeing her reminded him, and maybe she was scowling at him for being cheap.”
I frowned. “Stop. That’s not it. I wish it were. I’m one hundred percent sure about this.”
Heather’s face mirrored mine. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” Her head jutted forward as her jaw unhinged.
“There’s nothing I can do. I told you I can’t be the one to expose his indiscretions. My family has too much to lose.”
“But she’s only twenty-one,” Heather argued.
I shrugged. “An adult.”
Heather rolled her eyes. “Barely.”
“Legal.”
She sighed. “We have to do something.”
I shook my head. “We don’t.” I smiled at my family as they headed toward me. “I’ll call you later,” I said to Heather through my fake smile.
“Okay.” She pivoted and gave my family a wave before heading toward her parents’ car.
“Erin’s coming to lunch,” Mom said. “So you’re riding with the Corys. They're going to their house first. Maybe you can check in on Matt too.”
I nodded, but I wasn’t focused on what she said because my gaze stuck to Mr. Cory walking his wife to their blue Cadillac Seville while turning his head one last time to look at Brenda Swensen. My attention shifted to Isaac as I headed toward their car. He did a good job of keeping a neutral face while opening the back door for me.
“Look at the nice boy I raised,” Violet said.
Wesley eyed his son’s chivalrous act and offered a half grin which made me think he wasn’t as convinced.
“Thank you,” I murmured, making eye contact with Isaac just as I slid into the back seat.
“Set this back there,” Wesley said, handing me his suit jacket as Isaac sat behind him.
I set the folded jacket in the middle seat.
“I hope Matthew’s feeling better,” Violet said.
Wesley responded with a long spiel about his son needing to take better care of himself because the baseball team was counting on him.