Then things moved quickly-a June wedding and Theo born ten months later. Reality, yes, they’d had nothing but reality since then: diapers, mortgage, incorporation, school conferences, chicken pox, big jobs falling through, big jobs not falling through. And then this weekend.

Raoul shut off the engine. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I need the truth. I need to hear the truth from your mouth. Did you-?” Raoul wasn’t sure he’d be able to speak the words. “Did you have sex with Jacob last night?”

“I need to explain-”

“No,” Raoul said. “No. I don’t want you to explain. I want an answer. Yes or no. Did you sleep with Jacob?”

Silence.

Raoul was angry enough to hit her, but instead he slammed his hands against the steering wheel, inadvertently hitting the horn, which sent a flurry of seagulls into the air around them. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

Raoul extracted his keys from the ignition and tucked them into his jeans pocket. He climbed out of the car, removed his shoes, and sprinted down the beach in his bare feet. He ran as fast as he could, keeping just above the shoreline. He ran over stones and shards of clam shell, he pumped his arms and forced himself to go even faster. When he started to tire, he slowed to a jog, but he kept going. He wanted to go as far as he could; he wanted to be miles away. And then, when he was completely exhausted, he stopped. He was alone on a stretch of beach on his island; the truck was just a red dot in the distance. It was hot, and Raoul was thirsty. His headache was back. He wanted to have a life like Jacob’s that he could run away from, that he could leave with only a day’s notice. But for Raoul, there was too much at stake: his kids, his house, his company, his work. Raoul trudged through the sand toward his truck. And his wife.

To his surprise, she wasn’t crying. She was sitting in the truck bed with her head propped up against the cab, eyes closed. She looked peaceful, although Raoul doubted she was actually asleep. He fought off the urge to slap her. He grabbed her arm.

She started, banged her head. When she saw him, her eyes filled. “How did you find out?”

Raoul watched the waves pummel the shore. He was parched. “Val told me.”

“Val?”

“Jacob told her last night, I guess, and she came to the job site this morning and informed me.”

“So Val knows.”

“Yes. Are you going to explain what happened?”

And so, Kayla told him the story. About John Gluckstern and Antoinette’s daughter, Lindsey. About Val turning the tables to get herself out of trouble, giving the police Kayla’s pills. About how Kayla confronted Val at her house and yes, Val admitted to steering the police in Kayla’s direction because Kayla was a housewife and therefore it didn’t matter if Kayla took the blame.

‘I was so furious with her last night, Raoul, I could have killed her. And you. Because you knew about Theo and Antoinette. You knew and you kept it from me. I was so mad, and Jacob was just there. He was revenge on two fronts. But I regretted it as soon as it happened.” Kayla’s eyes without makeup looked very small and sad. “I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t something you can apologize for. You let Jacob fuck you.” The words were so offensive, Raoul had to lower his head and suck in some air. He needed water. “You broke your marriage vows.”

“Huh!” she said. “As if you haven’t broken them yourself.”

“I haven’t,” he said. “And believe me, there is nothing I would like better than to tell you right now that I did screw Pam Ely, but I didn’t. Because I am a married man. I believe in marriage, Kayla. At least I did until right now.”

She sat with that awhile. He could see every nuance that crossed her face. You didn’t sleep with Pamela Ely? Suspicion, then relief, even happiness. Then guilt, her defenses resurfacing. “You lied to me, Raoul. You lied about Theo.”

He remembered sitting across from her at Company of the Cauldron, sweating with the secret. It was an instance when he understood his two choices and he chose the easy solution over the right one. “I was trying to protect you.”

“Well, look where we are now. Theo had an affair with Antoinette and got her pregnant. He ransacked her house. Antoinette might be dead and somehow I am a murder suspect. Do you think that upsets me?”

“No one will believe it, Kayla.”

“Everyone will believe it!” she said. “I heard the messages people were leaving on the machine at home. I know there was an article in the paper.”

“The police have no evidence.”

“They have all they need: the pills, the champagne glasses, the belated phone calls. I should have called 911 right away.”

“I told you that,” Raoul said. “And there’s something else you should know. Theo destroyed the living room of the Tings’ house with an axe.”

“There was an axe in the Jeep,” Kayla said.

They were both quiet for a while, watching the violent waves.

“Where is Antoinette?” Raoul said.

“I wish I knew,” Kayla said. Her voice softened. “She was carrying our grandchild, Raoul.”

Raoul stared at the beach. He could picture the freckles across Kayla’s nose that first summer, the white straps of her bikini crossing her back in an X. Suddenly, his stomach didn’t feel so good.

“I can’t deal with this thing about Jacob,” Raoul said. “Maybe I’m being macho, maybe I’m being overly sensitive, but I can’t have Jacob hanging around in our marriage. The idea of Jacob, I mean. I’m thinking… about separation.” Raoul couldn’t bring himself to say the word divorce. Divorce, as far as Raoul understood it, was something that happened to other people-people who thought it was okay to give up, walk out, try their luck elsewhere. It didn’t happen to Raoul and Kayla.

“How can I blame you?” Kayla said. She buried her face in her hands. “I ruined everything.” She sniffled. “These last two days have been awful. And now I’ve contributed to the mess. I wanted to contribute! I wanted to be as bad, as lawless, as everybody else.”

“You succeeded,” he said.“I’m going to need some time and space to think about this, Kayla. Time alone.”

“So you want me to move out?” Kayla said.

“No,” Raoul said. “Yes. Maybe. A vacation, maybe. You could go on vacation.”

“I don’t deserve a vacation,” Kayla said. “You should go on vacation.”

“I have work,” Raoul said.

“I don’t want to go on vacation,” Kayla said.

“We don’t have to decide right now,” Raoul said. “Let’s just go home.” He had to believe that dealing with this would be easier under his roof, within the walls that he himself had constructed. “Let’s go home and help our son.”

At home, Kayla went upstairs to check on Theo. Raoul poured himself a tall glass of water and found Luke and Cassidy in the living room, parked in front of the TV. A show about hot-air ballooning.

“Where’s Jennifer?” Raoul asked.

“Beach,” Luke said.

“Did anyone call?” Raoul asked.

“The phone rang,” Cassidy B. said. “But we didn’t answer.”

“Thank you. You two can go outside and play.”

“Do we have to?” Luke said.

“Yes.”

Reluctantly, they picked themselves up off the floor. Raoul shut off the TV.

Kayla yelled down from upstairs. “Kids, where’s Theo?”

Luke and Cassidy B. were quiet. Luke scratched a mosquito bite. Raoul checked the driveway-all the cars were there.

“Tell us where he went,” Raoul said.

Luke stared at his father, cold and calm. “He went to the police station.”

“The police station?”

“He called them,” Cassidy B. said. “They came and picked him up.”

“He called them?“ Raoul said. “You’re sure about that?”

Cassidy B. put her index finger to the corner of her mouth as though she had to scan the far reaches of her memory. “He called to see if they’d found Aunt Antoinette. And when they said no, he asked if they could come get him. He said he had things to tell.”

“They came in a squad car,” Luke said. “We saw. But no lights.”

Kayla descended the stairs, looking pale. “You two go outside,” she said. “I’ll be out in a minute to throw the Frisbee.”

“I’m sick of Frisbee,” Luke said. But he and Cassidy obediently tied their sneakers and left the house through the sliding glass door.

“I’ll get Theo,” Raoul said. “I’ll find out what’s going on.”

“Thank you,” Kayla said. “I can’t deal with that detective again.”

Raoul’s cell phone rang. The phone was there on the coffee table where he’d left it. He and Kayla stared at it.

“Leave it be,” Raoul said. “I’m going.”

At first, the police officer who sat behind the glass at the front desk wouldn’t tell Raoul whether Theo was there.

“Listen, I’m his father. I don’t know how much more plainly I can put it to you. Do you want me to bribe you?” Raoul slid some money underneath the glass. “Here, take this. It’s all yours if I can see my son.”

The officer eyed the money disdainfully. He stopped filling out his piddly, unimportant form, smoothed the front of his blue uniform shirt, and disappeared into the back.

Raoul took a deep breath, looked around. The place was a dungeon. They should remodel. Put in some windows.

A door clanked open, and Paul Henry stuck his head into the waiting room. “Raoul?” he said. “Follow me.”

Raoul trailed Paul Henry down the hall. It smelled medicinal, like Ben Gay. Or maybe that smell was coming from Paul Henry. Raoul wished he hadn’t drunk so much the night before. He wished he’d never hired Jacob Anderson. The thought of Jacob made Raoul’s stomach swoop. Jacob inside his wife. Theo, he thought, what have you done?

Behind a door marked PRIVATE, Theo sat at a long table, wiping his eyes with balled-up tissues. When he saw Raoul, he cried harder. It embarrassed Raoul to watch Theo cry in front of the other men. Buck up, Raoul wanted to say. Be strong. Except that wasn’t how he and Kayla had raised Theo at all; they’d raised him to express his emotions honestly. Raoul put his hands on Theo’s shoulders.