Page 3 of Spicy Nick

“Oh, bullshit.” My cousin glares at me. “Don’t be pathetic. How hard could it be? After all, you interrogate people for a living.”

I roll my eyes. That’s a gross exaggeration—and certainly not how I’d describe my role as a police officer in our very small town. But she’s not entirely wrong. “I think that may be partof the problem. I don’twantto interrogate my wife. Whatever secret she’s keeping, I know she’d have told me about it if she wanted me to know. And if I ask about it, already knowing it’s a secret…”

“Then you put her in the position of having to lie to you. Got it.”

“She doesn’t ‘have to’ lie,” I say, not really thinking it through. “I mean, no one does, right? It’s always a choice. She could choose to say nothing, instead.” Which—fuck my life—is exactly what she is doing. Isn’t it?

“Uh-huh.” Lucy smirks having clearly reached the same conclusion. “And how’s that working out for you?”

“It sucks,” I answer, but then honesty compels me to add, “But…then again, so would the alternative. So…”

Given my job, I can’t always tell my wife about everything I’m involved in. And I’m not sure I’d want to even if that weren’t the case. There was a brief time when my wife turned psychic; when she didn’t need me to tell her what was on my mind—because she already knew. It was not our finest hour as a couple. Demanding that she reveal all her own secrets now seems wildly hypocritical.

“So where does that leave you?” Lucy asks.

“Uh…royally screwed?” I suggest.

Lucy laughs. “Well, yeah. But you’ve always been that when it comes to Scout. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She had. Twenty-five years ago. When Lucy first found out that I’d fallen for one of her best friends she’d been furious with both of us.

“I can’t believe you’d be this excited about finally getting to say, ‘I told you so’,” I joke…or sort of joke.

“Hey, vindication tastes even better cold than revenge does,” she sort of jokes back. “But help me out here, cuz. Because it seems like what we’re both saying is that this is nothing newfor you guys; that this is just the status quo. So, again, what’s different? What exactly is the problem?”

“Honestly? I’m not even sure there is one. I just get the sense she’s worried about something. More so than usual.”

“And you have no idea what?”

“Nope. All I know is that she’s actively not confiding in me about it. And that suggests that whatever it is, it’s something to do with me. Or with us. Or…shit. I dunno. Maybe I’m wrong?”

“Hmm.” Lucy shoots me a speculative look then says, “Much as I’d love to disagree, you’re probablynotwrong. Whatever your faults, you’ve got good instincts—especially when it comes to Scout. But maybe it’s not so bad. D’you know what this reminds me of? It’s kind of like that time, right before your wedding. She was acting the same way then, too, wasn’t she?”

Christmas songs are playing over speakers set amid the tree branches—something about making spirits bright. Well, mine just took a nosedive. It can’t be a good sign that Lucy’s jumped this quickly to the same conclusion that I have, can it? “I know. That’s what I’m thinking, too.”

“Really?” To my surprise, Lucy perks up. “You think she’s pregnant?”

“What? No!” I stare at her. What the fuck? Where didthatidea come from? Unless… “Wait—is she? I mean, did she say something to you about it?”

“No. Of course not. But that’s not a surprise, is it? She didn’t tell me last time either, so…”

“But…” My heart’s racing at the thought, and I’m feeling all sorts of confused.

Lucy frowns. “Why are you looking like I dropped a bombshell?You’rethe one who suggested it.”

“No, I didn’t. That’s not…”

“Well, what else did you mean then? Thatwasthe big secret she was keeping before the wedding, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but…she wasn’t keeping it a secret fromme!”

“Oh. Well, how nice for you,” Lucy mutters—completely unfairly, I might add, given that I’m the father of said child. “But if that’s not what you were hinting at, whatwereyou talking about?”

“I’m talking about how she got cold feet at the last minute. How she started having second thoughts and tried to call off the wedding.”

“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Lucy scoffs. “Why’re you worried about that? You’re already married! It’s too late for her to back out now. That can’t possibly be the problem.”

But it could, and we both know it. Marriages break up every day. Scout’s father was married multiple times.

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