Page 74 of When the Smoke Clears

“Is this Kathryn?” Somehow, my voice comes out steady.

“Yes? Who’s calling?”

What am I risking if I tell her the truth?

Everything. I’m risking everything.

“My name is Stephanie.” I wait. “Stephanie Young.”

“Young?” She startles. “Do I know you?”

“I think we have someone in common.” My anger renews. It’s what I need to continue. “Alan.”

“Alan?” She falls silent again. I wait. “How do you know Alan?”

“He’s my husband,” I say, flatly.

“I beg your pardon!” She nearly shrieks through the phone. “Is this a joke?” She’s angry. As she should be. He’s lied to us both, and for who knows how long.

“I’ve been married to Alan for ten years.”

“We’re obviously talking about two different people. I’ve been married to Alan for six years, and people can’t marry more than one person.” Her tone indicates that she thinks she’s solved our problem.

“Where do you think I got your number from?”

“I—” She falters. “I have no idea where you got my number from.”

“Alan Young from Texas is my husband. He’s here now.”

“Let me talk to him.” She almost spits the words.

“He’s on his way to a funeral.” I think.

“Convenient,” she mutters. “Well, no one in Alan’s life has passed recently, so we must be talking about different people.”

I rattle off his number to her and she quiets. “You sent him a text yesterday to make sure he arrived at the hotel ok. He was showering in our bathroom.”

There’s silence and then she whispers, “This is insanity.”

“The last ten years have been insanity. This is reality.” It’s now or never. “I’d like to compare some things, if you’re comfortable.”

“Might as well. I’ve devoted years to this prick. If you’re right, I’m about to burn all of his clothes on the lawn.”

Her idea doesn’t sound half bad.

Chapter 26

Maci

Thefuneralhomeparkinglot hosts two cars and a truck squished together near the front. However, the entire left side of the lot is overrun with motorcycles.

My voice comes out in a whisper. “They came.”

“You didn’t think they would?” Sutton’s curiosity is genuine.

I shrug. “I think I pictured a handful of them coming, at most. Not a large portion.”

Sutton’s lips purse, and he surveys the sea of motorcycles.

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