Cheryl Tardif - Children of the Fog

“So…” Leah drawled as she crossed her long legs. “What’s going on with Phil the Pill?”

Sadie scowled. “That’s what I’d like to know. He says he’s working long nights at the firm.”

“And you’re thinking, what? That he’s screwing around?”

Leah never was one to beat around the bush—about anything.

“Maybe he’s just working hard,” her friend suggested.

Sadie shook her head. “He got home at two this morning, reeking of perfume and booze.”

“Isn’t his firm working on that oil spill case? I bet all the partners are pulling late nights on that one.”

Sadie snorted. “Including Brigitte Moreau.”

Brigitte was her husband’s right-hand-woman , as he’d made a point of telling her often. Apparently, the new addition to Fleming Warner Law Offices was indispensable. The slender, blond lawyer, with a pair of breasts she’d obviously paid for, never left Philip’s side.

Sadie wondered what Brigitte did when she had to pee.

Probably drags Philip in with her.

“It could be perfectly innocent,” Leah suggested.

“Yeah, right. I was at the conference after-party. I saw them together, and there was nothing innocent about them. Brigitte was holding onto Philip’s arm as if she owned him. And he was laughing, whispering in her ear.” She pursed her lips. “His co-workers were looking at me with sympathetic eyes, pitying me. I could see it in their faces. Even they knew.”

Leah winced. “Did you call him on it?”

“I asked him if he was messing around again.”

Just before Sam was born, Philip had admitted to two other affairs. Both office flings, according to him. “Both meant nothing,” he had said, before blaming his infidelities on her swollen belly and her lack of sexual interest.

“What’d he say?” Leah prodded, with the determination of a pit-bull slobbering over a t-bone steak.

“Nothing. He just stormed out of the house. He called me from work just before you came over. Said I was being ridiculous, that my accusations were hurtful and unfair.” She lowered her voice. “He asked me if I was drinking again.”

“Bastard. And you wonder why I’m still single.”

Sadie said nothing. Instead, she thought about her marriage.

They’d been happy—once. Before her downward spiral into alcoholism. In the early years of their marriage, Philip had been attentive and caring, supporting her decision to focus on her writing. It wasn’t until she started talking about having a family that things had changed.

She flicked a look at Leah, grateful for her loyal companionship and understanding. Fate had definitely intervened when it had led her to Leah. Her friend had gone above and beyond the duty of friendship, dropping everything in a blink if she called. Leah was her life support, especially on the days and nights when the bottle called her. She’d even attended a few AA meetings with Sadie.

And where was Philip? Probably with Brigitte.

“Come on, my friend,” Leah said, grinning. “I know you really want to swear. Let it out.”

“You know I don’t use language like that.”

“You’re such a prude. Philip’s an ass, a bastard. Let me hear you say it. Bas… tard.”

“I’ll let you be the foul-mouthed one,” Sadie said sweetly.

“Fuckin’ right. Swearing is liberating.” Leah took a careful sip of tea. “So how’s the book coming?”

Sadie smiled. “I finished the text yesterday. Tomorrow I’ll start on the illustrations. I’m so excited about it.”

“Got a title yet?”

“Going Batty.”

Leah’s pencil-thin brow arched. “Hmm… how appropriate.”

Sadie gave her a playful slap on the arm. “It’s about a little bat who can’t find his way home because his radar gets screwed up. At first, he thinks he’s picking up radio signals, but then he realizes he’s picking up other creatures’ thoughts.”

“That’s perfect. Sam’ll love it.”

“I know. I can’t believe I waited so long to write something special for him.”

A few months ago, Sadie decided to take a break from writing another Lexa Caine mystery, especially since her agent had secured her a deal for two children’s picture books.

“It’s been a welcome break,” she admitted. “Lexa needed a year off. A holiday.”

“Some break,” Leah said. “I’ve hardly seen you. You’ve been working day and night on Sam’s book.”

“It’s been worth it.”

“Is it harder than writing mysteries?”

“Other than the artwork, I think it’s easier,” Sadie said, somewhat surprised by her own answer. “But then, Sam inspires me. He’s my muse. Kids see things so differently.”

“Wish I had one.”

Sadie’s jaw dropped. “A kid?”

“A muse, idiot.”

Sadie grinned. “How’s the steamy romance novel going?”

“I’m stumped. I’ve got Clara trapped below deck on the pirate ship, locked in the cargo hold with no way out.”

Since the success of her debut novel, Sweet Destiny , Leah had found her niche and was working on her second historical romance.

“What’s in the room?”

Leah gave her a wry grin. “Cases of Bermuda rum.”

“Well, she’s not going to drink it, so what else can she do?”

“I don’t know. She can’t get the crew drunk, if that’s what you’re thinking. ”

“What if the ship caught on fire?”

Excitement percolated in Leah’s eyes. “Yeah. A fire could really heat things up. Pun intended.”

They were silent for a moment, lost in their own thoughts.

“Hey,” Sadie said finally. “I’ve been tempted to cut my hair. What do you think?”

Leah stared at her. “You want to get rid of all that beautiful hair? Jesus, Sadie, it’s past your bra strap.” In a thick Irish accent, she said, “Have ye lost your Irish mind just a wee bit, lassie?”

“It’s too much work,” Sadie said with a pout.

“What does Philip think?”

“He’d be happy if I kept it long,” she replied, scowling. “Maybe that’s one reason why I want to cut it.”

Leah laughed. “Then you go, girl.”

Half an hour later, they parted ways—with Leah eager to get back to the innocent Clara and her handsome, sword-wielding pirate, and Sadie not so thrilled to be going back to an empty house. As she climbed into her sporty Mazda3, she smiled, relieved as always that she had chosen practical over the flashy and pretentious Mercedes that Philip drove.

She glanced at the clock and heaved a sigh of relief. It was almost time to pick Sam up from school.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Maybe there’s been some progress today.

The instant Sam saw her standing in the classroom doorway, he let out a wild yell and charged at her, almost knocking her off her feet.

“Whoa there, little man,” she said breathlessly. “Who are you supposed to be? Tarzan?”

“We just finished watching Pocahontas,” a woman’s voice called out.

“Hi, Jean,” Sadie said. “How are things today?”

Jean Ellis taught a class of children with hearing impairments.

“Same as usual,” the kindergarten teacher replied. “No change, I’m afraid.”

Sadie tried to hide her disappointment. “Maybe tomorrow.”

She studied Sam, who could hear everything just fine.

Why won’t he speak?

“Did you have a good day, honey?”

Ignoring her, Sam pulled on a winter jacket and stuffed his feet into a pair of insulated boots.

“It was a great day,” Jean said, signing as she spoke. “Sam made a friend. A real one this time.”

Sadie was astounded. Sam’s first real friend. Well, unless she counted his invisible friend, Joey.