"I think Adam might be cheating on me."
Lilly's tearful message sunk in as I hung up the phone. The bottom of my stomach dropped out.
I thought about everything I knew of Adam. Was he capable of it? Of course -- with his easy charm and flirtatious manner he could have any woman he wanted. He had a deeper, darker side than the one he generally presented to the world. I'd seen it just this afternoon.
I looked down at my dark, wooden desk where only a few hours earlier Adam had laid the tiny blue box containing the engagement ring he'd bought Lilly. We'd chatted about their honeymoon, their wedding, how perfect they were for each other. Adam had been so earnest, so honest, that I believed him.
My thoughts wandered to Harry. I thought I was so lucky to find the one for me at nineteen. He promised to love me forever, to always be by my side—promises he never had any intention of honouring. His cheating began before our wedding and he didn't see any problem with continuing to do so after once we were married.
Adam reminded me of Harry -- both handsome and fully aware of it, charming and flirtatious. But Adam's style was more refined than Harry's so it had to be all the more effective. He had a talent for making a woman feel like the most beautiful woman in the world while leaving her completely unaware that he made every other woman feel the same way—even the one standing next to her. Adam's style was a little more refined than Harry's had been, mind you -- and so undoubtedly was all the more effective.
I took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and dialled Lilly's work number. I wasn't sure what to say to her, but if she needed someone to listen and sympathize, I'd give it a try.
"T-thank goodness," Lilly stuttered. "I was starting to wonder where everyone was."
"Rhi's not reachable either?" I'd been under the impression she was pretty much confined to bed rest the last few days of her pregnancy.
Lilly sighed. "I can't call Rhi." I pictured the wounded look on her pretty face; she always wore her emotions out in the open. "She's got bigger things to worry about and anyway, she wouldn't understand."
"Probably not. So what's up? What happened?"
"Oh, Adele..." Lilly's half-gasp, half-sob broke my heart. "I think Adam's cheating on me."
I sat forward in my chair and leaned my forehead in my palm. I knew how devastated she must feel, how hard it was to say those words out loud and deal with the reality behind them. I prayed Lilly was wrong.
"Do you know for sure?"
"Well there are a few things that I've noticed lately." Lilly took a deep breath then continued. "He's been working late a lot. More than usual. When I ask him about it he's awfully vague and usually changes the subject. And he's been acting a little out of sorts too... I catch him watching me when he doesn't realize it and he's got this kind of devious smile — it's hard to explain."
She didn't need to explain it. I'd seen the same smile on Adam only a few hours ago.
"And t-this afternoon one of the women I work with in the English Department called me. She was downtown and saw Adam cozied up with a gorgeous blonde in a corner booth at Mac's. They had their heads together and were in a heavy conversation. They didn't even touch their food. She even held his hand."
There was a long pause as I processed things. Then I almost laughed.
All the pieces started to fall into place. Those extra hours at the restaurant were probably just that -- a chance for Adam to make more money to pay for the engagement ring and save up for the wedding. His sly smile when he thought Lilly wasn't looking must've looked like the one he'd worn this afternoon when he talked about proposing to her. Adam wasn't cheating on Lilly -- he'd been planning to surprise her.
And I promised to keep everything he had told me a secret.
"Maybe it's not what you think," I suggested. "Maybe it wasn't Adam your co-worker saw today."
A rude snort filled my ear. "Just how many dark haired, handsome, tattooed and pierced men do you think there are on this island Adele?"
The insult in Lilly's voice wounded me, but I knew what she was upset so I tried not to let it bother me.
"There has to be a logical explanation for all of this." I felt so guilty that I couldn't tell Lilly the truth. I had to find a way to talk to Adam without Lilly knowing about it before she did something she'd regret. "Look," I continued when Lilly didn't reply. "Take it from me, Lil. Sometimes we see things the wrong way. Sometimes we're wrong about people. I know for a fact that Adam loves you. There is no way that he is cheating on you. He's not that sort of guy."
"Well I'm not going to sit by and let this happen to me," she said with stubborn determination. "I'm going to find out what he's up to."
Once a journalist, always a journalist.
I hoped everything would work out -- that Lilly would find out the truth before she hurt Adam or worse, pushed him away. I had the power to put an end to her worry and pain, but only if I broke my oath as Adam's lawyer. Everything he told me this afternoon had to remain confidential.
Damn.
"I-I have to go," Lilly said. "I have students coming in a few minutes for a meeting."
"Okay. Listen Lil; swear to me that you won't jump to conclusions about this. I'm certain you're mistaken."
She paused and I knew what was going through her mind. I was the last person on the planet who should tell her not to jump to conclusions. If I hadn't seen the warning signs in my relationship with Harry, how could I ask her not to look for them in her own relationship?
"I'll call you later," she said then hung up the phone. Moments passed while I held the receiver and listened to the silence on the other end.
~*~
Sunday morning dawned to find me standing in front of my closet agonising over what to wear. I'm not sure at exactly what point during the remainder of that week that I decided to attend morning service at St. Andrew's Presbyterian, but I almost called Rhiannon to ask for some fashion advice until I remembered that she and Joe weren't at the cottage anymore. They'd moved temporarily to her condo in the city where the hospital was just down the street. With her due at any day it was easier than trying to make the forty-five minute drive from the farm when the time came.
Besides, Rhiannon would have absolutely
no
idea what sort of thing made for appropriate church attire. Her suggestions usually involved showing either as much cleavage or as much leg as possible -- sometimes both -- and since I didn't have much in the way of cleavage, she'd suggest a miniskirt, which wasn't terribly practical in February.
I settled on a pair of wide-legged, dove grey wool trousers and a lavender cashmere cowl neck sweater. I did make one small concession and swapped my big, heavy winter boots for a sexier pair with pointed-toes and two-inch heels.
Nate's church sat on a lonely peninsula at the end of a poorly maintained dirt road. I'd never driven out to St. Andrew's but it was easy to follow the small stream of traffic heading towards the south side of the island.
Heavy, grey clouds covered the sky as I pulled into the gravel parking lot. St. Andrew's turned out to be a small, white clap-board church with simple stained-glass windows and a tidy little spire. The banana coloured front doors made me smile. Only three buildings stood at the end of the peninsula: the church, a stereotypical Island lighthouse from which the light still shone through the gloomy morning, and a small whitewashed house. A picket fence bordered the house on three sides while an old cemetery bordered the fourth. Like so many corners of the island, this one was charmingly trapped in the past.
I tried to blend in with the crowd of parishioners trickling into the church. Most were older, closer to my parents' generation than my own, but there were a few young families scattered about. Somehow the thought of that made me smile -- knowing that there was another generation of people hearing the lessons Nate had to share. I'd spent my own childhood Sundays in Mass and although I'd fallen out of the habit of going to church, I remembered the awe I felt each week as I took part in the traditional ceremony.
