I watch as Chris climbs into a LeSabre parked across the lot from me. I wait a few minutes, wanting him to drive off first. But even though I see clouds of exhaust coming out of his tailpipe, indicating the engine is on, the vehicle doesn’t move.
Perhaps Chris is making a phone call.
I decide to make one, too.
Marissa had said Matthew was at his office, but I dial Matthew’s cell number anyway, thinking that it’s still probably the most efficient way to reach him.
It rings three times and I wonder if he really had a work emergency or—and this could be me projecting—if it was merely an acceptable excuse to avoid the rambunctious Cub Scout event.
Then he picks up, sounding a bit out of breath.
“Hey, I’m glad I caught you.” I watch Chris’s car out of my rearview mirror as I speak. It still isn’t moving. “I know you’re at the office, but I was hoping we could chat.”
“I’m really crazed, Avery. Can this wait?”
“It won’t take long. It’s about something that came up last night.”
Matthew hesitates.
“I’m actually downtown already,” I fib. “How about we meet at Giovanni’s for a quick coffee?” I name Matthew’s regular take-out place, the restaurant where I saw Polly.
When he doesn’t immediately reply, I say firmly, “It’s important.”
Matthew gives a little laugh. “Okay, you caught me. I lied to Marissa; I’m not actually at work.”
You’ve got to be kidding me, I think.
“I’m at the Wharf. If you really need to talk now, come here.”
* * *
Typically, in the cases I take on, I act as a funnel for clients: their problems seem overwhelming and chaotic at first, but as we chip away at their situation, their issues distill into manageable entities.
With the Bishops, it’s the opposite.
For our seventh session, Exposure, I’m splitting the time between Marissa and Matthew.
The Wharf is set on the Potomac River, and in the summer it’s usually full of tourists and residents alike. There’s everything from restaurants to shops to a Ferris wheel. Today, some people are milling around, but it’s too early in the year for the crowds. The area Matthew directed me to is quiet; a dozen vessels ranging from catamarans to big sailboats line both sides of a long wooden pier. Most of the boats are winterized, covered up to protect them from the elements until warmer days arrive.
A few men are working on the edge of the dock, and another is tinkering with something on his sleek-looking cigarette boat. I stand at the spot Matthew directed me to—an outdoor bar called the Watering Hole, which is closed now—and see him waiting for me by the end of the pier, standing with his back to the Potomac. I walk toward him.
He looks boyish, with his wind-ruffled hair and wide, open smile. It’s as if a weight he has been carrying around is finally slipping off his back.
“Surprise!” he says, then does something that truly takes me off guard: he opens his arms and envelops me in a brief, hard hug.
When he releases me, he turns and gestures to the boat behind him. It’s beautiful, with its glossy wood detail against the gleaming-white fiberglass hull.
“You bought this?”
Matthew shakes his head. He can’t seem to stop grinning. “But it’s mine for the weekend. Tomorrow is our anniversary. Twelve years. Marissa thinks we’re going to some fancy restaurant. But I’m bringing her down here for a catered dinner and moonlight sail. Want to take a look?”
He motions for me to kick off my shoes and step aboard. “Picture a table for two right here, with poached lobster and champagne from the year we were married.” He gestures. “I’ve got a playlist on my phone, songs that mean something to us. Blankets in case it gets cold. And I’ve arranged for Bennett to spend the night with his friend Charlie. She’s going to love it, right?”
“I would imagine so.” But I’m beginning to wonder if this is what Marissa truly desires.
“Let me show you the rest.”
We climb down six steep, narrow steps into the cabin, where there’s a bedroom, bathroom, and living room. The spaces are tiny, but everything is beautifully appointed.
“Can I get you anything? Marissa loves these grapefruit seltzers, or there’s orange juice. I just stocked the fridge.”
“No, thanks.” I take a seat on the curved banquette.
Matthew sits opposite me. “So, I’m seeing you twice in two days. Last night was fun, right?”