The Language of Secrets Read Online Free PDF Page A

an open jar of caramel sauce on the kitchen counter. Both girls tottered and fell. The jar broke. Caramel sauce splattered across the floor. The dog yelped. Lissa shrieked. And Julie shouted “You dummy-head!” at the top of her lungs. Caroline wedged the receiver between her shoulder and cheek and dropped to her knees, checking to see if either of the girls had been hurt.
    “Sweet Caroline, have I called at a bad time?” Mitch sounded faintly amused. His tone embarrassed Caroline. She could picture him, immaculate and cool, phoning from a chic eatery or an elegant bar—some fastidious region where there were no sticky kitchen floors or little girls screaming “dummy-head.”
    “Mitch, I didn’t turn out like the women I’m sure you hang around with now. I’m a mom with two kids and a dog. My life is noisy, okay? I don’t spend my time quietly clawing my way up the ladder at some big law firm and then basking in silky silence while I get my nails done and my legs waxed.”
    “Hmmm. I remember a lot about those legs. But I don’t remember much silence.” He paused, waiting for Caroline to respond.
    She wanted to erase how envious she’d just sounded of thekind of sleek, accomplished women who were a part of his life. She wanted to come back at him with something light and witty. But she was too distracted—worried about the broken glass and the fact that the girls weren’t wearing shoes.
    Mitch chuckled. “Ah, but that was a long time ago. When we were all young and beautiful. You, of course, were especially beautiful in the buff. But I digress. The purpose of this call is to ask if you and my old buddy Rob might want to have dinner with me tomorrow night.”
    “What? You’re not in Chicago? You’re here?” Caroline took a towel out of the sink and wiped at the mess on the floor. Her face had flushed the moment she’d realized he was in town. All it had taken was the thought of seeing him.
    “Yup, for two days. Doing a deposition in a major criminal case. Very high-profile. Big article in this month’s
Newsweek
. I’m in L.A., at the Baldwin. You know, we should call Barton, too. Get the whole gang together. The last time the four of us were in the same place at the same time was at your wedding, Sweet C. We’re overdue. So what do you say? Eight-thirty tomorrow night? Here at the hotel. My treat. Champagne, caviar, and lots of French crap with truffles on it.”
    “Tomorrow night? We can’t. It’s Halloween, the girls need to go trick-or-treating. And besides, Robert’s not here. He’s in Fresno. He went to an insurance seminar.” Caroline immediately wanted to take the words back. They made her feel like the idiot wife of a small-town businessman, carelessly revealing the excruciating blandness of her life.
    “Okay. Forget Rob. And Barton.” Mitch’s voice was low. There was the slightest hesitation before he spoke again. “It’s you I want to see.”
    “I want to see you, too.” Caroline was dropping bits of brokenglass into the trash—tiny jagged shards slipping in among the remains of a blueberry muffin and a crumpled coloring-book likeness of a fairy princess. “I mean, I’d love to, but …”
    “So if dinner’s out, have lunch with me instead. Come on, Sweet C, who knows when we’ll ever see each other again. Bring pictures of the kiddies. And I’ll show you snapshots of my overvalued co-op and my dog. A lot of people think there’s an uncanny resemblance.”
    “Between you and the co-op or you and the dog?” she said.
    Caroline heard him explode into laughter and she felt effervescent—like someone she used to be.
    *
    It was late. The girls were finally asleep. There was perfect quiet in the house.
    Caroline lifted her foot from the water and traced the tiny fish shapes embossed on the tiles of the bathroom wall. She’d lit candles on the shelf above the tub and had sipped half a glass of wine. She was relaxed and ready to go to sleep.
    She lowered her foot and lay,