I snort. Jason is good with computers, but cooking is not his thing. When he’s chopping vegetables, he’s just as likely to slice off a chunk of his finger—I’d rather not have blood all over my salad. “That’s okay.”
“What?” He points at the tomato on the counter. “I could chop that up for you.”
“Hmm. Could you?”
“Sure. I have great knife skills or whatever.” When I give him a look, he grins at me. “Come on. It’s just for our dinner. It’s not like we’re entering the salad in a salad competition.”
“How about you set the table?”
“Your wish is my command, m’lady.”
I roll my eyes. “Can you yell for Hannah and Liam to come down first?”
“You got it.”
Jason pulls his tie the rest of the way off as he wanders over to the staircase to yell for the kids to come down for dinner. Then he obediently comes back to the kitchen to set the table. He’s being a five-star husband tonight.
“Did you have a good day at work today?” I say as I start chopping the tomato.
He nods eagerly. “The team is making great progress. Everyone is working really hard, and we’re going to have a new product soon. It’s exciting.”
Jason explained to me some of the software they’re building, and I don’t entirely understand it. He is definitely some kind of genius. It’s a bit intimidating, because I’m definitely not a genius, but after twenty years of marriage, I don’t feel insecure about that anymore. At least it means we can afford a nice house and nice cars. And maybe if he gets some time off, we can take a nice vacation as a family.
Hannah wanders into the kitchen in her bare feet just as the timer goes off for the meatloaf. Jason makes a big deal out of how delicious it looks, but Hannah just crinkles her nose. She glares at the gray mound, glistening with tomato sauce and its own juices. “We’re noteatingthat, arewe?”
“Of course not,” Jason says. “That’s our new TV. What would you like to watch?”
“Dad,” she groans. She narrows her eyes at the dinner I just spent the last hour cooking. “It’s just so… meaty. It’s like this big hunk of meat.”
“Yes, Hannah. That’s the definition of a meatloaf.”
She sinks into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “I’d rather have chicken.”
“Well, I’d rather be in the Bahamas.” Jason shrugs. “We don’t always get what we want. Sometimes you have to do horrible things like eating delicious meatloaf.”
I smile to myself as I continue chopping the tomato. “Where is Liam? Can somebody tell him to come down?”
Hannah takes out her phone and starts thumbing through her text messages. “Liam isn’t home.”
What? “He isn’t?” I try to keep the tremor out of my voice. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know. Track practice? What’s the big deal? It’s not that late.”
I glance out the window, where the sun has already dipped in the sky. “The sun is down.”
“So?” Hannah keeps her eyes on her phone. “He probably went to eat somewhere with his friends or something. Why are you freaking out?”
“I’m not freaking out.”
But she’s right. Iamfreaking out. I look over at Jason, who doesn’t seem even the slightest bit concerned that Liam is not home. Which makes sense, because our son is sixteen years old and practically driving. He can be responsible for himself. He’s not even late yet. He’s come home at this time before.
But it’s not Liam I’m worried about.
My hands are shaking so badly that I slip with the knife and the blade goes right into my left index finger. Blood immediately pools all over the cutting board.
“Geez, Erika!” Jason winces and goes for the paper towels. He grabs two squares and thrusts them in my direction. “Are you okay? That looks like a bad cut.”
I press the paper towels against my finger, and they immediately saturate with crimson. But the cut on my finger is the least of my concerns. Where is Liam? All I can think about is Olivia Reynolds. What if he’s with her?
