Page 72 of Sunday Morning

Heather glanced around.

“I said don’t look!” I let go of her hand and linked arms with her, plastering on a fake smile as we passed people milling around, making their way to the parking lot.

“Is she here? Who is she? Is she married too? Tell me!”

I felt sick to my stomach. She was twenty-one. Mr. Corywas fifty-two. What was wrong with her? And him? He had a family. A reputation in the community.

Heather stopped me. “Sarah, who is it?”

My grimace felt permanent. I would never look at him the same way. It shouldn’t have mattered who. Adultery was adultery. But the age difference made it exponentially worse.

“Brenda Swensen.”

Heather blinked several times before shaking her head. “No way. She’s twenty-one.”

“It’s her.”

“No.” She continued to shake her head.

I didn’t blame her because I didn’t want to believe it either. I wanted to be wrong. But I wasn’t.

“You said you didn’t see her face.”

“I heard her voice. It was familiar. I just couldn’t place it. But when I saw him looking at her, it all came together. The hair. The voice. It was her.”

“Gross. No. Sarah, you have to be wrong.”

“I’m not wrong. And they were looking at each other.”

“So what? Maybe he forgot to leave a tip and seeing her reminded him, and maybe she was scowling at him for being cheap.”

I frowned. “Stop. That’s not it. I wish it were. I’m one hundred percent sure about this.”

Heather’s face mirrored mine. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Her head jutted forward as her jaw unhinged.

“There’s nothing I can do. I told you I can’t be the one to expose his indiscretions. My family has too much to lose.”

“But she’s only twenty-one,” Heather argued.

I shrugged. “An adult.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “Barely.”

“Legal.”

She sighed. “We have to dosomething.”

I shook my head. “Wedon’t.” I smiled at my family as they headed toward me. “I’ll call you later,” I said to Heather through my fake smile.

“Okay.” She pivoted and gave my family a wave before heading toward her parents’ car.

“Erin’s coming to lunch,” Mom said. “So you’re riding with the Corys. They're going to their house first. Maybe you can check in on Matt too.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t focused on what she said because my gaze stuck to Mr. Cory walking his wife to their blue Cadillac Seville while turning his head one last time to look at Brenda Swensen. My attention shifted to Isaac as I headed toward their car. He did a good job of keeping a neutral face while opening the back door for me.