The First Husband by Laura Dave Page A

though.
    “It’s all the dust in here,” he said. “It got right into my lungs. Brutal.”
    “Maybe it’s not such a good idea to be around it?” I said.
    “Definitely not,” he said.
    But he was standing up again and smiling as he said it. Only then did I realize how fast my heart was beating.
    “Don’t worry,” he said. “It sounds worse than it is.”
    “You said that already. . . .”
    “So I guess it must be true.”
    He took my hand, giving it a firm squeeze, then a second one as if to say, I’m fine, really .
    I squeezed back, I’m glad.
    Then he motioned toward the ceiling and all around himself, proudly. “So?” he said. “I know it’s just the bones of the place still, but what do you think? What do you think of our so-far-unnamed endeavor?”
    I looked at Griffin for another second and then looked around, trying to envision the restaurant—what it would be—beneath the construction. The bones were already hinting at how great it was going to look: wide-open beams and rafters, rustic tables of different sizes and a hearth oven, lanterns everywhere. And, of course, that large fireplace leading to the red top.
    “I think it’s going to be amazing,” I said. “Really amazing.”
    He gave me a big smile. “The Stones are seeping into the walls,” he said. “Giving the room some flavor.”
    “Maybe you should call the restaurant the Stones, then?”
    “I’m not so sure about that.”
    “How about Annie’s Place then? Or just . . . Annie’s? Everyone likes a place called Annie’s. I think both have a certain ring to them.”
    I smiled so he’d know I was mostly kidding. In response, he wrapped his arms around me.
    “I’ll put those in the file for sure,” he said, bending down and kissing the side of my face, holding there. “And how has your day been going? I was getting a little worried. I called the house a few times and you didn’t pick up.”
    “I ended up bringing the twins to school.”
    I thought I felt it then, just the softest tension—his lips against my cheek starting to release. But then, almost as quickly, he was back with me, lips pressing against my skin.
    “That was nice of you.”
    “It wasn’t a big deal,” I said. “Jesse needed to get into Boston for a meeting with his dissertation adviser.”
    “It was a big deal,” he said. “Aren’t you on deadline for your latest ‘Checking Out’?”
    Another reminder that I was on deadline—Peter anxiously reminding me himself via phone and e-mail, at increasingly frequent intervals. A looming deadline not only to turn in the new column, but to make a decision as to where I wanted to travel next. The answer no closer to coming to me.
    But I just smiled and shrugged. “It was kind of fun, actually,” I said. “I saw a little of the town. Got to hang with the twins, and see their school. Plus, I met Gia.”
    This time I knew I wasn’t imagining his tension.
    “You met Gia?” he said.
    I nodded. “In the breezeway. We ended up talking for a little while and she seemed lovely to me. A little like she could give Martha Stewart a run for her money, but I actually thought maybe I made a first friend here. I know that sounds like I’m in high school, but it felt like I knew her or something. She just seemed . . . lovely to me.”
    “You mentioned . . .”
    “Is she not?”
    “No,” he said. “She is. She’s lovely.”
    I looked up, met his eyes. “Right, so I’m trying to figure out how I offended her. All I know is she walked away from me quickly after I told her we had gotten married. Why would she care about that? You dated in high school .”
    Griffin closed his eyes, slightly shaking his head. “Shit,” he said.
    “What? She can’t still be into you after all this time. That’s crazy. I mean, I’ll never get over you, but . . .”
    Griffin opened his eyes, looking at me, not smiling at my joke. Or, for that matter, at me.
    “Annie,” he said, “I never said that Gia was just my high