"I think you send trouble an engraved invitation."
"Trouble never RSVPs. Actually, I need help with the dinner."
"Dinner? Are you cooking for Solomon? Enticing a man's stomach is the best way to his heart. Perhaps you should cook more often."
"No, and I cook plenty, but he cooks better. It's about our family dinner. I'm shopping and I don't know how much to buy. Or what ingredients."
"Ingredients?" My mother's voice came in a breathless whisper. "Did you hear that, honey? Ingredients! Lexi is buying ingredients!"
"Who's that?" I asked as a muffled voice spoke in the background. "Is that Dad?"
"No, it's your sister."
"I thought we'd order Chinese," said Serena, louder so I could hear her over the phone line. "Alexandra plans to cook? With ingredients?"
"We're not ordering Chinese," I told them.
"Serena wants to know if we should bring the takeout menu anyway?"
"No!"
"She also wants to know if you're done with Antonio yet?"
"I think he's on the surveillance shift, but she could have called him, herself, to ask. What's the rush?"
"We're having dinner together and we're waiting on him."
"I thought your kitchen was ruined?"
"It is. Serena is taking your father and me to Alessandro's."
"And the baby?"
"Victoria, too. She loves their spaghetti."
"Sounds nice."
"I have to go, but let me know if you need me to bring anything for dinner. You'll do fine. Bye, honey!" My mother hung up before I had a chance to quiz her on how many volumes to buy. Instead, I pulled a face at the lonely produce in the cart and pushed on.
An hour later, I had everything I could think of from brand new napkins to paper party plates and plastic forks for my nieces and nephews. I added a few bags of chips and rolled my cart to the clerk, trying hard not to wince as I handed over my card in return for several bags of food that wouldn't last more than an hour. I had to lean against the cart's handlebar to get it to roll out of the supermarket, pointing it towards my car while hoping the momentum would keep it going. I loaded it all into my trunk, returned the cart, and headed for home, wondering about the surveillance on Juliet and whether the new security cameras managed to catch anything yet.
I tried to find a solid connection between Penelope and the stalking incidents, but drew blanks at every turn. Same with the emails Juliet claimed she never sent to work colleagues, and the rude texts to her friends. Everything was circumstantial, at best. At worst, the evidence was non-existent. I even accessed Rob's emails (with his permission) and read through his messages with Penelope. There was nothing that indicated they were anything more than co-parents now; no suggestions or pleadings to get back together, no cruel jibes aimed at Juliet, or his relationship with her, nothing but pleasant exchanges about Robbie's schedule. A cursory check of the trash file didn't reveal any deleted messages from either of them. Not that it meant anything; even I knew verbal conversations could tell a different story, if one or both of them were being careful.
I hated the suspicions about Rob that entered my head once more. He seemed to dote on Juliet so much, and was so looking forward to having a family together. No, he didn't seem like the kind of man who’d want to go back to the ex. From what he claimed, Juliet fully provided the life he wanted with the woman he loved. It was hard not to feel envious of the couple who seemed to have it all.
As I turned onto my driveway, again I wondered if jealousy were the motive. Some people just hated seeing successful people who had something they couldn’t find or achieve. Fortunately, I didn't think I'd be the recipient of those kinds of feelings as I dragged my shopping bags into the house.
My refrigerator groaned with so much food, it took two good slams to close it shut properly. I breathed a sigh of relief that my shopping task was done. All I had to do now was cook the stuff, serve it, and clean up before I could consider my familial duty finished. At least, Garrett was bringing dessert so that was one thing off my mind. All I wanted to do now was kick off my boots, get in the shower, pull on my pajamas and curl up in front of a movie, calm in the knowledge that Juliet was being watched like a hawk.
I was just toeing off my boots in the entryway when my cell phone rang. Garrett's name flashed on the screen. "Yo, bro'," I said.
"Yo yourself. Sam has chicken pox so we can't make dinner."
"Are you kidding? Is he okay? Hey, is this like the time he used red marker all over his body and pretended to have chicken pox?"
"Nope, it's the real deal. I checked. The kid looks like a plague victim."
"That's too bad."
"I checked with Serena and Victoria hasn't had chicken pox yet, and we don't want to infect her, so we're keeping the kids home."
"What about Patrick and Chloe?"
"Patrick had it when he was six, but Chloe hasn't. We're hoping she'll catch it from Sam."
"Is that a good idea?"
"If we want to minimize sick leave from work, yeah."
"Let me know if you need any medicine picked up?"
"We have an entire pharmaceutical shelf devoted to not itching, so we're good. I'm really sorry we can't make it. Serena said you were ordering Chinese for everyone."
"I am not! I'm cooking."
"Oh, well, gee, that really is too bad."
"I can cook!"
"I know that. Let me know what happens; and again, I'm sorry we can't make it."
I promised I would, wished Sam well, and hung up, dropping my phone onto the small console. I jogged up the stairs, walking into the bathroom where I switched on the shower. Just as I pulled off my blouse, the phone rang again. I ignored it. It rang again. On the third call, deciding it must’ve been urgent, I jogged downstairs and answered it.
"Hi, Juliet," I said, with some trepidation as I held my breath. This was the termination call, I was sure. Juliet had, no doubt, lost faith in me after my evidence-less accusation. She and Rob probably had strong objections about my rooting through his emails. Also, hadn't I told her not to use her personal cell phone?
"Lexi!"
I was on alert the moment I heard her breathless voice.
"Juliet? What is it?"
"There's someone in the house." Her voice was thick and fast, and her breathing sounded hard.
"What do you mean? We have cameras watching you every second! We would have picked something up."
"There's someone in here, I swear. I saw them. I saw a shadow and I called out. I thought it was Rob, but they didn't answer so I came up to the bedroom and I called him and he's still out. Then I heard something downstairs."
"Did you call 911?"
"No. Why would they help me? They think I'm some kind of master criminal. They think I'm making all this up."
"Where are you now?"
"The bedroom."
"Does the door lock?"
"No... I think I hear the stairs creaking."
My heart thumped. "Does your bathroom have a lock?"
"The attached bathroom does."
"Go in there now! Take the phone and lock the door. Don't leave until I get there."
"Please hurry."
"I'm going to put you on hold, okay? But stay on the line. I need to call Solomon's team." I put Juliet on hold, and dialed Solomon. Two calls. He didn't pick up either time. I called Delgado, and my sister answered.