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quarter of the cucumber before wrapping the remainder in plastic
wrap and putting it back in the refrigerator. As she opened the
door, she noticed Kevin in the kitchen behind her, leaning against
the doorjamb that led to the dining room. He took a long drink,
finishing his vodka and continuing to watch her, his presence allencompassing.
He didn’t know she’d left the salon, she reminded herself. He
didn’t know she’d bought a cell phone. He would have said
something. He would have done something.
“Steaks tonight?” he finally asked.
She closed the refrigerator door and kept moving, trying to appear
busy, staying ahead of her fears. “Yes,” she said. “I just turned on
the oven, so it’ll be a few minutes. I’ve got to put the potatoes in
first.”
Kevin stared at her. “Your hair looks good,” he said.
“Thank you. She did a good job.”
Katie went back to the cutting board. She began to cut the tomato,
making a long slice.
“Not too big,” he said, nodding in her direction.
“I know,” she said. She smiled as he moved to the freezer again.
Katie heard the clink of cubes in his glass.
“What did you talk about when you were getting your hair
done?”
“Not much. Just the usual. You know how stylists are. They’ll talk
about anything.”
He shook his glass. She could hear the cubes clink against the
glass. “Did you talk about me?”
“No,” she said.