Anna tried not to think about Foster and what was happening in Evanston, but she couldn’t help imagining what he had done when he got home. Her note would have infuriated him. She shuddered to think about it.
First, he would have been angry that her car was not in the driveway. The car had always been a flash point with him. With the car, she had a little freedom from his control. She was pretty sure he was embarrassed to have his wife driving around in an old Toyota. Once he had insisted on buying her a new car, but she refused. The Toyota was hers and hers alone. Something had told her that she needed to keep it. It had been her lifeline.
After Aztalan, if she wasn’t there when he came home from work, he would fly into a rage. It didn’t matter what had delayed her. No excuse was good enough. The last time she was late, he had rifled her desk, apparently looking for any indication that she was looking for another job. When she came in the door, he was going through the drawers, throwing her papers over the den.
“Where the hell have you been?” He stood up and grabbed her arm.
“Let go of me!” She jerked her arm away from him and looked around the room at the mess he had made. “What are you doing?”
“Never mind that. I asked you where you have been.”
“I was at the grocery store. My car got blocked in by a fire truck and an ambulance. An elderly man had the nerve to have a heart attack in the parking lot. I couldn’t exactly go to the paramedics and demand that they move because my husband’s unreasonable demands are more important than a man’s life.”
When he narrowed his eyes, she said, “Okay. How about this? I was abducted by aliens but they let me go when I told them what you would do to me if I was late.”
“Very funny.” He stalked out of the room, but turned around in the doorway.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish