thirty-six

Tessa

I scan the clothes hanging in my closet and pick out a sleeveless white A-line dress to wear to lunch with Dante later today. I haven’t said anything to him about the phone call from Kyndal yesterday, but I plan to tell him today at lunch. After I lay the dress flat on the bed, I glance at the clock and realize there’s time to kill before I need to get ready. There are a few things of Trevor’s I still need to go through. The nightstand catches my eye, so I decide to start there.

When I pull the drawer open, my eyes land on his cell phone. I forgot it was there. I turn it on, and once the home screen loads, I enter the passcode. The first thing I do is scan Trevor’s old text messages, and I’m relieved when there aren’t any from Kyndal. I wonder if Trevor had a burner phone, so he could keep in touch with her, but I dismiss the idea just as quickly. After I go through Trevor’s call log, I listen to his voice mail messages.

“Mr. Salinger, this is Tracy at Westbrook Urology. Dr. Hunt would like you to call the office at your earliest convenience.”

The most recent one confuses the hell out of me, and it’s from the day before Trevor died. I play back the message three times while I search for a pen and paper to jot the number down. When I hang up, I stare at Trevor’s phone, dumbfounded. I don’t understand why he went to a urologist without telling me. We talked about things. At least, I thought we did.

I dial the number and wait for someone to answer.

“Westbrook Urology,” a female voice chirps.

“Hello, I’m Tessa Salinger. My husband, Trevor, was a patient of Dr. Hunt’s. Someone named Tracy called and left a message to call the office.”

“If you’ll hold for just a minute, I’ll see if Tracy is available.”

She places me on hold, and I listen to awful elevator music until she picks up again.

“Mrs. Salinger, if you’ll hold the line, Tracy will be right with you.”

“Thank you.” I chew my fingernail while I wait.

“Hello, Mrs. Salinger. This is Tracy, Dr. Hunt’s nurse. How can I help you?”

“Yes, well…I was wondering if you could tell me why Trevor was seeing Dr. Hunt.”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss a patient’s medical information.”

“I understand, but Trevor was killed a little over four months ago, and I just discovered your message today. You can’t just tell me what he was being seen for?”

“I’m so sorry for your loss. Let me see if you’re on his release form, okay? Can you hold for me?”

“Of course. Thank you so much.”

A few minutes later, Tracy comes back on the line. “Mrs. Salinger, I’m not sure how to say this, but you’re not listed as someone we can share Trevor’s medical information with.”

“There must be some mistake.” How am I not listed? “I’m his wife.”

“I really am sorry. You could speak with an attorney, but my hands are tied. Even if you were on the list, you’d need to come in person and show a form of identification.”

“Thank you. I’ll be in touch,” I say and hang up the phone.

This doesn’t make any sense. Not only can I not figure out why he was seeing a urologist, but I also don’t understand why he didn’t want me to know.

Maybe Dante knows something. Instead of meeting him at the deli down from S&S, I decide to leave early and meet him at the office. I throw on the dress I discarded on the bed earlier and run a brush through my hair. After I dab on enough makeup to be presentable, I grab the rest of my stuff and head out the door to drive to Dante’s office.

Katie is on the phone when I walk in. I wave as I walk past her, on my way to Dante’s office.

I knock lightly on his office door. “Dante?”

“Come in.”

“Hey, do you have a minute?”

Dante looks up from his computer, and a grin spreads over his face. “I have as much time as you need.”

He stands and walks toward me. When he’s within arm’s reach, he tugs me into an embrace. We stand there, holding each other for several minutes.

“I’ve missed you, Tessa.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

He puts an inch or two between us and tilts my face to look at him. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” The magnetic pull of his lips is hard to deny, so I lean in and kiss him. When he tries to take the kiss deeper, I step back. “We need to talk.” I settle into the chair in front of his desk.

Worry lines etch his forehead. “What’s going on?”

I wait for Dante to sit before filling him in on everything— the trust, Kyndal’s phone call, and the message from the urologist.

Dante quizzically looks at me. “You don’t know why he was seeing a urologist?”

“No. When I talked to my gynecologist, he said it was normal for healthy couples to take up to a year to get pregnant. We had no reason for concern, so it didn’t make sense to run any tests. I don’t even know if that’s why he was going.”

“Tessa…I’m not convinced the kid belongs to Trevor. I didn’t tell you because you’d have jumped to the conclusion that I was somehow defending what he did.”

“You should’ve said something.”

“I wish you’d talked to me first before you set up the trust,” he tells me.

I immediately feel the need to defend my decision. “First, it’s the right thing to do, and at the time, I had no reason to think Brandon wasn’t his. Second, I’m not sure why I would’ve talked to you because it isn’t any of your business.” There’s an edge to my tone, but Dante is crossing a line.

Dante leans forward, his elbows on the desk and his jaw set hard, but he doesn’t say anything.

I soften my tone. “If you’d shared your doubts a few days ago, I’d have thought you were crazy. I found pictures of Brandon in Trevor’s office, and they favor each other.” I look to the ceiling and let out a sigh. “I’ll admit, now, I’m suspicious, especially after finding out Trevor was sending her twenty grand a month for child support. I don’t know much about that sort of thing, but it seems ludicrous. It’s pretty difficult to fake a paternity test though, Dante.”

“What’s the name of the urologist’s office?”

“Westbrook Urology.”

“Hang on. I have an idea.” He pulls out his cell, dials a number, and then sits back in his chair. “Hi, Madison. It’s Dante Salinger.” His voice is smooth and deep. “I need a favor.”

He listens to her response, and whatever she says must be funny because he laughs. Dante explains that he needs her to look into Trevor’s medical records.

I listen intently to their conversation. Dante doesn’t flirt with her in the least; he’s friendly though.

When Dante gets off the phone, his eyes meet mine. “Madison Parker is an old friend, and she’s also a partner at Westbrook,” he offers in explanation.

From the inflection of his tone, I realize the type of friend she was.

“Ah, I see.”

“She was a medical resident and too busy for a relationship.”

“Dante, there’s no need to explain yourself.” I’m not upset. I have no right to be. At the time, I was married to Trevor, and I’m aware of Dante’s man-whore status. “Can Madison help us?”

“She agreed to look at his records and get back to me.”

“I don’t understand why Trevor kept something like this from me. Every time I think there can’t possibly be any more secrets, I stumble across something else.”

“We’ll sort it out. Madison said she’d call me in a day or two.” Dante gets up and comes around the desk. He stands in front of me and leans against the dark wood.

“Dante, why do you think the baby isn’t Trevor’s?” I realize he never told me.

“I’m hungry. How about we go to lunch, and I’ll fill you in?”

“Okay, sure.”

“Great. Let me finish up here, and then we’ll go,” he says, standing.

“I’m going to go catch up with Katie. I’ll wait for you in the lobby.”

Dante reaches for my hand and pulls me to my feet. “I won’t be long.” He drops a chaste kiss to my lips.

“No rush.” I let go of his hand and leave to see Katie.

Surprisingly, there isn’t a crowd at the deli when we arrive. After we place our order, we find a quiet table in the corner near one of the large windows. I pick at my salad and wait for Dante to tell me why he has doubts, but he’s preoccupied with his roast beef sandwich.

When he notices I’ve barely touched my food, he points to my plate and says, “Eat.”

I take a few bites to appease him. “There. Now, tell me what you think is going on.”

Dante spends the next several minutes telling me about Mabel and their conversation. “What if Trevor had doubts about the validity of the paternity test?”

Skeptically, I raise an eyebrow, but he doesn’t give me a chance to interject.

“I’m not sure how old the kid is, but what if she was sleeping with Winston Scott around the same time she slept with Trevor?”

“That’s quite a theory.”

But, somewhere in the back of my head, I wonder if he’s right. And, if he is, how the hell can we prove it?