Page 42 of The Housemaid Is Watching

“We arenotdoing that, Enzo.”

“Why not?”

I throw up my hands. “You seriously need to ask me that question? You know how I feel about tiny enclosed spaces.”

He knows. He knows everything I’ve been through in the past and how I’ve been locked in a place like that, which I could not escape. Something like that gives you permanent claustrophobia.

This would be a good time for him to drop it, especially if he’s worried about my blood pressure. But for reasons I don’t understand, he doesn’t shut up.

“We could fix it up,” he insists. “Suzette says that?—”

“Oh? What doesSuzettesay? Please tell me everythingSuzettethinks.”

He presses his lips together. “You know she is a real estate agent. This is what she does. She is offering her expertise.”

“You know,” I say, “maybe you would make more money if you spent more timeworkingand less time in her yard.”

“I am only in her yard a little bit.”

“You’re always there!” I burst out. “In the middle of the night, no less!”

I hadn’t yet confronted him about finding him in Suzette’s yard at ten at night, and there’s no time like the present, especially when I’m already angry.

He blinks at me. “I do not know what you are talking about.”

“A few weeks ago, I saw you on Suzette’s lawn talking to her while I was putting the kids to bed,” I say. “What were you doing there?”

“I do not remember.” He truly looks like he means it. It’s very tempting to believe him. “She had some question. I think… she wanted a rose bush.”

“Atten at night?”

He shrugs. “Is not so late.”

Maybe not for him, when he’s up until all hours of the night.

“Look,” he says. “This is not about Suzette. It wasmyidea to convert the room. I thought the extra space would be nice.”

“Extra space?” I burst out. “Enzo, the last place we lived was a two-bedroom apartment in the Bronx. This place still feels like a palace to me.”

“It’s just… it is a lot smaller than Suzette and Jonathan’s house.” He frowns. “You do not want that extra room?”

“I never want to go inside that room again.” I shudder at the thought of it. “And I thought you, of all people, knew me well enough that you wouldn’t even ask. If you want to do something with that room, you can buy some new wallpaper and seal it up so that I never have to look at it again. Okay?”

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then he shuts it again. He does know me well enough to know I’m not going to budge on this. But at the same time, I can tell he still wants it. He wants to turn that tiny terrible room into some sort of playroom or office.

“Okay,” he says. “We discuss it later.”

Or never.

TWENTY-FOUR

When I get home from work the next day, the whole house smells like glue. It’s not pleasant.

“Enzo?” I call out.

I’m pretty sure he’s home. Once again, I saw his truck parked outside the house. But maybe he’s at Suzette’s again. Maybe he’s hidden in some passageway behind the wall where I’ll never find him. After yesterday, I have no idea what to expect.

“Am here!” he miraculously calls back.