David puts his finger to his lips, shushing me. He’s on the phone. A man’s voice booms over the car’s speakers. “Again. Great job, David. I’ll see you in Cabo and we’ll celebrate. Bye for now.”

I roll my eyes and climb in. We’ve sunk to a new low. He cannot actually believe I’d put up with them taking a Cabo trip, does he? After he told me no last year? After all of his lies?

“Sorry. Just wrapping up a business call.” David drives off. It’s three minutes to the beach from our house by golf cart, one minute by car.

“When are we going to Cabo?” I smile. I will draw the line at beach trips with others.

David looks confused for a moment but realizes I overheard the end of his conversation. “Oh, well, I’m not going. It’s to celebrate the big deal closing. I was just humoring him. And why are we talking about Cabo, today of all days? We’re driving to a memorial for our daughter. Your wires are all crossed, Jane.” He shakes his head but I note the flush in his cheeks.

He slipped not finishing the call before I slid into the passenger seat. He knows I’ve caught him. I’m sure he’s dreaming of that trip to Cabo—I know my husband. I want to challenge him further, but it isn’t the right time.

What else has he hidden from me these last twenty years? In silence we pass by the community clubhouse, the tennis courts, the park and zip through the tunnel underneath Coast Highway. Oh crap. I feel a panic attack coming on, a real one. I realize I’m holding my breath. I feel dizzy, it’s hard to breathe. I open my purse and press my face into it, breathing slowly.

“Should I pull over?” David exhales at the question. Frustration? Embarrassment? Who knows? “Take you back home?”

“No.” I tell myself to breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. I focus not on the ocean, but the green wooden benches lining the edge of the sand. I know the cause of this attack. It’s not the memorial service for Mary. It’s the man sitting next to me. His lies never stop. I wish I’d taken a pill, just one, to dull all of this nonsense, to avoid looking at him. Too late.