Big Girls Don't Cry. Brenda Novak

wanted to be with them. Usually she enjoyed going to the country club, especially when Keith was home. They played doubles as often as possible. But she wasn’t in the mood to be here right now. It wasn’t easy having Keith and Isaac leave on the same day. Their departures allowed the loneliness that sometimes plagued her to move closer.

      Holding her racquet between her legs, she adjusted the ribbon that gathered her thick blond hair into a ponytail and attempted to shrug off her melancholy mood by telling herself the exercise would be good for her. Keith had given her these lessons for her thirtieth birthday two months ago and expected her to take them. She could do that much. He loved that she could beat almost any woman she played, even most men, and didn’t want her to lose any of her ability.

      He didn’t want her to lose her figure, either. Which was probably why he insisted that they were finished having children, even though Liz would have liked one more.

      She winced at the memory of the comment he’d made when they were making love the other night. “Wow, babe, what are you eating when I’m gone? Feels like you’re putting on a few pounds.”

      He was right, of course. She was comfort eating, trying to help pass the long evenings when he was away. But it wasn’t as though she’d turned into a blimp.

      Throwing the ball into the air, she smacked it hard and watched it rocket to the other side of the court. It landed right in the corner, almost on the line. A perfect serve.

      “Looking good.”

      Dave Shapiro, the club pro, had finally deigned to show up for her lesson. But, from the way he was watching her, she couldn’t tell if he was referring to her serve or her legs.

      “You’re late,” she said.

      As usual, her attempt to redirect his interest did little good. “I’m worth the wait.”

      She adjusted her visor as he swaggered over—and stiffened when he stood behind her, lifting her arm in the motion of her serve.

      “You were holding your wrist like this, see?” He made a point of having her look up. “That’s exactly the way I want you to hold it. Every time.”

      He was a little too close. Liz could feel his body’s heat, despite the cool November air, and remembered some of the suggestive things he’d said to her in the past. She knew, if she gave him any encouragement, he’d flirt even more.

      But she’d never get seriously involved with him. No matter how handsome he was. No matter how badly she needed to feel desirable. After going through some of the most difficult years of her life without a mother, she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her own small family.

      “You’re a beautiful woman, you know that?” he said.

      “And you’re about seven years too young for me,” she replied, smiling because he was so obvious.

      He shrugged. “That isn’t the reason you’re not interested.”

      Maybe Dave was cocky, but she appreciated how honest and direct he could be. “Not exclusively, no.”

      He hesitated for a moment, his attention roving over her short skirt. “Your husband’s a lucky man.”

      “Commitment’s an important part of loving someone, don’t you think?” she said, and served again. Too long.

      When his eyes finally met hers, his grin spread up one side, making him appear even more boyish than usual. “I think your husband’s gone too often. It isn’t wise to leave a wife alone so much.”

      “He trusts me,” she said simply.

      Dave cocked an eyebrow at her. “Do you trust him?”

      “Of course.”

      “You don’t think he’s ever visited a bar or a strip club and wound up in someone else’s bed?”

      To be honest, she had considered that possibility. Her husband retrieved his voice mail and his e-mails when he was away, and responded if she needed him. But he never answered his cell phone during those long absences and rarely bothered to call her. She often wondered what he did when he had some spare time. Especially on holidays. At least once a year, he missed a major holiday because a network went down somewhere in the company. Did some of the other guys ever take him out for a drink? Or to a party?

      She couldn’t picture it. He said most of the guys at work were jerks and he refused to socialize with them. He wouldn’t even attend the annual Christmas party. When she asked him how he spent his evening hours, he denied having any fun at all. “I try to get as much done as possible while I’m gone so I can be more available to you and the kids when I’m home,” he said. And he made it easy for her to believe him. Although he worked while he was home—quite a bit, actually—he was completely devoted to her and the kids. She’d never seen him so much as look at another woman.

      So rather than become an insecure nag, she’d chosen to trust him.

      “He’s a workaholic, which keeps him pretty busy,” she said. “And he loves our kids as much as I do.”

      Dave reached down to retrieve a stray ball. “Maybe you’re as lucky as he is. But if I were a gambler, I wouldn’t bet on it.”

      “You barely know him!” she said.

      “He’s a man, isn’t he?”

      “That’s pretty cynical, not to mention sexist,” she accused, slugging him halfheartedly in the arm. “Anyway, you’re wrong.”

      “How do you know?” he asked.

      She claimed the ball and served again. “Because I know my husband.”

      AT THE AIRPORT, Isaac sat in a row of chairs one gate away from Keith. Other passengers crowded into the space between them, occasionally obstructing his view, but Isaac didn’t move any closer. He didn’t want his brother-in-law to know he was being watched, even though, from what Isaac could tell, he didn’t appear to be particularly concerned about those around him. He didn’t seem to be doing much of anything unusual—except going to the wrong city. According to the sign behind the desk, he was waiting for a flight that had been scheduled to leave for Boise, Idaho, this morning but had been delayed because of bad weather.

      Boise. Why in the world would Keith be going there? Isaac might have guessed that Softscape, Inc., the company Keith worked for, had decided to send him somewhere else at the last minute. But that call saying he’d arrived safely and was already enjoying the sunshine made no sense. A man didn’t play such an elaborate charade without a reason.

      What was Keith’s reason?

      Isaac glanced at his watch. He’d missed his own flight to Chicago more than thirty minutes ago, so that decision had already been made. He knew he might regret his actions—certainly Reginald hadn’t been happy to hear the news—but Isaac felt strongly about getting to the bottom of his brother-in-law’s mysterious behavior.

      In order to do that, he needed to follow Keith to Idaho. But if he took the same flight, he risked being seen.

      He considered making arrangements through another airline, but decided it would be too difficult to coordinate his arrival with Keith’s. He was afraid if he let Keith out of his sight for very long he’d lose him.

      Isaac contemplated several different scenarios before deciding that his best bet was to buy a first-class ticket on Keith’s flight. He’d board before all the other passengers, sit in the last row of coach and bury his nose in a newspaper. Unless the flight was packed, which he could already tell it wasn’t, he doubted anyone would even sit next to him. His brother-in-law would get on and most likely take a seat much farther toward the front. Then Isaac would follow him off the plane when it landed.

      The woman behind the counter was telling folks it’d be at least another hour before Keith’s flight could take off. Isaac had heard her say it half-a-dozen times, so he wasn’t concerned about being able