The Stranger by Harlan Coben Page B

surprised. Everyone liked her.”
    He bit back the sarcastic rejoinder. Instead, he replaced it with an obvious observation. “I thought you were there for quiet and reading.”
    â€œI was. I mean, that’s how it started. But somewhere along the way, I started to cherish this social circle. I know it sounds pathetic, but I looked forward to seeing these people. And it was like they only existed in that time and space, you know? It’s like when you used to play pickup basketball. You loved those guys on the court, but you didn’t know a thing about them off it. One guy owned that restaurant we went to and you didn’t even know, remember?”
    â€œI remember, Corinne. But I don’t see the point.”
    â€œI’m just trying to explain. I made friends. People came in and out without warning. Like Jerry. One day, Jerry disappeared. We assumed he got a job, but it’s not like he came in and told us. He just stopped coming. Suzanne too. We figured that she had the baby. She was way overdue. And then sadly, when the new semester started, double lunch ended for me, and so I guess I faded away too. That’s how it worked. It was cyclical. The cast rotated.”
    He had no idea where she was going with this, but there was no reason to rush her either. In a way, he wanted things to slow down now. He wanted to consider all options. He glanced back over atthe kitchen table where Thomas and Ryan had just eaten and laughed and thought that they were secure.
    Corinne took a deep sip of her wine. To move it along, Adam asked, “Did you ever see any of them again?”
    Corinne almost smiled. “That’s the point of the story.”
    â€œWhat is?”
    â€œI saw Suzanne again. Maybe three months later.”
    â€œAt Bookends?”
    She shook her head. “No. It was a Starbucks in Ramsey.”
    â€œDid she have a boy or girl?”
    A sad smile toyed with Corinne’s lips. “Neither.”
    He didn’t know what to make of that or how to follow it up, so he simply said, “Oh.”
    Corinne met his eye. “She was pregnant.”
    â€œSuzanne was?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWhen you saw her at Starbucks?”
    â€œYes. Except it was only three months after I last saw her. And she still looked eight months pregnant.”
    Adam nodded, finally seeing where she was going. “Which is, of course, impossible.”
    â€œOf course.”
    â€œShe was faking.”
    â€œYes. See, I had to go to Ramsey to check out this new textbook. It was lunchtime again. Suzanne must have figured that there’d be no chance one of us from Bookends would be there. That Starbucks is, what, a fifteen-minute drive from Bookends?”
    â€œAt least.”
    â€œSo I was up at the counter ordering a latte and I heard thatvoice and there she was, sitting in the corner, telling a rapt group of patrons about her prenatal vitamin regimen.”
    â€œI don’t get it.”
    Corinne tilted her head. “Really?”
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œSure. I got it right away. Suzanne was holding court in the corner, and then I started walking toward her. When she spotted me, that glow just vanished. I mean, you can imagine. How do you explain being eight months pregnant for, like, what, half a year? I just stood there and waited. I think she hoped that I’d leave. But I didn’t. I was supposed to go to school, but later, I told them I got a flat tire. Kristin covered my classes for me.”
    â€œYou and Suzanne eventually talked?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd?”
    â€œShe said that she really lives in Nyack, New York.”
    That was about thirty minutes from both Bookends and that Starbucks, Adam figured.
    â€œShe told me a story about having a stillborn. I don’t think it’s true, but it could be. But in many ways, Suzanne’s story is simpler. Some women love being pregnant. Not because of the hormonal rush or because they