My daughter compared our gingerbread house to the “secret house Daddy takes me to every weekend,” and I chuckled until she mentioned a gorgeous lady with chocolates. A few days later, I found myself following my husband, despite the fact that I had never been a suspicious woman.
Last year, on a day around mid-December, I made a rare escape from the hospital and promised myself the evening belonged to Emma. She had been asking to decorate a gingerbread house for weeks.
I couldn’t say no.
My daughter was extremely excited when I got home early and unearthed the gingerbread house kit from the pantry.
“Mommy, can we make it really pretty? With gumdrops and frosting and sprinkles and cookies?” she asked, jumping in place as I started putting the contents of the box on the counter.
“Of course, sweetheart. We’ll use every candy in the house and more if we have to,” I replied, ruffling her hair.
After putting one last gumdrop on the roof, she stepped back to check out the house from all angles. “It’s so beautiful, Mommy. It’s like the secret house Daddy takes me to every weekend,” she said.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. What did you say?”
“The secret house,” she finally replied.
“You know, the one with the pretty lady who gives me candy and calls me ‘dear.’ She’s really nice.”
My heart skipped a beat. “The pretty lady?” I asked, as calmly as I could.
“Of course not, sweetheart,” I said with a forced smile. “Secrets are fun sometimes, right?”
Later that night, as Mark read Emma a bedtime story, I stood in our kitchen, replaying her words over and over. Was he… che:a:ting?
My stomach churned at the thought, and my mind leaped to every worst-case scenario.
When we went to bed, I pretended to fall asleep right away, though I knew resting would be impossible. I wanted to confront him, but what if Emma had misunderstood?
I never had any reason to doubt Mark. Yet what else could involve a pretty lady and a secret house?
“Hey, baby, are you che:ating on me?”
“I’ll probably be gone all day,” I added, hoping I was showing the right amount of concern for a fake patient.
Mark knew how long my surgeries could be, so he didn’t question me. He just gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “No worries, baby. I’ll keep Emma entertained.”
After closing the door behind me, I went to my car and drove it around the corner. There, I waited. Just ten minutes later, Mark came out of the house, leading Emma to his car.
I followed them at a distance, feeling my trembling hands on the steering wheel. Was I doing the right thing?
Finally, Mark turned into the driveway of a house that looked like it belonged on a Christmas card. It only made everything worse.
My daughter was right. It was similar to the gingerbread house.
My heart clenched.
She had soft brown hair that fell in loose waves around her shoulders and a smile that could light up any room. When Emma got close, she leaned down for a hug and handed her a candy cane.
Mark greeted her with a warm, knowing smile and went into the house.
But it didn’t matter. “Excuse me,” I called out, stomping up to the woman and my daughter.
“Mommy!” Emma squealed, pointing behind her. “Look! The house!”
The woman turned to me with a big, bright smile. “Oh, hello! You must be Eleanor.”
I stopped in front of them, breathless. “And you are?” I demanded.
“Lily,” she said, extending her hand.
“It’s so nice to meet you. I’m the contractor working on the house.”
“Contractor?” I echoed, wrinkling my nose.
“Yes,” she said, nodding. Then she frowned. “Wait, you didn’t know about this? Oh, dear.”
“I think the better question is, what are you doing here?” I snapped. “And why is our daughter calling this the ‘secret house’?”
Mark sighed and stepped closer. “I can explain.”
“You’d better,” I said, crossing my arms as Emma wrapped herself around my legs.
“Eleanor,” he sighed, “this isn’t what you think.”
“Really? Because it looks like you’re sneaking around with another woman and dragging our daughter into it!” My voice cracked despite my effort to stay calm.
Mark’s jaw tightened. “If you’d let me explain—”
“Then explain!” I interrupted, huffing.
“The house is for us, baby,” he confessed.
“I bought it with my inheritance from my dad. I’ve been working with Lily to renovate it as a surprise for you. Well, for us. Sheis a contractor.”
“You’re always exhausted from the commute and the hospital shifts. I thought if we lived closer to the hospital, you’d have more time at home. I also wanted it to be the perfect surprise, so I didn’t want you to know about it until it was ready.”
“You… you did this for me?” I felt stupid for even having to ask again.
“For us,” he corrected gently. “For you, me, and Emma. There’s a reading nook by the window, and Emma has her own playroom. The kitchen is a dream. Our master bathroom has two sinks…”
“Come on!” Emma urged from the front door. We laughed, following her inside to see our new place.
