The Baker's Wife by Erin Healy

Jack and Julie, which didn’t surprise Audrey at all. But then he added this Diane Hall to his list, and that caught her off guard. Still, Geoff often saw things she missed. He prayed for less than a minute, but by the time he finished, some of Audrey’s urgent need to keep the world in perfect order had subsided.
    They pulled away from each other. “Maybe I should go over to Julie’s house, see if she’s there,” Audrey said. They walked down the hall.
    â€œI’m sure Jack is taking care of all that,” he said.
    â€œI’ll call her then. Borrow your phone? Mine’s still out in the car.”
    â€œDo you know her number? Because I don’t.”
    â€œMaybe Ed knows it.” They pushed out the door into the dining room.
    â€œHave times changed that much? Because when I was nineteen, I didn’t give a rip about my ex-girlfriends’ mothers’ phone numbers.”
    â€œThat’s because no one had cell phones back then.”
    Ed was standing in the arched entry to the kitchen, staring out through the front windows toward the gray morning light like a sleepwalker. Audrey rounded the back of the counter and went to him. “Ed, do you know Julie’s phone number?”
    He blinked. “What?”
    â€œJulie Mansfield’s phone number. Do you know it?”
    â€œAudrey, it’s really not a good idea to call,” Geoff said.
    â€œIt will give me peace of mind, her being okay. And I need to apologize for the bike. She should hear it from me rather than Jack, wouldn’t you say?”
    â€œIt’s not great timing. You two aren’t close. Jack is eyeing you for whatever he’s going to call this crime. And Ed doesn’t know the number.”
    â€œActually, it’s only one digit off Miralee’s,” Ed said, his tone flat. “I guess it’s how their family plan worked out.”
    â€œThere. See?” Audrey reached for the old phone mounted on the kitchen wall just inside the archway. “Tell me.”
    Ed recited the number.
    â€œDo you think she’ll be more upset that someone stole it,” Audrey asked Geoff, “or that I demolished it?”
    Behind her Estrella opened an oven door and slid a baking sheet onto the rack. In the dining room a phone rang. The ring tone was particular and unfamiliar, something rhythmic and international, like African drums.
    â€œJust be careful what you say,” Geoff advised. “What if the rider was someone she knows?”
    She hadn’t thought of that. She clicked off the phone to ponder Geoff’s wisdom. The ringing in the bakery cut off mid-tone. It seemed to be coming from Diane’s backpack, but if it was, the woman was ignoring her call, staring out the viewless window.
    Audrey decided that chances were slim Julie would answer her phone at this hour. Also, if Jack hadn’t been able to reach her, Audrey could start to patch things up by leaving a message rather than putting Julie on the spot. Waiting to address matters like this never panned out well. At least, it had ended very badly the last time they put it off.
    â€œI’ll just leave something on her voice mail,” she told Geoff as she hit the redial button.
    Geoff was staring into the dining room, focused on Diane and her untouched baguette. Audrey’s call connected.
    Diane’s backpack started ringing again. Audrey felt an unpleasant flash of heat pass through her stomach. The ringing ended and a recording began. Julie’s voice came over the line, and the African drums in the pack ceased their beating.
    In that moment, Audrey couldn’t think of what she wanted to say to Julie. She hung up and raised her voice. “Is that your phone?”
    Diane gasped and turned from the window, one hand on her heart.
    Audrey tried not to sound accusatory. “Is that your phone ringing? In your bag?” She pointed to the backpack as she came out of the kitchen, around