by Robyn Carr
Maybe she should have worried sooner. Now she didn’t know what to do. She had asked him about other women and he’d said, “Don’t be ridiculous.” That wasn’t a real answer, was it? Should she get a detective? It was a thought. She didn’t know what she would do, how she would live. What would the girls say? Do? Would Scott try to take them from her? They adored him. Would they want to be with her, when she worked sixty-hour weeks?
At first she thought she couldn’t let him leave. She didn’t know how she’d get by. It never once occurred to her that her life might be slightly less tense without him constantly keeping score on her hours and familial contributions.
Now that she thought about it, Scott had always been a lot of emotional work. It wasn’t easy trying to get a law degree while making sure she was always a good wife. True, she couldn’t do all the wifely chores and work as an attorney, but a good balance was that she made enough money for a weekly cleaning lady. What she did do was never mention she was the breadwinner, never minimize his contributions. She took time to praise his every effort, compliment his mind and frequently mention how stimulating she found him, scream with joy during mediocre sex. It wasn’t until he said he no longer loved her that she realized the enormous emotional weight of that effort.
Scott ran the house and made sure the girls got to school and every extracurricular activity, lesson or practice. Now that Amber was driving, he had even more free time. It took him roughly two hours a day to do his chores—she still did the laundry, stopped for groceries on the way home, cleaned the kitchen after dinner. The hours left over—some six or more a day—he could devote to biking, kayaking, working out, running, hiking, swimming or various sports training. He was a member of two bowling leagues and one baseball team. He watched hours of sports on TV, most of it recorded for later. He worked part-time at the sporting goods outlet off and on, never more than twenty hours in a week.
How dare he not love me, she thought angrily. If anything, I shouldn’t love him!
* * *
There was a time Adele was an adventurous soul, like back in college and grad school. But for the past six to eight years, she’d done little driving, staying close to home, rarely leaving Half Moon Bay.
This was an old town, originally called Spanishtown and settled before the gold rush, officially becoming Half Moon Bay in the late 1800s. The history of the town was carefully preserved. It was a sweet town on the ocean that attracted tourists. This part of San Mateo County was known for farming of vegetables and flowers, surfing and other water sports, a quaint and quiet getaway filled with and surrounded by beautiful state parks, redwoods and wonderful beaches. It got its name from the crescent-shaped harbor just north of the city.
Addie thought of it as calm, sometimes too calm. Maybe a little old-fashioned and stifling. When she was young, she couldn’t wait to knock the dust from that little old town off her shoes, to get out and enjoy the freedom of college in a bigger city. Now that she’d been held hostage there for eight years, she was nearly phobic about leaving.
But leave she would, if only for the day. She wasn’t going to let Justine down, even though it appeared Justine would let her down. They might not be the closest of sisters but if Adele had one shining trait, she was fiercely loyal. She thought she was more loyal to Justine than Justine was to her, but that was okay. She believed that what goes around comes around and she’d invest now, hope for good things to follow.
Plus there was Amber and Olivia, and Addie loved them.
Adele called Justine first thing in the morning. “I know we just talked yesterday but I need to see you, in person, alone, as soon as possible. I’ll drive to San Jose if necessary, but it would be better if you came here. I don’t want to try to talk to you with the girls or Scott around. It’s a very private matter.”
“What’s bothering you, Addie?” Justine asked.
Of course Justine would think it was Adele who had the problem, that it was something she was embarrassed to share or have anyone overhear. “We have to talk. It’s urgent. Please decide where we should do it.”
Justine sighed into the phone. It was clear she couldn’t imagine Addie having a truly urgent issue of any kind.
“I have a lot to do today. Are you sure this can’t wait?”
“I’m afraid it can’t. Do you want to meet somewhere or what?”
“Can you come to me? Scott’s playing golf and won’t be home until after two. Amber and Olivia are both busy with friends, and I expect they’ll be gone all day. If you come to me, at least I can get a few things done in the time I would have spent driving.”
“Okay,” Adele said in a shaky breath. She hated the freeway. And left turns. And other cars. She hadn’t driven to San Jose, forty miles away, in years and she recalled it as traumatic. In fact, she hadn’t driven out of Half Moon Bay in a couple of years. She was used to getting teased about it.
“Wow,” Justine said. “This must be important.”
“It is.”
Adele thought about the one time Justine had really come through for her—when she was brokenhearted, pregnant and alone. Justine was supportive and nonjudgmental.
“These things happen, kiddo,” she’d said. “But you’re doing the right thing. Adoption is a good option.”
“If I can make myself go through with it,” Adele had said. “I feel him moving and I want to hold him.”
“Of course you do. And women do raise their children without fathers all the time. But if you’re serious about that, there are legal ways to make the father responsible. He can pay support. Just think about it. I can help.”
But that option had been taken away from her when the baby didn’t survive. It was Justine who showered her with sympathy, paid for the mortuary and cemetery costs, held her while she cried and encouraged her to grieve, get counseling and try to move on. For that compassion, Adele would be forever grateful.
She did love and admire Justine. She was also quite jealous, an emotion she fought constantly. It was just that until she saw Scott misbehaving, she thought Justine had everything, beautiful home, perfect daughters, happy marriage, great career. She had been so lost in thought that she was almost surprised when she pulled up to her older sister’s house. She had managed the drive without incident.
She looked up and admired the place. It wasn’t an estate or anything, but it was so much larger than the house they grew up in, plus it was relatively new—about fifteen years old. The kitchen was spacious, the great room was grand and welcoming and overlooked a small but beautiful pool and meticulously groomed yard. There were five bedrooms and as many baths, and the third port in the garage was stacked with sporting gear—skis, paddleboards, kayaks, golf clubs, et cetera. Justine and the girls also had skis and bikes and paddleboards, but the gear was by and large Scott’s.
Now she wasn’t sure what Justine was up against. Did Justine know her husband was unfaithful?
Justine opened the front door to greet her with a frown. “Oh jeez, you’re pale. Come in. You know, now that you’re officially off the caretaking job, you might want to broaden your territory. Do more driving, go farther, get your confidence back, put yourself out there.”
“I will,” Adele said, as she had been saying to herself for more than a couple of months.
“Let’s go sit on the patio,” Justine said. “I made a fresh pot of coffee and I have some cookies.”
“I was going to give up cookies,” Adele said. “Maybe I’ll start tomorrow.”
Adele sat at the patio table and let Justine serve the coffee, which seemed like the last thing she needed. She was jittery enough, and not from the drive on the crowded California freeway. Even on Sunday morning it was like bumper cars, but she’d managed it just fine.
“You going to spit it out?” Justine asked. “So we can spend what time we have figuring it out, whatever it is?”
“Scott is cheating
on you,” Addie blurted. “I saw him.”
Justine jerked in dubious surprise, her chin lowering as did her brow. She frowned. “You saw him having sex?”
“No. I—”
“You’d better be specific. And very sure of what you’re saying because this is serious.”
“Oh, I know it is. I went for a pizza with Jake Bronski last night. Maggio’s. Do you even remember it?”
Justine nodded gravely.
“Eight booths in the dining room. We went in the back door because Jake knows everyone there. We had just gotten a glass of wine when I noticed the couple two booths ahead and to the left. They were sitting side by side facing the front, maybe watching the front entry. They probably thought they were alone since we snuck in the back. They were kissing. Kissing like they couldn’t stop. Like they really needed a room.”
Justine was quiet for a long moment. “Kissing?”
“Powerful, desperate, crazy kissing. Like in the movies kissing. Mouths open, devour—”
Justine held up a hand to stop her. “Was there any evidence of an affair? Or was it just kissing?”
“Seriously? Just?” Addie laughed, though not in humor. “I never thought to follow them. You have a provision for movie-star kissing in the marriage contract?”
“Okay, thanks for telling me,” Justine said, as if she couldn’t bear to hear any more. “I can take it from here. And if you think of anything else...”
“I know who she is. Well, Jake knows who she is. The woman who owns that kayak rental shack near the ocean, down the bike path past the beach bar. Her name is Cat Brooks. She’s not very pretty.”
Justine seemed to wince ever so slightly. “Thanks.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. But I know how this will turn out. Scott is caught kissing outside of our marriage and we’re going to fight about it, quietly so the girls don’t hear, then he’s going to grovel, beg for forgiveness, make a lot of promises about his perfect future behavior, then things will be tense for a while and he’ll invest a lot in flowers and maybe a little jewelry and then it will be over. It will pass.”
“It sounds like you’ve been down this road before...”
“Except for the getting caught part. He’s never been caught before, but we’ve had the discussion...”
“Why? He must have done something if you talked about it?”
“There were a few times I wondered if he was lying to me about where he’d been. You know—the timing was just off or his story would change. And he couldn’t be reached... Didn’t answer his phone. There was some texting with this woman or that—but I didn’t see anything real damning. Still... It’s not like I have a lot of time to chase him around, but if the girls can’t reach him and call me... Don’t worry about this. We’ll get it straightened out.”
“Do you think he’s having an affair?” Addie asked, grabbing one of the cookies and taking a big bite.
“I suppose it’s possible, but honestly I doubt it. Scott is very critical of men who step out on their wives. But believe me, I’ll conduct a thorough interview. It’s one of my particular skills.” Then she smiled. Weakly.
“Where was he supposed to be last night?”
“A bowling tournament. He’s in two leagues. I guess there’s been some lying. I will find out how much.”
Adele wasn’t buying that smile. “You can talk to me, you know.”
“Thank you, honey. That’s very sweet. I’m sure we’ll work this out quickly. And I won’t tell him where I got the information.”
Justine spoke as if Adele couldn’t possibly be experienced enough to help her through this, to be a confidante.
“I suspect he was in Half Moon Bay because she lives there and he never thought he’d see me,” Adele said. “I hardly leave the house.”
“You’re going to have to change that, Addie. It’s not good for you.”
“Yeah,” she said, noting how quickly the subject changed to her. “I’ll get right on that.”
Chapter Three
There was a vase containing a cheerful spring bouquet sitting on the breakfast bar. Scott had given it to Justine two days ago, a day after their weekly counseling session. “For you, Juss,” he said. “I’m a very lucky man. I will always love you.”
Had he told her about the flowers? About the declaration of love? Because according to Adele, who couldn’t lie if her life depended on it, he’d been devouring the lips of another woman the next day, last night. Some woman named Cat Brooks who owned a kayak rental shack.
How was this possible? Justine had practically grown up with Scott. They’d met during their freshman year at Berkeley when they were mere children, just beginning to make their way into a future. They dated, fell in love, broke up a couple of times, but always came back to each other. By the time they were sophomores, they were exclusive. Right after graduation, they got engaged, though neither of them had two nickels to rub together. College costs, loans, very little help from their parents and only low-paying part-time jobs between them did not leave enough money for a wedding. The diamond in Justine’s engagement ring could barely be seen with the naked eye, it was so small.
They lived together while they were in pursuit of decent jobs. Justine began teaching as a substitute, but before a year passed she’d acquired a permanent post teaching high school algebra. It took Scott longer to land a job in sales with a sporting goods manufacturer, but it seemed a good fit for someone as gregarious as Scott. By the time they were twenty-four, they could afford a modest but classy wedding with Adele as their flower girl.
At twenty-five Justine took the LSAT. She did better than just very well; she scored at the highest end of the scale. She’d always been a good test taker. Her biggest cheerleader was Scott. At twenty-six she began law school at Stanford, this not quite middle class janitor’s daughter from Half Moon Bay. And she graduated from Stanford with honors. Scott had been so proud of her. But he also said he’d expected it.
When had he stopped being proud of her?
Through the years, through law school and two difficult pregnancies and a high-stress job in the legal department for a major software manufacturer, she’d always thought she and Scott were happy together. She was with her company through their first public offering, a killer project that yielded a handsome bonus and a big pile of stock options, setting her and Scott up for a tidy investment portfolio. From the time her little girls were four and five until now, even with the industry’s ups and downs, she’d managed an excellent income.
And Scott had claimed to be a very satisfied house husband.
Now, after all of that, he was saying she hadn’t been emotionally available?
Scott did contribute to the family income with a little part-time work on and off for the last seventeen years, but the days of his pursuit of a career ended with Amber’s birth. “Me working will just put us in a higher tax bracket. I’m better off staying home and saving the cost of childcare,” he had said.
It had seemed like a fair balance. Scott managed the money, the investments, the retirement accounts, the bills.
“I have to look at those accounts,” Justine said to herself. The one thing she would never advise a woman to do, she had done. It was out of sheer want of time—she couldn’t do it all. And now she had no idea what their true financial situation was. She had three credit cards, never worried about their balances, never wrote a check, never paid a bill. She earned the money, tried to be an attentive wife and mother, worked her ass off and had looked forward to a future of less stress and more fun.
Justine was fifty-two and had been with Scott since she was eighteen. And now he had another woman on the side. What would she do without him? They had always functioned as a team. She couldn’t do her work and his work too! And although she had no problem being alone, she couldn’t imagine having no partner. She
thought she and Scott would grow old together, but now she would be alone forever. She didn’t think that due to low self-esteem or lack of confidence, but when the hell would she find the time to even consider a new companion?
Scott, on the other hand, had nothing but time to screw around. He didn’t have the pressure of bringing home a paycheck, for starters. His parents were healthy and strong and didn’t need him for anything but the occasional visit, and they usually provided a dinner or picnic if Scott and his family planned to stop by.
Justine had had years of supporting ill parents and her younger sister, who shouldered all the care. The younger sister she had promised to reward for the commitment she’d made to care for their parents. Now she didn’t even know what she would end up with for herself and her daughters.
She looked at the flowers. Was her life really this cliché? That he would cheat on her and then bring her flowers? To what end? To forgive him? To keep her from looking further into their problems where she would discover his lover? Did he in fact love that other woman?
Suddenly her arm shot out and swiped the vase and flowers off the counter, sending the container sailing across the kitchen and crashing against the cabinets. The flowers lay in the mess of shattered glass and dirty water on the floor.
She shook her head as she looked at the mess. It would not hurt Scott in any way, and now she would have to clean it up. At that moment she made a decision. From now on she would move with more precision and not do things that would only make her work harder. She would have to check her rage lest she make the situation worse for herself.
But she wasn’t going to take this sitting down.
* * *