* * *
—
As Olivia waited outside Alison’s house, she looked in the mirror. Her eyes were unrecognizable—as if something inside of her had come unhinged. She needed to wrangle in the anger a bit. At least she had the presence of mind to call her sitter after hanging up with Alison. Lily did not need to be anywhere near her right now. She did her four-seven-eight breathing while Alison strapped Zach into Lily’s car seat.
“Do you want me to drive?” she asked.
Olivia could picture herself ramming her car through Eliza Hunt’s garage door, so she unsnapped her seatbelt and relinquished the wheel.
On the way there, Alison logically lectured her on how unlikely it was that her very young husband was having an affair with the middle-aged moderator of the Hudson Valley Ladies’ Bulletin Board, but Olivia wasn’t having it.
She got out of the car at the Hunts’ house and rang the doorbell incessantly.
“I think she heard you.”
Alison may have only known Olivia a short time, but one thing was clear to her: Olivia had lost it.
She looked Olivia in the eyes, trying to ground her. “Maybe she’s not home. Let’s go.”
Olivia ignored her and rang the bell some more with the added bonus of looking through the living room window and yelling, “I’m never going away!”
Even Alison was happy when Amanda showed up to help.
“What’s going on here, ladies?” she asked.
Olivia was convinced that Amanda’s presence was indicative of Eliza being at home. She continued her doorbell campaign. How much ringing could one woman endure? she wondered. Negotiations between Alison and Amanda began. Amanda assured Alison that there was no way Eliza was having an affair. Alison informed Amanda that there was no way Olivia was leaving without speaking to Eliza in person. Amanda made a phone call and then confronted Olivia.
“She will let us in if you promise to remain calm.”
“I promise,” Olivia mumbled.
Alison didn’t believe her. She pulled her aside.
“Olivia. If for some godforsaken reason your husband is having an affair with this woman—who I’d like to add is about twenty years older than you—doing something crazy to her will make you the villain here. Do you get that?”
“Yes,” she snapped.
The door opened. They all went inside. Olivia took one look at Eliza and realized she was being ridiculous. But why was Spencer coming to her house every day? She calmly, yet maniacally, asked for an explanation.
“Why is my husband coming here every morning?”
Amanda looked at Eliza and pleaded with her eyes for her to tell the truth. Eliza acquiesced.
“Can I see a picture of him?” Eliza asked.
Olivia pulled out her phone. Eliza studied it. She could tell it was him. Then Olivia pulled up the Map My Run evidence and showed it to them both. There was nothing left to do but tell her the truth.
“I’m sorry, but I think your husband is having an affair with my new neighbor. A man who looks like him visits her every morning after her husband leaves for work.”
“Which side?” she asked, ready to rumble. Alison stopped her.
“What are you going to do, go next door and beat her up? She probably won’t even answer the door for you, and then again you won’t have proof. He can just say he runs with her and thought you wouldn’t be cool with it.”
“She’s right,” Amanda said. “It’s not enough.”
“I just want to look at her. I want to see her face.”
Mandy whispered to Eliza, who reluctantly agreed. “We can sometimes see her from my upstairs window, if she’s home. She doesn’t sit around all day,” she said, as if doing so was pathetic. When she heard her own words, they stung.
As they climbed the stairs and set up a stakeout of sorts at Eliza’s desk, Olivia suddenly felt overwhelmingly awkward about their intrusion. She had no idea that Eliza spent most days alone and was actually thankful for the company.
“I’m sorry to put you in the middle of all this,” Olivia said. Eliza was filled with guilt; she knew that she had put herself in the middle of all of this.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you more when you came last time. I was honest when I said that someone made up the post. But I didn’t mention that that someone was me.”
“I don’t understand. Why would you do that?”
Olivia looked so betrayed when she asked the question. It made Eliza feel awful. She did her best to justify her behavior, though she doubted her company would understand.
“I heard about this younger and hipper group called Valley Girls. I was trying to keep up with them—be more relevant—give the people what they want. I’m so sorry. This all spun out of control.”
Alison chimed in, with the intention of taking Eliza out of the hot seat. She was unsure about the stability of the witness and wanted to keep her from being on the defensive.
“I went on the Valley Girls site once. Besides the fact that I didn’t find it helpful in any way, I couldn’t relate at all. The women seemed like a bunch of phonies. I know I’m not married, but I can’t believe these exercise-obsessed women with their perfect one-point-eight kids are having that much sex. I’m not buying it.”
“I thought the average was two-point-three children?” Olivia moaned. “I wanted to have three. Now I will probably just have the one.”
“That’s not true,” Mandy piped up. “You have your whole life ahead of you.”
Alison redirected the conversation. “I understand why you got competitive, Eliza. I don’t blame you. But what happened next?”
“I saw her husband visiting Ashley Smith and I dreamed up the affair in my head.”
Olivia looked like someone had punched her in the gut. Her heart sank to her stomach and the room began to shift.
“Did you say Ashley Smith? Ashley and Jim or John or something-with-a-J Smith?”
“Joe, yes. Why?”
They all held their breath.
Shock, betrayal, grief, and pain fired at her from all directions.
“Where’s the bathroom?” It was clear she was going to vomit. She made it just in time, locking the door behind her. The three women stood outside the door trading sympathetic looks. Little Zachary cooed and kicked his legs in the BabyBjörn that Alison had thrown him in so as to have her hands free, or possibly her fists.
“How are you doing in there, honey?” Eliza asked, to no reply.
They heard some stirring inside and the sound of running water stopped. Alison took a shot: “Come on out, Olivia.”
She came out and slid down the wall to the floor while the three of them looked on. She explained in a tired, heartbroken voice, “Around eight months ago Spencer and I were out for dinner in the city. A couple that he knew passed by our table. Well, he knew her, but I can’t even remember if he said where from. He asked them to join us. She said no, but he insisted, and the husband eagerly gave in to the idea. She seemed nervous the whole time, really uncomfortable, while her husband seemed really friendly and nice. I remember feeling bad for her, trying to ask her questions to warm her up. It seemed to make things more awkward. And then, in the end, the baby was doing crazy flips. You know, the kind that makes one whole side of your stomach rise and fall like an alien. Spencer noticed me holding my belly, feeling her move around. He turned to Ashley and said, ‘Do you want to feel my baby?’ I remember thinking that it was such a weird way to put it, ‘my baby,’ and even weirder that he was pimping out my stomach for this woman to feel.”
At this point in the story, the three women were glued to Olivia’s every word. None of them could believe that she unknowingly broke bread with the other woman. They all hated Spencer now, really hated him. They were holding their breath praying that the woman didn’t touch her belly. When she reported that the woman sa
id, “No, thank you,” they breathed a collective sigh of relief. Olivia noted it and actually felt relieved that this was all as horrible as she thought it was.
She continued. “But he insisted on it. He took her hand and placed it on my belly. I remember we even got into an argument about it later that night.” Olivia went on. “She had the strangest look on her face. At the time I thought, I bet this poor woman is having trouble conceiving or something like that. Her expression was so pained. I even told Spencer my theory. I was worried about her!”
The other women sunk to the floor as well and consoled Olivia. They grieved with her, bonding over their shared humanity as women, both vulnerable and strong.
She had yet to utter a word of any of this to her parents or her sister or to any of her old friends. When she did, she knew there would be no turning back. For now she felt seen and heard and known by these three women, even though she hadn’t known them for longer than the hot minute it took for her life to unravel before her eyes, before their eyes. At that moment they were quite miraculously enough.
CHAPTER 35
Amanda & Eliza
Amanda stayed on after the Saturday rehearsal to help Dean organize the costume closet. It was a completely overwhelming task as the place was a disorganized mess.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if we come across my old Ado Annie costume in here. It looks like this place hasn’t been touched in fifty years.”
“I bet it would still fit you.”
“No way.”
“Absolutely,” he said, placing his hands on her narrow waist and pulling her toward him. “Let’s take a break.”
“Did you make up this project just to get me alone in here?”
“Possibly.”
He kissed her again, as he had done nearly every chance that he’d gotten since their rainy-day interlude. He apparently didn’t shave on the weekends, his silvery scruff making him even more handsome but prickly to the touch. Fifteen minutes in and she had to stop, citing beard burn. It was both true, and an excuse. As the shock was wearing off about all that had happened over the past weeks, the magnitude of what Carson had done, and her impending divorce, felt omnipresent. It cast a cloud over their dalliance, along with every other sunny thing in her life. She left, saying she had to get back for her kids.
Before stepping out of the car at home, she checked herself in the mirror. Between her smudged makeup and chafed cheeks, she looked like she had indeed spent the day making out in the costume closet. As she wiped the stray mascara from beneath her eyes, she caught a glimpse of a limousine idling on the street, an odd sight in Hudson Valley for sure. She got out of the car and knocked on the driver’s window.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“No, I’m just waiting out here for Carson Cole.”
She took a beat before entering her house, promising herself that she would not lose her cool, no matter which Carson, combative or contrite, she found inside. She entered, armed with the confidence of being on her home turf.
“Hello, Mandy,” he said, clearly on purpose, again, to soften her. Everything with Carson was a manipulation. It was why he was so successful in Hollywood: He always had an agenda, and he twisted and turned everyone around until he got his way. But she had an agenda as well.
“What are you doing here?”
“I brought Pippa’s guitar.”
“It’s not a puppy; you didn’t need to hand deliver it.”
“Well, I missed my family, so I did. Is that OK with you?” His tone was biting. He didn’t seem to be going for the repentant approach after all. She countered, suddenly not caring about her lawyer’s advice to stay civil.
“If you had any respect for me, you would not have shown up at my father’s house unannounced.” She held the front door open. “You can leave, and come back when you’re invited.”
He closed it.
“Pippa invited me.”
“So you’ve seen them.”
“Yes, all afternoon. Where have you been?”
The question threw her, but she collected herself and ignored it. “How long are you in town?”
“I’m staying through Thanksgiving. I’ll text you to make arrangements for the girls to come to the city to see me. I’m at the Plaza, and Sadie is excited to stay where Eloise stayed.”
She remembered him reading Eloise to the girls when they were little. He even once brought home Eloise dolls from a business trip to New York. More bribery, she thought. Although, if she were being honest with herself, she would have to admit that the girls missed him. Pippa may have been a little too young still to understand the nuances of consent and power dynamics, but if nothing else, she was angry that her father cheated on her mother. Even so, she loved him and was concerned for him. Amanda had certainly felt that way when her own mother walked out. The really deep and permeable anger came later.
In that moment, she wished he had been an awful, negligent father and that she could have nothing further to do with him, but having been a child on the receiving end of that kind of rejection made her sensitive to its repercussions. She was happy for them that he cared enough to come east for a while. She admonished herself for feeling something positive about Carson when, as if on cue, he admitted his real reason for staying.
“I need to hide, and I can’t run away to Europe right now.”
Any shred of compassion was wiped away.
“Do you realize the damage you’ve done?” Amanda asked, her voice rising. “Not just to our family, but to the women, the women you abused?”
“Do you think I need to hear this from you, Amanda?”
She laughed at him. “You’ve got to be kidding. You don’t think I have a right to be angry? Your infidelity is the least of it. You don’t see that I have been abused all these years, too?”
“Me too! Me too!” he shouted, mocking her.
“I’m married to you, Carson. It wasn’t supposed to be ‘me too’; it was supposed to be just me.”
“You knew who you were marrying. It’s not like I’m Bill Cosby or Harvey Weinstein. It was all consensual! I’m the victim! I got caught up in this witch hunt.”
“You know better than to say it was consensual, and it’s not a witch hunt! The witches were innocent, and you didn’t get caught up, you just got caught, period.”
“Powerful men have been facing these allegations for years, but all of a sudden it’s a life sentence?”
She could barely wrap her head around everything that was wrong with what he was saying, but standing in the foyer of the house she had grown up in, having moved her kids across the country, she felt brave. She felt responsible to show this man, her husband, who had hurt so many women under her nose, the pain he had inflicted. She collected herself and gave it to him.
“You are not owed a second chance. That is the same sense of entitlement that led you to believe that you could treat women as you did, treat people as you did, treat your wife, who loved you and gave you two beautiful children, as you did. You will never change until you understand what your words and your actions do to people.”
There was something so strange about having the upper hand, having the truth and the public on her side. She opened the door again and said, “You are a disgrace. Please leave my house, and don’t come back unless you are invited—by me.”
He left. Amanda wanted to think with his tail between his legs, but the truth was, he hardly even heard her. She ran across the street to tell Eliza, just as Luke was getting home from his office. They entered the kitchen at the same time, both equally agitated. Amanda took the back seat to Luke; she had never seen him worked up before.
“Eliza, is there something you want to tell me?”
She shot Amanda a look of panic before turning back to her husband and shaking her head no.
“A new patient named Shari Livingston came in today. She
said she got my name from the bulletin board.”
That’s nice, Eliza and Amanda both thought, wondering what the problem was.
“Have you heard of her?”
“No, but our membership has nearly doubled this year, I can’t know everyone,” she said proudly.
“What about her husband, Hank Livingston?”
“No. What’s going on, Luke?”
“When I looked in this poor woman’s mouth and commented how perfect her teeth were, she burst into tears. She said she had just moved from the city, just had her teeth cleaned, but she was worried that her husband was cheating on her and heard that my wife might know if it were true. Do you know if Shari Livingston’s husband is cheating on her, and if he is—how the hell do you know that?”
“Oh boy,” Eliza said and sat down at the kitchen table. How many suspicious wives was she torturing right now? She felt like an even bigger snake than she had before.
“Maybe I should go?” Amanda piped in, feeling that painful awkwardness of witnessing another couple come to blows.
Luke’s tone was unusually indignant. “Maybe you should sit down, too. I have a feeling you know all about this.”
They both flashed back to being sat down together in the same kitchen by Eliza’s mom—she may have even used those same words. Eliza recalled a chocolate stain on the couch; Amanda, a couple of cigarettes missing from Birdie’s pack of Virginia Slims. Suddenly, as it had been then, it was hard not to laugh.
Eliza straightened herself out and owned up to some of it. “Our neighbor, Ashley Smith, is having an affair with our new friend Olivia’s husband, and it all came to light on the bulletin board. That’s what she must be referring to.”
She opened up her phone and pulled up the last post. “Here—read this.”
He did. “Wow, does Mr. Smith know?”
“We don’t think so.”
“Well, that’s unfortunate. He seems like such a nice guy.”
“You want to tell him?” Amanda asked, thinking it could help Olivia.
“Very funny,” he said, turning to his wife. “I’m just glad it has nothing to do with you.” The recent distance between them was causing him to question things he never would have before.
Eliza Starts a Rumor Page 20