After it was over, they lay quietly for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling.
“You okay?” he asked, brushing her sweaty bangs off her forehead.
She smiled. “You just took it outta me, that’s all.”
Cash propped his head up with his arm, his brown eyes narrowing. “I make you happier than him, don’t I?”
Madison smirked. “Is someone jealous?” It was working. . . .
“No way,” he said defensively, pushing himself up. “Why on earth would I be jealous of some old loser?” He swung his legs over the edge of the futon.
“Right . . .” She sat up, grabbing her black bra off the floor, and clasping it back together.
Cash walked over to the minifridge, his long, dark hair falling over his shoulders, and grabbed another beer. “Let him take you to New Orleans, that’s fine,” he said, popping the top off. “Just wait until I go on tour, though. Baby, I’m gonna take you places you’ve never been before.”
A thrill ran through Madison. Cash had been talking about going on tour for months, but he’d never once mentioned bringing her. That hadn’t stopped her from imagining what it would be like, though—her man, the open road, cool clubs all over the country.
“Any news?” she asked, sitting back down on the futon.
“Max is working it out right now.” Cash sat down next to her and put his arm around her. “With any luck, we’ll be heading out in a few months.”
“Nice. Maybe George and I can come see you play.” She looked over at him innocently, knowing that would eat at him.
Cash’s lips curled and he shook his head. “Not cool, Blanchette. Not cool.”
She burst out laughing. “Too soon?”
Cash teasingly punched her arm and started tickling her.
“Stop!” she screamed, laughing uncontrollably. “I surrender! I surrender!”
He finally stopped and stared at her as if he wanted to say something more. Instead, he unhooked the bra she had just clasped and started kissing her again, harder and more passionately than before. Madison’s mind went blissfully blank. Every problem in her life—her dad’s cancer, her family’s money issues, her miserable job cleaning houses—all of it was forgotten as Cash made her focus on other things, like how good it felt when he did that or touched her there.
Madison surrendered to the moment, drinking Cash in. He made her feel better than any drug she had ever done, even though she knew he was just as bad for her, if not worse.
14
gabrielle
GABBY KNEW SHE had to tell Tony the truth the second he placed the ring on her finger, but it had been a month, and every time she tried to tell him, something came up. The night of the engagement, he’d covered his whole apartment in roses and candles and she couldn’t bring herself to ruin that moment. The next day, he’d found out his granny had suffered a stroke, and Gabby didn’t want to hurt him with more bad news. And a week later, he found out his work was sending him to DC for a monthlong stay. As frustrating as it was to have this hanging over her head, she also felt relieved, like she’d been granted a reprieve.
But Tony would be back the following week, and she’d been thinking about every possible approach to telling him.
She could try nonchalance, prefacing the whole conversation with, “So, I have a funny story. . . .” The only problem with that scenario was that every time she pictured it in her head, Tony did not actually laugh. Scratch that one.
Another option was to skip over the awkward conversation and surprise Tony with a visit to her mom. While there was a chance he’d be so confused that he would just accept everything, there was a much bigger chance he’d dump her on the spot. Scratch.
Out of all of the scenarios in her head, not one of them actually ended with Tony saying, “It’s okay, babe. I forgive you.”
Gabby’s cell phone rang, jolting her from worries. Tony.
“Hey, babe,” she answered with a smile. Her mom once told her people could hear your expression on the other end. “How’s DC?”
“Hey, baby,” he said, the sounds of a city in the background. “I’m just checking out the Washington Monument and wishing you were here with me.”
Gabby pictured him elbowing his way through throngs of tourists. “Me, too. I’m excited to see you next week!” Excited . . . nervous . . . those were the same, right?
“Actually, that’s what I’m calling you about. My mom wanted to make sure you knew you were invited to Thanksgiving dinner next week—I’ve been so busy with work, I completely forgot it was even coming up.”
Gabby grew silent. Turkey with a side of heartbreak?
“It’s just going to be me, my mom, my brother, and my sister. Unfortunately my dad won’t be there—he’s going to be helping the governor pardon a turkey.”
She paused, thinking about the invitation. “Sure, I’ll join,” she said reluctantly. While it would be nice to spend the holiday with a family—she usually went to Claire’s and felt like she was intruding—this meant she would have to wait until after Thanksgiving to tell him. She didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his family.
“Great! I gotta run, babe. I’m meeting up with an old law school buddy for lunch.”
“Okay, I love you,” she said softly into the phone, but he’d already hung up.
• • •
CLAIRE OPENED THE front door with a crying baby on her hip and flour on her cheek. “Hey,” she said, sounding tired. “Come on in.”
“You sure now’s an okay time?” Gabby asked, peeking into the house. “You seem busy.”
“Girl, I’m a working mom,” Claire huffed. “I’m always busy. Get in here and take off your shoes. I just vacuumed the living room.”
Gabby obeyed her friend and followed Claire and the sounds of Sadie’s screams into the kitchen, which looked like it’d been turned into a cookie factory.
“I’m putting you to work,” Claire said, throwing her a floral apron. She put Sadie down in her high chair and slid a bowl of Cheerios to her. “I signed up to make six dozen cranberry cookies for the Thanksgiving potluck at church tomorrow and am definitely regretting that decision right now.”
“Well, how many have you made so far?” Gabby looked around.
“One batch.” Claire opened up the oven and pulled out a baking sheet covered with twelve perfect cookies. She frowned. “It’s gonna be a long day.”
“Well, I’m here, don’t worry.” Gabby tied the apron around her waist and started mixing some of the ingredients together in the stainless steel bowl.
“Thank you,” Claire said. “Sorry I was so short with you on the phone. I’m just—” She paused and threw her hands up in the air. “All of this, you know?”
Gabby nodded. “No need to explain.” She often wondered how Claire did it all—it was impressive, albeit a bit stressful, to see her in action sometimes.
“So, what did you want advice on? I’m all ears—well, one of my ears might be busted thanks to screamin’ Sadie over there. . . .” The girls both looked over at the baby, who was beginning to calm down as she picked at the cereal curiously. “But let’s hear it.”
Gabby grabbed some of the dough and began rolling it into a ball in her hands. “Claire, I’m in a big ol’ mess.”
Her friend looked up from the measuring cup of flour, her eyes widening. “What is it?”
Gabby braced herself; she still hadn’t said these words aloud to anyone yet. “I may have lied a little to Tony.”
“What do you mean? What did you say?” Claire put the measuring cup down on the table.
Gabby began furiously rolling the dough in her hands, unable to look at her friend. “So, he thinks I’m a senior at U.L. about to apply for my master’s in education, and that my parents are . . .” She dropped the ball of dough back into the bowl. “Dead.” She shook her head in disgust, and tears began rolling down her cheeks. As if on cue, Sadie knocked over her Cheerios and began screaming again.
Claire gasped and put her hand over her mo
uth. “Why in the world would you have said that?” This was the first time Gabby had ever seen Claire ignore her baby’s cries.
Gabby lowered her head. “It just happened. . . .”
Her friend pulled out the two chairs from under the table and sat down in one of them. “This is major,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.
Gabby sat down next to Claire, wiping away the tears with the back of her hand. “I’m going to lose him, huh?”
“I just don’t understand why you said all this to him in the first place. . . .” Claire swept the Cheerios off the table and back into their bowl, and put it back on Sadie’s tray. The little girl calmed down again.
“He just was a guy in a bar—I never thought anything would come of it, so when he assumed I was at college, I just went along with it.” She put her head in her hands. “It was nice to pretend for a second that I actually got to live out my dream. There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by in the last four years where I don’t feel ashamed of how my life has turned out.” She sniffled and looked up. “But when I told him my parents weren’t around anymore, he took it to mean they were dead. Once we started dating, I wanted to correct him, but that would’ve meant explaining everything with my mom, and I just . . . I just couldn’t.”
Claire raised her right eyebrow but thankfully withheld judgment.
“He would have never asked me out if he had known the truth. There’s a reason I haven’t dated anyone seriously since high school.” She sighed, fidgeting with her fingers. “I know I sound like a crazy person, but when I’m with him, I feel like I’m finally living the life I was always supposed to have.” Her heart ached. “He’s the only guy I’ve ever met who appreciates my ideas—he tells me I’m smart all the time, and I swear, Claire, I feel smarter when I’m with him. When we’re together, he looks at me like I’m perfect.”
“Because you are, Gabs.” Claire put her hand on her shoulder. “And I’m talking about the real you.”
Gabby rolled her eyes. “You have to say that! You’re my best friend. But we both know there are things in my life that are awful.” She shook her head. “You don’t know how hard these last few years have been for me, Claire. Tony makes me forget all of that bad stuff. He makes me feel happy, and if—I mean when”—she corrected herself—“I tell him the truth, he’s going to leave me and I’m going to be alone again, with nothing.”
As Sadie happily tossed her food around, Claire leaned over and rubbed Gabby’s back. “Even with the little hiccups in your life, you’ve managed to stay strong and you haven’t lost what makes you you. Tony didn’t fall in love with you because you’re in college; he fell in love with you because you’re smart and he likes hanging out with you. And if you’re worried about him judging you for your mom’s situation, then quite frankly, I don’t think he’s worth it.”
Gabby shook her head. “I don’t really think it’s a coincidence that the one I don’t tell ends up proposing to me. Every guy I’ve told previously has run away.” The words were painful to say aloud.
Claire’s voice sharpened. “It doesn’t matter. You have to tell him, Gabs. Your mom’s eventually gonna get out of jail, and then what? You’re gonna cut her out of your life? You know you can’t do that. And what if you really do want to go to school one day? Isn’t he going to wonder why you’re getting your degree twice?”
“I know all of that! I know I need to tell him,” Gabby said. “I just don’t know how.”
Claire cocked her head to the side. “You just have to be honest with him. Promise me you’ll do it the next time you see him.”
Gabby nodded, sniffling. As awful as the truth was, the viselike grip around her chest was finally beginning to lessen. She’d been carrying this lie alone for so long. “I will. After Thanksgiving.”
“Okay, good.” Claire patted her on the back. “And I know you’re nervous, sweetie, but I truly believe that everything goes according to God’s plan. If Tony doesn’t want to be with you after this, it wasn’t meant to be.” Sadie began to fuss again and Claire stood up, grabbing her out of her high chair, and bouncing her on her hip.
“But what if he’s my soul mate, and I screwed it up?” Gabby asked, standing up and going back to work on the dough.
“Well, worst-case scenario, you learn from this. Just remember, if he can’t handle the truth, then he’s not worthy of you. You deserve the best, Gabs. Don’t settle for anything less.”
Those words echoed in Gabby’s head as she rolled the dough between her hands. “You deserve the best. Don’t settle for anything less.” She could only hope that Tony didn’t live by that mantra.
15
claire
AFTER GABBY LEFT, Claire’s own advice to her kept repeating in her head. “You deserve the best. Don’t settle for anything less.” It hurt that her husband had been going to a strip club, yes. But what was worse was that he’d been lying to her. She didn’t deserve that.
When she finished baking the final batch of cookies, she packed Sadie in her carrier and drove a few miles up the road, turning into the Sunnybrook apartment complex where her mom lived.
Her mom looked worried when she opened the door. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
With Sadie’s carrier in hand, Claire brushed past Jillian and made her way to the floral couch. It was the same one that she had cried on through her parents’ divorce, two high school breakups, one fight with Gabby, and the slight panic attack over a catering snafu before her wedding.
“I’m a total wreck, Mama,” she confessed, setting Sadie’s car seat on the ground.
Jillian sat down, her forehead wrinkling in concern. “What happened, sweetie?”
As she told her mom about seeing Gavin at The Saddle last night, she felt disgusted with him, with herself, with their marriage. She could taste the salt from her tears by the time she finished.
“Just tell me it’s gonna be okay,” Claire pleaded between sobs.
Her mom hugged her tight. “I’m sure it’s all just a big misunderstanding.”
“How could it be a misunderstanding?” Claire said, pulling away from Jillian. She put her feet onto the brown leather footrest that used to be in her granny’s house before she passed away. She and Madison would use it to build sheet forts as kids. Life was so much easier when the biggest drama was Granny yelling at them for playing with her good bed linens. “I saw it myself. What am I supposed to do?”
“You’ve gotta talk to him,” Jillian said, thrusting a quilted Kleenex box at Claire. “Find out what’s really going on.”
Claire blew her nose and glanced over at the bookcase, where a framed photo of them on their wedding day sat. Gavin had seemed so sincere when he said his vows in front of God and all their family and friends. What had changed? “What if he’s just . . . bored with me?” she asked, voicing her worst fears.
Jillian stroked her daughter’s hair. Her hands smelled like lavender and eucalyptus, the lotion she’d been wearing all of Claire’s life. “Take control of your marriage. It isn’t easy. You’ve gotta work at it all the time.”
Claire’s chin started to wobble again and she swallowed, fighting back more tears. “How? What can I do?”
Jillian paused, as if debating whether or not to say something, and then stood up. She walked over to the bookcase and opened the cabinet, pulling out a DVD. “Here’s my favorite aerobics video. Start with this,” she said, handing it to her daughter.
Claire bristled and handed the DVD back to her mom. Was Jillian telling her she was . . . fat? “I highly doubt that a workout video made fifteen years ago is gonna save my marriage. And maybe I’m naive, but doesn’t being in a committed relationship mean loving your partner regardless of how they look?”
“Honey . . .” Her mom sat back down next to her and grabbed Claire’s hands. “I’m not saying he’s stopped loving you. I just wish someone would’ve given me advice like this—before it was too late.”
Claire shook her head, confused. �
��What do you mean? Daddy didn’t go runnin’ off to a strip club. . . .”
Jillian pursed her lips. “No, he just ran off with Nancy Martin instead.”
“Wait—Daddy had an affair?” Claire’s stomach went into free fall. When her dad had left, her mom had told her he couldn’t handle the responsibility of being part of a family anymore. The fact that he’d chosen someone else over them made her feel physically ill.
Jillian brushed her blond hair off her forehead, her cheeks reddening. “You were too young to know the truth, and as you got older, I didn’t want to color your opinion of your father. And honestly, I was embarrassed by it. I’d been so focused on raising you that I completely neglected our marriage.”
“So, it’s my fault you got a divorce?” Claire suddenly had a vision of her and Sadie having this same conversation twenty years in the future. She buried her face in her hands.
“Oh my goodness, no!” her mom quickly said. “Don’t you ever think that.” She took Claire by the shoulders and gave her a steely look. “It was my fault, it was your dad’s fault, but it was definitely not yours. All I’m saying is that if I could do things differently, I’d have made more of an effort. Gavin’s just going to a strip club, not having an affair. You still have time to turn things around. You can change things.”
Claire took a deep breath and rested her head on the back of the couch. Maybe her mom was right. Maybe she could be making a better effort. If she was being honest, she hadn’t tried all that hard to lose the baby weight. And, though Sadie was her heart, she knew she spent more time thinking about her daughter than she did thinking about her husband. Suddenly, the events of the last twenty-four hours felt exhausting.
“Is it okay if I stay here for just a little while longer?” Her eyes fluttered closed. Claire felt her mom’s gentle kiss on her forehead, heard her trail of footsteps heading toward the kitchen, and let herself drift, feeling at peace for the first time in days.
The next thing she knew, she was woken up by the sound of her cell phone vibrating on the table by her head. She reached for it groggily. Somehow, it was seven already, and Gavin was calling.
The Young Wives Club Page 10