The Young Wives Club

by Julie Pennell

  “I went home and told my parents I was gonna try to get you back. I didn’t know how I was gonna do it, but I was gonna fight for you, Gabs.” He held the teacup by the handle, moving it as he spoke, as if to punctuate his words.

  She stared at him, disbelieving. “Why would you want me back after finding out that I lied to you? Aren’t you mad at me?”

  “Of course.” He put the teacup down and grabbed her hand from across the table. “But I think I know you better than you realize. So, maybe I missed a couple of things. . . .” He chuckled quietly. “But I know that what we had was love and I don’t think you actually meant to deceive me. I remember those conversations with you at the beginning, and I remember making assumptions.” He pulled back his hands. “That doesn’t make what you did right.” He paused. “But I could understand why you might have done it.”

  “I never meant to hurt you,” she said. “I hope you know that.”

  Tony frowned. “When I was telling my parents I wanted you back, my dad ended up telling me about your deal.” He shook his head. “He refuses to admit that what he did was wrong, but it was . . . it was awful.” Tony’s brown eyes stared deeply into hers. “I’m so sorry that he put you in that position. I feel betrayed by him.”

  She picked up the teacup to fiddle with. “It’s not his fault. It’s mine, Tony. He wouldn’t have done all of this if I hadn’t lied in the first place.” She lowered her head.

  “Look, I don’t care whose fault it was.” He clenched his jaw and then softened his voice. “I got the facts wrong but the person right. Can we just start over? With honesty—the way we should have done in the first place?”

  Gabby raised her head. Was he really saying what she thought he was saying? “But what about your new girlfriend?”

  Tony’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Who?”

  She bit her lip. “The girl you were with at the mall.”

  He laughed. “That was my cousin, Mary-Anne.”

  A knot of jealous tension unraveled in Gabby’s chest. She looked into his dark eyes and then at the nervous smile on his face. “So . . . you’re serious?”

  “I’m very serious.” He stood up and reached for her hand, pulling her close to him between the tea party table and the jungle gym. “The girl I fell in love with is you.” He looked deep into her eyes. “I fell in love with your intelligence.” He touched her head. “It had nothing to do with you pretending to be enrolled in school. You didn’t fake your ideas or passion in our conversations.” He paused. “I fell in love with your heart.” He touched her chest. “The same one that chose to help her mom find a better life—and who could blame you for that? No other girl has made me feel the way that you do, and that is real.” He lifted her chin with his hand. “So what do you say? Can we just start fresh? I just want to be with you again. I love you, Gabby.”

  Gabby’s heart fluttered, but questions kept popping into her mind. She wondered if Tony would be able to trust her moving forward, and whether this sense of embarrassment would fade or stay with her throughout the rest of their relationship? She also thought back to her college scholarship application on the desktop in the other room. She finally had plans—would her dreams fit into Tony’s life? But when she looked into his eyes, she knew what the answer was. They would figure it out . . . together. “I love you, too, Tony.”

  His smile widened, and he kissed her. Gabby kissed him back, pouring all of the longing of the past two months into it. When he pulled away, she felt like she was standing on solid ground for the first time in months.

  Tony’s eyes crinkled as he smiled at her. “You just make me so happy.” He kissed her again and lowered himself onto the ground, bending on one knee.

  Gabby’s heart stopped. “When you said start over I thought—”

  “Shhh,” he interrupted her, laughing. “I have a speech.”

  Gabby blushed and nodded for him to continue.

  “You’re the most important person in my life, and I don’t want to spend another day without you. I wanna try this again and do it right.” He pulled out the diamond engagement ring, the one she had given back to him at the café when they broke up. “Gabby Vaughn, will you marry me?”

  Gabby put her hand on her heart. “Of course I’ll marry you!” She couldn’t say the words fast enough.

  He slipped the ring on her finger. She looked down and admired it. Even though it was the same piece she had worn for six months, it looked different this time around. Somehow it was even more perfect. She wrapped her arms around Tony’s neck and held him close. “We should go celebrate.”

  “Where do you want to go? For a drink? Out to dinner? You name it.”

  Gabby pondered it for a second. “Actually, I’ve got a few people you need to meet.” She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and texted her friends to meet them at the Sea Shack in thirty minutes. “And is it okay if we pick up my mom on the way there?”

  He kissed her on the forehead. “That sounds perfect.”

  “I’ll be right back!” Gabby ran into the office and saved her scholarship application essay to work on in the morning. She grabbed her bag, and they began walking out of the day care.

  “So, there’s just one more thing . . .” Tony said as they reached the hallway.

  Gabby stopped and looked nervously in his eyes. “What?”

  “With my whole dad situation, I’m not asking my parents to help pay for the wedding anymore, so we can’t afford your dream wedding.”

  She took a deep breath and then pulled him in closer for a kiss. “I don’t care about a stupid wedding anymore,” Gabby said. “All I want is you.”

  46

  madison

  MADISON SHIFTED UNCOMFORTABLY at the podium in the church auditorium, staring out at a sea of expectant faces. She normally didn’t mind public speaking, but giving the eulogy at her father’s funeral was even harder than she’d imagined it would be. She found her mom in the front row and met Connie’s eyes, red and puffy from days of crying. Connie nodded at her and Madison took a deep breath, and then began.

  “Thank you all for being here today. As I look out and see how many people are here to say good-bye to my dad, I’m overwhelmed with love.” Her hands were shaking and she gripped the podium tightly. “And I know he’s looking down and loving all of this, too—probably with a drink in his hand, a cigarette in his mouth, and that huge smile he got when he was happy, like when the Saints scored or when he’d catch a monster fish.”

  The crowd laughed, loosening the vise around Madison’s heart. She attempted a smile and started again, the words coming more slowly. “If you knew my dad—which I’m assuming you did because why else would you be spending your Saturday morning here?—you know that he was a great guy. What I’ve seen throughout my life—and what I’ve heard from a lot of you over these past few days—was that he always had a way of making everyone around him feel special. When he listened to you, it felt like you were the most important person in the world to him. Everyone loved talking to him because he gave the best advice—in his straight-shootin’, no-nonsense kind of way, of course. So, with that in mind, I’d like to share a few of my favorite Allen Blanchette words of wisdom.”

  Madison looked back into the crowd and saw Claire, Laura, and Gabby seated together in the second row. They gave her encouraging smiles. Her eyes shifted to the row behind them, and that was when she saw George, wearing the same dark suit he’d worn to their wedding. After everything she’d done, he was here, paying his respects to her father. Gratitude welled up inside her and she cut her eyes away from him and back to her speech, clearing her throat.

  “One. You get what you pay for. This especially applies to fishing gear and lawn mowers.” The mourners laughed again and Madison smiled along with them.

  “Two. Find the good in everyone. People come into your life for a reason, even the ones you can’t stand. He recited that one over and over again during the season Tommy O’Hare was traded from the Cowboys to the Saints.


  “Three. Be kind to others. But if someone’s not kind to you, it’s okay to give them a taste of their own medicine. This one goes out especially to that mechanic who thought it’d be cool to rip him off in ’97. May his business rest in peace.

  “And four. Family is the most important thing in your life. Not money. Not career. Not that shiny new boat, however much happiness it will bring you. If you can go home every night to people who support you and love you unconditionally, you’ve won at life. And that, my friends, is why Allen Blanchette is wearing a gold medal up in heaven right now.”

  • • •

  AFTER THE FUNERAL, Madison stood helplessly in the kitchen, looking around at all the deviled eggs and casseroles and cellophane-wrapped loaves of bread on the counter. People were starting to come over for the reception, and it was nice of everyone to bring food, but no amount of carbs or sweets or comfort meals would bring her dad back to life.

  “Hey, you,” Claire said softly as she, Gabby, and Laura entered the room. The girls were all wearing black: her cousin had on a cap-sleeved frock and a simple pearl necklace; Gabby wore a long cotton halter dress and covered it with a gray cardigan even though it was ninety degrees outside; and Laura had donned a dark tea-length skirt and top.

  “Gosh, you all look beautiful,” Madison said, hugging each of them. “You should go to funerals more often.”

  The girls smiled awkwardly at her joke.

  Laura pushed some things around on the counter to make room for her large bowl. “How are you doing?”

  “It’s tough,” Madison confessed. “But luckily I have enough fried okra to get me through the rest of my life,” she said sarcastically, pointing to all of the containers of food.

  “Well, when you need a break from the okra, I brought some homemade chocolate chip cookies,” Claire said, holding up a silver tin wrapped in a black bow.

  “And peanut butter brownies . . .” Gabby said, setting an aluminum pan on the counter.

  “Yeah . . . and a vat of homemade mashed potatoes,” Laura said guiltily. “And by homemade I mean like six boxes of the instant kind.”

  “Thank you girls so much for coming. Even if your goal is to make me fat.” Madison smiled. They had been there for her every day with texts and hugs; Madison didn’t know how she would have gotten through this without them.

  Claire put her head on Madison’s shoulder. “The funeral was beautiful. How’s your mom doing? I only got to say hi to her briefly.”

  “You know . . .” Madison shuffled her bare feet on the floor and tugged her black shift dress. “She’s handling it as best she can.” She paused and leaned on the counter. “It just . . . it just doesn’t seem real. I feel like he’s in the other room, entertaining everyone with his stupid jokes.” She cracked a smile and then frowned. “But he’s not. He’s gone. And there’s nothing that can bring him back. It’s like a nightmare.” She paused, tearing up. “I feel like I’m living a nightmare right now, but I’m never going to wake up.”

  “Oh, sweetie,” Gabby said, rubbing her arm. “We’re here for you. Anything you need.”

  “Thank you,” Madison said, forcing a smile and rubbing the tears away. She’d always had a hard time being vulnerable, even with the people she loved most. “You don’t know how much it means to me, y’all being here and all.”

  “We wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” Laura said softly. “Like Gabby said, we’re here for you.”

  Madison nodded and tried to shake the tears off. “Okay, I just need a moment. Why don’t y’all go on in,” she said, pointing to the living room. “And I’ll be out there in a few.”

  The girls nodded and walked away, leaving her completely alone with her thoughts and the five hundred thousand calories sitting on the counter. She grabbed a strawberry from the Edible Arrangement Mr. Gary had sent over and walked outside to the porch, wiping her tears away.

  A gust of warm air hit her as she stepped out into the muggy, overcast afternoon. The leaky tin awning above her head was dripping noisily and a small bird splashed around in the puddle of water on the blue tarp covering her dad’s boat. Madison swatted away a mosquito. Cigarette smoke wafted toward her and she turned.

  On the lawn, his back toward her, was George, puffing pensively. Madison’s heart lurched. Since spotting him in the church, she’d wondered if he’d make it to the reception but figured that he didn’t want to be anywhere near her.

  “You know those are bad for you,” she said.

  George turned around, his green eyes lighting up at the sight of her. “Hey,” he said softly. He looked down at the cigarette in embarrassment. “Uh, yeah, you know I don’t really smoke that often—”

  “Can I have one?” she cut him off, meeting him halfway on the concrete.

  He nodded and handed her a cigarette, lighting it with his stainless steel lighter.

  She walked over to the porch swing, and he followed. They sat down, neither saying anything for a few seconds. Instead, they just listened to the repetition of the swing creaking up and down.

  After a few calming drags, Madison finally spoke. “How long have you been here?”

  “Not long, just a few minutes,” George said, his voice deep and soothing. He put his arm around the back of the swing, his silver Rolex clunking against the wood. Madison resisted the urge to move closer to him, bury her face in his jacket, and let him comfort her. “Your eulogy was great. It was perfect.”

  “Thanks.” She exhaled some smoke. “I’m . . . I’m happy you’re here. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

  “I just wanted to tell you I’m so sorry, Madison.” He touched her shoulder, and the warmth of his hand made her heart clench.

  She looked up at him, wondering what he was apologizing for. Her dad? Their relationship? Something else?

  “You were right—the things you said when you left. I took advantage of your situation and it was wrong.” He crushed his cigarette into the concrete with his polished loafer. “You may have picked up on this over the past few months, but I don’t always make the best social decisions.” He sighed. “You were so much younger than me and in a desperate situation, and after you left, I did a lot of reflecting and realized that I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

  She leaned her head back on the swing and thought about what he was saying. He might feel guilty, but she took advantage of the situation, too. “I never felt pressured, though, so don’t feel like that happened, okay?”

  “I never wanted to hurt you,” he said looking up at her. The earnest look in his eyes made her stomach ache.

  “And you never did.” She blew on her cigarette, realizing he sort of had the situation twisted. “But I know I hurt you. And I’m really sorry about that, George.”

  He stood up and walked over to a glass of scotch that was sitting on the windowsill. He must have set it down earlier when he came outside. “We both made mistakes, Mads,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

  As she stared at him, she noticed for the first time how confident he was. George had never played mind games with her, or waffled about what he wanted. He made decisions—about her, about his life—with certainty, and followed through on them. It was an attractive quality. How had she not realized that before?

  “You know why I loved being with you?” he asked, pacing in front of the window. “When I first met you, I had this need to comfort you, to take care of you. But the more I got to know you, the more I learned all the good in you that, quite frankly, I don’t think you even knew you had. I stopped wanting to take care of you and started falling in love with you.”

  “You fell in love with me?” she said softly.

  George stopped his pacing and locked eyes with her, a determined set to his jaw. “You made me laugh, and see things in a different way. Even though I knew what you were doing, what we were, I felt like you were being genuine when we were together.”

  Madison sighed. “I was.” The times that she’d spent with G
eorge were always, surprisingly, some of the most fun she’d ever had. He made her feel heard and funny and adventurous. All he’d ever asked was for her to be herself.

  He joined her on the swing again. “For the first time in my life, I allowed myself to be happy. I don’t know—it’s like you brought out things in myself that I wasn’t even aware of. . . . I went thirty-two years without ever letting someone into my life, and I was starting to think that it was never gonna happen.” He took another sip of his scotch. “Now, it hurt when you left.” He put his hand on his heart. “But the pain was just a reminder that for the first time, I had let myself fall. And that was a good thing.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I didn’t see you leaving to go with Cash as something cruel. You might, but I don’t. . . .”

  Guilt tore at Madison. “Then what did you see it as?” she asked, leaning toward him.

  “Something you needed to do.” He put his arm around the back of the swing again. “You needed to see that you deserved better than that. You’re a good person, Mads. Just like your dad.”

  A lump grew in Madison’s throat as she thought about her father. Being compared to him was the highest compliment she could think of.

  “All that stuff that you said in the eulogy about him—you got all of that from him,” George continued. “And that family of yours that you’ll go home to every night one day, they’re gonna be the luckiest people in the world.” He took another sip of his scotch. “There’s something so special about you, and I know that you’re going to find someone just as special as you are.”

  Madison considered his words. She’d been in love with Cash for years, and the whole time she’d been waiting for him to commit, for him to see her as special, as enough. But in a strange way, it’d never been about him, not really. He’d never let her get close enough to see if they’d actually work. It was like those Snickers bars she used to steal—a cheap thrill, or a bad habit she couldn’t kick. But since she’d left Birmingham, she hadn’t thought of Cash once.