by Anna Adams
“Hi,” Isabel said. “I thought we were having brisket.”
“It burned.”
“I’m stunned.”
Her dad pulled her inside and hugged her before he let her go. “Imagine how your mom felt. I don’t think she’s had a failure like this since she burned the bottom out of the giblet pan our first Thanksgiving.”
Isabel had heard that story a few times—when her dad felt her mom needed to be pulled back from the ego-boosting edge of perfection. “Thanks for the laugh.”
“For once, your mom wouldn’t mind me bringing it up. We had the windows open all afternoon.”
She glanced at her watch. She’d sat on that floor for a hell of a long time.
“Are you okay, honey?”
She nodded but hugged him again. “You’re better tonight.”
“I’ve had plenty to do.”
So work was key? She’d remember that next time she pined against a wall. “Where are Ben and Tony?”
“Ben’s persuading Tony to use his high chair. Give me your coat.” He pulled it off her. “You’re trembling. Is it that cold outside?”
Isabel pulled herself together. “It’s snowing again. I’d better go read that letter.”
“Are you worried about something Will might have said?” He put his fingers beneath her chin. “Why are you frightened?”
“No reason.” She tried to brazen it out, but her father didn’t believe her. “I dread hearing from him after all this time. And I can’t talk to him about whatever he’s said.” A bad taste in her mouth cut her off. What a lie. If Will had wanted talk, he’d have called her. He’d wanted his say and no hint of an argument from her.
She hoped Faith had enjoyed being his grown-up doll more than she had.
“I’m going upstairs.”
“Wait.” Her father stopped her. “How long do you plan to stay here?”
“I don’t know.” Was he suspicious? “Until I finish the house. I can’t really afford a hotel right now.”
“No. Your mother and I thought we’d go home. We can come back if Tony or Ben needs us.”
“I’m sure Tony is better off, having you so close.”
“He dragged your mother out for a turn around the park while the brisket smell cleared out of the house.” He smiled reflectively. “That walk did her good.”
“Don’t go yet, Dad.”
“Huh?”
She wasn’t used to asking for favors. She’d always been the responsible daughter, the one who took life on the chin. Faith had needed their help—to pay school loans and credit-card bills and the occasional car payment before she’d married Ben. They’d expected their more delicate daughter to need their help.
Surprising herself as much as her dad, Isabel threw her arms around him and hung on. “I need you. Can’t you stay a few more days? There’s plenty of room for you and Mom here.”
“No. Your mom’s better during the day, but at night, with nothing to do except look at the ceiling and remember Faith in this house, she might slip back.” He hugged her. “But I have this friend. He spends winters in Florida and he might lend me his condo in D.C.”
“Could you call him tonight?” She didn’t want to be left alone with her disillusionment over Will, her anger with Faith and her confusion about Ben.
She and her parents had long ago adopted a live-and-let-live policy that kept them respectful of one another’s privacy. Tonight she needed more.
“I’ll talk to your mother on the way back to the hotel.”
“Thanks, Dad. I’m going up to change and read that letter. Tell Mom I’ll be down as soon as I clean up a little. I feel like a dust ball.”
“Take your time.” He took her hand as she turned to the stairs. “And yell if you need me.”
She laughed with relief. Her father understood. His empathy strengthened her. She wasn’t really the weak woman who’d collapsed in Ben’s arms.
In her room, the letter lay on a dresser, a large white envelope with Ben’s address stickered over her business address in Middleburg.
What else could Will have hidden from her? She breathed deep to keep from choking.
Turning her back on the letter, she made up her bed. And then she unpacked the clothes and toiletries she’d left in her bag.
At last she couldn’t find another task to put between her and opening the letter. She picked it up and sat in a straight-backed chair. Outside, darkness shaded the window. Downstairs, Tony laughed with the sheer joy only a child knows. Ben’s deep voice echoed his son’s.
Ben and Tony. A normal man and boy in a world where she felt increasingly like a stranger. She loved them. They loved her. Ben needed her here for some reason she didn’t understand yet, but he’d never hurt her. Why not throw the letter away and go downstairs?
Why not?
Because she was no longer the weak-kneed puddle of compliance that Will Barker had bent to suit his plans. She jerked the envelope open so fast it tore.
A single page fluttered to the floor. She picked it up, recognizing Will’s writing with a slight pang.
Dear Isabel, I’m sorry, but Faith and I are leaving together, and we’re taking our son. Everyone will know the truth about us and about Tony by the time you read this. I wanted to warn you that Faith has persuaded me to take it all out in the open.
She looked up, barely seeing the pale green walls. He’d needed convincing? Isabel’s mouth went dry with anger. Though he’d cheated on her and tried to ruin Ben’s life, she felt her deepest contempt because he’d had to be convinced to acknowledge Tony.
You won’t be that surprised that we’re leaving. You know you never forgave me for that first slip. I needed you to look at me again with complete love. Instead you became repressed. I was so lonely I turned to Faith to find ways to win you back. She was unhappy, too, bored with Ben’s ambitions and his refusal to give her the good time and the interesting company she and I both enjoy.
Those dinner parties that had been sheer hell and boredom for her. But Faith had treated each one like a gala celebration.
We tried to say no to our feelings, but Faith and I are soul mates as you and I couldn’t be. If you’d fallen in love as I have, I would never have tried to hold you. Please understand and know that in my own way I loved you once.
She dropped the letter, laughing without joy. Almost immediately, a knock rattled the door. Ben must have been standing there.
She breathed deep, tried to stop laughing.
Without knocking again, Ben burst inside. He stumbled, stopping just before he landed on the bed.
Isabel laughed harder.
“I thought you’d lock it,” he said.
She put her hands over her mouth until she could stop. Her face felt wet. She must be crying.
“Your dad said you came up to read this.” He picked up the letter. “I would have come with you. You should have waited.”
“Take a look.”
“No.” He held it out. “I came to make sure you were all right, but I don’t want to know anything else.”
“You’ll get a laugh, too.”
“I doubt it.” But he turned the letter faceup. It was irresistible torture.
“No,” she said, trying to take it back. “It’s mean, and everything he said was a lie.” Ben didn’t need Will’s side of it. He hadn’t had three months to start healing.
Ben read anyway, but he didn’t laugh. When he finished, he dropped it on the floor, ground it beneath his heel and wrapped his arms around her.
“Twisted bastard.”
Isabel laughed again. She caught his shirt in both hands. His heart wasn’t bleeding through it. “They were Romeo and Juliet.”
“And we were stooges, but we’re still here and we’re going to survive. Let him go, Isabel.”
“Why did I try so hard? ‘In my own way I loved you once.’ If I’m lucky, I’ll live the rest of my life without love like his.”
“Will loved himself.”
“And Faith.
” She stared at the crumpled paper. “I think they were together for longer than three years.”
“We’ll never know. Will lied to justify an affair, and he obviously wants you to congratulate him for his brief self-control.”
“I can understand—just barely—not being able to control their feelings, but didn’t either of them ever hear of divorce?”
“Will avoided public scandal. It wasn’t good for his company, but more than that—he didn’t believe he could do anything wrong. They were afraid and ashamed, and Will wasn’t man enough to admit your problems were his fault, too.”
“Too?” She pulled away and tugged down the hem of her sweater. “You don’t believe what he said about me being repressed?”
Light glinted from Ben’s eyes for the first time since she’d been back. “I’m glad it pissed you off,” he said.
She hated to encourage him with a smile. “Why don’t you go downstairs? I’m going to wash my face and then I plan to eat until I can’t move.”
He went without argument. Isabel tucked the letter into an inner pocket in her suitcase. Then she splashed her face with cold water until she looked less as if she’d been crying. Then she hurried to the kitchen where her family had gathered at the table. “Everything looks great, Mom. Shiny and bright.”
Her dad stood. “Your mother cleaned a bit this afternoon. She made me help her.”
“Good going, Mom.”
“If he’s not careful, we may start on the closets.” Her mother smiled, but it was obviously an effort. Though grief and exhaustion strained her face, she still tried to be cheerful.
Tony beat his spoon against his bowl. “Iz-bell,” he said, as happy as if she were a Christmas present.
She searched for a non-soupy patch of skin to kiss. “Hey, you—heart of my heart.” She kissed, tasted and then grinned at her mother. “I love corn chowder.”
“I’m sorry about the brisket, but I thought this made a nice substitute. We can all use comfort food.”
Isabel sat down. “I feel like a slacker, getting here in time to eat but not to help.”
“You already have a big job, and I was glad to tidy up and make dinner.” Her mother offered Ben her strange, sad warmth. “The sooner this house feels like a home again, the better for our men.”
“I appreciate the way the house looks, and dinner is delicious.” Ben scooped a spoonful of soup and offered it to his son. “But you don’t have to take care of us, Amelia. Try to enjoy playing with Tony.”
“Your mom and Tony went to the park this afternoon,” Isabel’s father said as if he hadn’t told her before. “They played on the slide and climbed the jungle gym,” he said.
“I held Tony up to the bars. He grabbed and then dangled.” Her mom tried another smile. “Your father’s trying to advise you not to worry about me. I’ll be back to normal soon.”
“Normal’s a concept none of us is familiar with right now.”
“What did Will’s letter say?” Amelia asked.
Accidentally, Isabel looked at Ben before an answer came into her head. “He wanted to let me know how the business was going.” He’d hardly ever shared business news with her during seven years of marriage. She hoped she’d been too repressed to complain about it to her mother.
Apparently so. Her mom nodded, and her dad joined in. Isabel took advantage of the opening to spew a step-by-step report of all she’d done at her own house. While relating every move she’d made, she helped Ben feed Tony so he could take the occasional bite himself.
“This is delicious, Mom. I was starving.”
“Were you, honey?” Her appetite pleased her mother. “I thought solid and warm.” She passed a plate of jalapeño cheese bread. “And what’s a carbohydrate or two among family?”
After dinner, Isabel volunteered to clean the kitchen. Ben swept Tony off for a bath—trailing bits of corn behind him. She heard him speaking in the family room. The low rumble of his voice drew her to the open kitchen doorway.
“Come help us, Amelia. Tony loves company at bath time.”
“You think? George, did you want to leave anytime soon?”
“We’re not under curfew. You go ahead.”
Before they could catch her eavesdropping, Isabel busied herself with dishes, scrubbing a little harder than she needed to, giving in to adrenaline rather than reverencing Faith’s china.
Ben might be trying to turn himself into a cruel, distrustful man, but inside, his compassionate heart still beat. He’d invited her mom to help with Tony because he knew how much she needed a connection to her grandson.
But Isabel thought back to last night. Didn’t Ben realize Tony could remind her mother to live again?
Once again caught between her best friend and her parents, Isabel launched an attack on the cluttered counters. She could become everyone’s enemy in the time it took to put the truth about Faith and Will into words.
Her parents wouldn’t understand why she hadn’t told them. Ben would cut her out of his and Tony’s life if she did. Unless her parents took the baby from him.
And could she bear that? Hadn’t Ben lost enough because of her family?
The black granite counters gleamed under Isabel’s scrubbing. She tucked every superfluous appliance away, dried the dishes and returned them to their cabinets.
Water ran overhead, and laughter rang out. Isabel smiled, imagining her mother wrestling Tony into the tub. No one ever gave him enough floaty toys. Plus, he loved to write on the tub with crayon soap. The tub and himself and any unsuspecting soul foolhardy enough to come near him.
Finally Isabel threw the damp dish towels down the laundry chute and loaded the coffeemaker with ground beans and water for the morning.
All the while she prayed her parents would leave and Ben would stay immersed in the cycle of lullabies Tony demanded each night. A clear path up the stairs to her room would solve her most immediate problems. She knew too much and she didn’t want to talk to anyone.
After the din of splashing and laughter finally died down, she crept to the family room. Her father set his paper in his lap.
“Tired?” he asked.
“Exhausted. I’m going to bed.”
“Are you okay? Is it too hard going into your old house?”
Difficult because she’d lost everything marriage brought a couple—intimacy, trust, happiness. But her father couldn’t know she’d barely had those things with Will.
“It’s not fun, but I have to sell the place, and Leah wants her belongings back. I can’t blame her. They remind her of Will and her husband.”
“You should set them aside and make her come get them.”
“I’d rather handle it myself.” She smiled without seeing anything funny in the image of Leah whirling like the Tasmanian devil through the house, collecting goods along the way. “Night.” She kissed his papery cheek. “I love you, Dad.”
“You know how much your mother and I love you. We’re distracted right now because of Faith, but don’t feel we loved her more.”
That might be true for him. Faith had definitely been her mother’s favorite. Isabel believed she’d learned to take second place in stride, but sometimes she wondered if she was keeping the secret in some unconscious act of revenge.
Like a cat burglar, she hurried to her room. As she passed the nursery, peals of her mother’s laughter all but pinned her to the wall. She’d heard that sound so many times in her teenage years, reminding her she and her mom didn’t have the ease her mother and Faith had shared.
“Ben, be careful,” she said in a whisper.
BEN WOKE before light was more than a blue shadow between the drapes at his window. He’d wrestled with dreams of chasing Faith, fighting Will, to take back his son.
And always, Isabel stood to the side in nightmare indifference, refusing to act for him but making no move against him. He suspected more than exhaustion had made her turn in early last night.
She’d been glad to see him and Tony leave her house
yesterday and then she’d sent him downstairs ahead of her after they’d read the letter. He’d assumed she wanted to compose herself, but something more might be driving her.
He tried to remember Will’s letter, but all he’d taken from it was the fact that his so-called best friend hadn’t truly wanted Tony, and that Will and Faith had blamed him and Isabel for everything that had gone wrong.
Lies. He’d take his fair share of blame, but no man forced his wife to sleep with her sister’s husband.
Lies? Ben pushed back his bedding. Isabel’s one refrain since she’d come back had been a refusal to live with lies. She might be right about the inevitability of his situation. If her mother had read that letter yesterday, the truth about Tony would have come out.
He rubbed cold sweat off his forehead and crossed the room to open his door. Isabel’s was closed still.
Relief swamped him. Uneasily, he admitted that she might not have his worst interests at heart. She was trying to help him, though she obviously felt uncomfortable not telling her parents the truth.
He had to make sure she wasn’t changing her mind.
He glanced at Tony’s door and then looked back at the clock in his room. Last night, in the middle of Tony’s enthusiastic bath, Amelia had suggested she and George might take him downtown to the Smithsonian. He’d agreed but half expected she’d call to cancel when the apathy of grief took over again this morning. But he needed to talk to Isabel. With any luck Amelia would still want time with her grandson more than she’d want to be alone with her pain and her husband.
For a second, he wondered what it would be like to depend on another human being when you’d lost everything else that mattered, but he had no time to feel sorrier for himself. He showered and went downstairs to start Tony’s breakfast. After the Deavers showed up and then left with Tony, he’d face Isabel with his doubts.
She’d get the look that told him he was hounding her. She’d remind him they were only putting off the inevitable, but he was willing to take the chance that he could keep his son’s birth father a secret for the next sixteen-and-a-half years.