Designing Hearts

by Robin Strachan

  She held her head high, unwilling to let anyone see the fear or devastation she felt to her core. She parked as close to the house as possible, intent on sprinting to the front door. Before she could get the car door fully open, a female reporter who looked vaguely familiar thrust a microphone in her face.

  “Mrs. Hennessy, would you care to comment on the statement made by Amber James that she and your husband have been having an affair?”

  “I haven’t yet spoken with my husband,” she said, wanting to give David the benefit of the doubt, but realizing that she sounded naïve.

  Amber James. It was a name she recognized, although it took her a moment to bring the image of the other woman to mind. Young. Pretty, with long blonde hair. One of his assistants.

  Jill steeled herself. No matter what, she still had her pride. She was an intelligent, successful woman who cared deeply about her family. She would hold her head high, learn the truth straight from David’s mouth, and then decide how to handle the situation. Whatever happened, she would remember that it was important to be dignified and strong. She was her mother’s daughter, and it was time to stand tall.

  “Mrs. Hennessy, can you confirm that your husband and Miss James have been romantically involved since last year?”

  “I can’t confirm anything right now.”

  “What are you planning to do next?” one of the reporters asked.

  “I’m planning to go into my house, if you’ll excuse me,” she said, shock turning to indignation as she ducked under the microphone and pressed through the photographers and reporters blocking her path.

  Turning to glance again left and right as she moved toward the front steps, she saw more neighbors standing on their porches and in their front yards. There was curiosity and yes, sympathy, visible on some faces, shock and anger on others. Despite David’s long-time celebrity status, the Hennessy family had always lived private lives. Nothing like this had ever happened on Briar Lane.

  “Please stay off our property,” she stated as loudly as her tremulous voice would allow, hands fumbling frantically for her house key. As she reached the entry, David flung open the door and pulled her inside.

  He embraced her, then stepped back to look at her ashen complexion. “Jill, it’s not what you think.”

  Jill stared at him in amazement and the beginning of outrage. “I think we have a mess on our hands,” she said, putting her purse on the table in the foyer. “I think you owe me an explanation. I think I’ve been made to look like a fool, for starters. That’s what I think. Or are you trying to tell me you’re innocent?”

  She walked away from him and began closing all the plantation shutters at the front of the house. David went into the kitchen. When he returned, he handed her a vodka martini with three olives—his specialty. “Here, drink this.”

  Jill accepted the martini without tasting it and plunked it down on the coffee table. “This isn’t exactly cocktail time, David. I hope you don’t think a martini is the best way to greet me when there are paparazzi, reporters, and our neighbors watching us like we’re on a reality show. For God’s sake, you know how much I hate living in a fishbowl! The public, my parents, and probably even our sons know what’s going on, but I’m just learning about it now from a television announcement? How could you?” Tears blinded her and streamed down her face.

  “First of all, she means nothing to me. You’re my wife and I love you.”

  “Is this the way you admit the truth—that something was going on?” Jill asked indignantly, her eyes flashing. “Apparently, she means something to you!”

  “What happened means nothing. It’s regrettable. You have to believe me.”

  Jill was so outraged, she was shaking. “It’s ‘regrettable?’ I can’t believe you just said that. After all the years we’ve been married, I’ve never, until this moment, realized that I have absolutely no idea who you are.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m the same man I’ve always been.” David’s expression darkened and his mouth settled into a hard, thin line.

  Yet a hint of something deeper, less certain, fleetingly crossed his face. Was it despair? She thought for a moment he might crumple to the floor before he regained his composure. The sight of an expression that wasn’t his usual arrogant self-confidence was oddly comforting to Jill and caused her to soften for a moment.

  “David, I’ve never even worried about anything like this. I’ve always trusted you. I’m hurt and I’m shocked, but I’m mostly disappointed … in you.”

  Running his fingers through his immaculately styled hair, David blew out a long breath. “I don’t know what to do, Jill.” He looked at her plaintively. “We’ve been through so much together.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “We can get through this. We need to think of our sons. I’ve called Finn and Liam to tell them to stay out of the spotlight as much as possible and that everything will be okay. We’ll all be okay. Honey, this will blow over and we can rebuild our marriage. You’ll see.” David gulped his drink, looking up at her in desperation. “The public’s memory is very short.”

  “Unfortunately, mine is not.” Picking up her martini glass, Jill flung the contents in his face and left the room.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning, David, who had slept in the downstairs guest room, waited to be picked up by the network limousine. He managed to look calm and unruffled as he adjusted his silk tie in the hallway mirror. “I made coffee,” he announced, handing her a cup. “You take cream and one sugar, right?”

  She gave him a withering glance. “I haven’t put sugar in my coffee for years. You must be thinking of someone else.”

  He didn’t flinch, although a look of wariness crossed his face as he put her cup down on the hallway table in front of her. His manner was so calm that Jill was caught off guard. In fact, there was nothing at all in his demeanor to indicate that he was about to spend the day defending his honor to the American public.

  Jill’s eyes were like boiled onions, her nose swollen and raw from a sleepless night of soul-twisting pain. She knew she looked terrible. Her favorite pink plush robe had seen better days. Her feet were bare, her hair was mussed, and she wore no makeup. But for once, she didn’t care how David saw her. As he prepared to embrace her, she stood stiff and straight, arms folded tight across her chest.

  “I understand how upset you are, sweetheart.” He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “It’s the worst thing we’ve ever endured, but we’ll get through it together. I promise it will never happen again. And I want you to know that you won’t have to go through this alone. Someone from the network will be in touch to provide counsel and some directions. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Then we can talk about what to do next.”

  “Directions for what? Is that how we’re handling this, David?” Her eyes bore into his as pain seared her chest, a feeling suspiciously like a glowing piece of charcoal wedged next to her heart.

  “Jill, we need help. This kind of thing has to be managed by experts. We’ll get counseling and whatever else we need to get through this.” He touched her cheek. “Whatever you need will be provided.” Something about the polished, patient tone of his voice reminded Jill of all the times she had listened to him encourage and coax a news source to provide a more thorough answer to a difficult question.

  “Whatever I need,” she repeated in a monotone. “Of course, the network thinks it can manage me in this situation. I’m just collateral damage. Our marriage has become part of who and what you are—a valuable network commodity. Okay, I get it, but I don’t have to like it or accept it.”

  He sighed. “I’m in the public eye, Jill, and that means you are, too. I know how hard this is, believe me. I’m already dealing with more hell than you could ever imagine. We’ll be guided through this until it’s over.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I promise everything will be okay.”

  It took a few moments after the front door shut behind him for Jill to realize that not once had David said, “I’m sorry.”
Although he had called the affair “regrettable,” she wondered whether it was too much to expect a heartfelt apology from one’s spouse for such a gross infraction of their marital vows. Flipping the lock on the oak door, she fastened the heavy deadbolt, peering through one of the cut-glass side windows at his retreating figure. She wondered how she would get through the coming days, or if she even wanted to. As she watched David walk confidently to the limo, stopping to speak briefly to a raven-haired female field reporter from a competing network, Jill saw that the media gaggle was getting stirred up again on the street.

  She wasn’t surprised a few moments later to see her mother’s champagne-colored Buick Regal appear in the driveway. As she exited the car, Nancy Brenneman took a quick backward glance over one shoulder and hot-footed it to the front porch steps. Two reporters, one laboring under a huge video camera, emerged from a van and hurried to catch up with her. But Nancy, who carried a basket with a red-checked cloth napkin covering its contents, was too quick for them.

  “Just making a delivery!” she told them with a cheery smile and disappeared into the house. “I thought you might need sustenance,” she said, as she handed the basket to Jill. “I’ve brought fresh muffins and scones—lemon curd and your favorite, cinnamon-honey butter. I figured you’re not up to eating much right now, but maybe this would taste good to you.”

  “Thanks, Mom, but this isn’t exactly like having a bad cold, and I’m not seven.”

  “You’re still my daughter, and I say you need to keep up your strength.”

  Nancy Brenneman was a celebrity in her own right, although most people wouldn’t know it from looking at her. She wrote a popular syndicated household hints column, Nancy Knows, which provided advice on a wealth of topics from housework to gardening, lawn care to car care, and money-saving green tips for every household. Well past the normal age for retirement, she still showed no signs of slowing down. Her most recent book, a compilation of readers’ favorite columns, was titled Nancy Knows: Keeping it Clean and Green.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Jill said as she was swept into her mother’s arms and her face peppered with concerned kisses. “You’re lucky they didn’t catch up with you outside. That would give them a whole new bunch of headlines: ‘Nancy knows everything, except son-in-law’s infidelity.’ ”

  Nancy chimed in, “‘Nancy knows, but how much?’ Or what about this one—‘What advice does Nancy have for cleaning up her own family’s mess?’ ”

  They managed a weak laugh together before falling silent. Jill’s eyes were downcast now, tears beading on her lashes. Her mother’s hand gently touched her cheek and lingered there. Jill raised her eyes, noticing that Nancy’s face suddenly appeared years older. Her lips trembled, revealing the depth of her concern. In her mother’s eyes Jill saw a reflection of her own pain.

  “Sorry I didn’t call you and Dad last night, Mom, but I couldn’t talk. David kept trying to assure me that everything will be okay, but how can it be? This all feels so unreal, as if I’ll wake up at any moment and find out it was just a nightmare.”

  “You look feverish.” Nancy placed her cool palm across Jill’s forehead.

  “I don’t think I’m sick … heartsick, yes,” Jill answered in a nasal voice as she tried to inhale the aroma of the basket’s contents. “Actually, now I’m moving right along from devastated to pissed off.” She offered her mother a wan smile and wiped her nose with a tissue, wincing at the soreness.

  “Well, anger is a rung above depression on the ladder of emotions. I see you’re helping David organize his belongings,” her mother said, biting her lower lip. She’d noticed the pile of suitcases Jill had removed from the hall closet.

  “I think it’s best if he lives someplace else for a while. I can’t bear to look at him right now, and as long as he’s here, we’ll have that going on outside.” She opened one side of the plantation shutters and indicated several members of the media sitting on the grassy knoll, drinking Starbucks, their cameras ready for the next big photo opportunity. “They’ll be here,” she paused, frowning, “until David isn’t.”

  “I assume you’ve seen some of the coverage,” her mother said as she headed for the kitchen.

  “Actually, I haven’t,” Jill said with a heavy sigh. “I started to log on to my laptop this morning, but just couldn’t deal with reading something I knew would make me feel even worse. I’m sure the morning shows are having a heyday with this. How big of a loser do I appear to be?”

  Nancy shrugged. “You’re not the one who deserves to be judged. I’m sure there are people who will be curious whether you’re going to play the role of the jilted wife who stands by her man. People who are quick to judge a situation that is none of their business are not the ones who count. Just for the record, Dad and I don’t have an opinion about what you should do. This is your life, your choice. But you know, with the public’s appetite for drama, this could go on for a while. I must say, that little trollop, Amber, has some nerve. She probably wanted to advance her career in television the easy way. But then again, it takes two to tangle. Obviously, David was thinking more with his little head than his big one.”

  Jill let out a guffaw. She never knew what kind of outlandish statement might come out of her mother’s mouth. “Mom, you and your expressions …. I have to admit, though, there was plenty of drama.” She remembered David’s shocked face as he mopped the martini from his hair, face, and designer shirt.

  “I’m much more worried about Finn and Liam than about myself right now,” she continued, moving quickly toward the phone. “David said he called both of them yesterday, but I haven’t heard a peep out of either one of the boys yet.” She experienced a new wave of fury. “David didn’t say he actually talked with them. What if they found out what’s going on the same way the rest of America did?” Feeling suddenly murderous toward David, Jill picked up the remote phone from its cradle and punched the speed dial for Liam’s cellphone.

  He answered on the first ring. “Mom, are you okay?”

  “I’ve been better,” she admitted. “What about you? How did you find out?”

  “Google alert. I’m really pissed at Dad. He called again this morning, but I’m ignoring him. What an asshole!” Liam was never one to mince words. “I talked with Finn last night right after the story aired at five o’clock. Missy was pretty upset, so Finn decided to stay home with her. We thought it was probably best to leave you and Dad alone to talk. Mom, did you even know this Amber?” Liam uttered the name with distaste.

  “I knew she was a production assistant on the show. I met her at the holiday party last year. I thought she was cute, although she reminded me of a Barbie doll—you know, too big up top for the tiny waistline. I expected her to tip over.” Jill shook off the thought. “She’s young for your father, but he’s not the first man to fall for a younger woman with, um, impressive features. Then again, he’s always been irresistible to women.” She felt a heaviness descend on her. “I should know.”

  As she continued stealing surreptitious glances through the plantation shutters, she saw Liam’s twin, Finn, bounding across the front lawn. She quickly opened the door and greeted him with a one-armed hug. “I’m on the phone with your brother.”

  “Tell him to get his butt over here fast. We need a united front.” Finn waited by the door while his mother finished talking with Liam.

  “Tell Finn I heard that. I’m crossing over into Connecticut now,” Liam said. “Will I need a stick to beat my way to the door?”

  “Now there’s an idea,” Jill replied. “Bring a big one.” She hung up as Finn gently pulled her into his arms, his cheek resting atop her head. Jill relaxed into her son’s strong, loving embrace.

  The phone rang again, and Finn reluctantly released her. Jill noticed the number on caller ID. “It’s the network,” she said, taking a ragged breath.

  Nancy rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. “Spin time.”

  “Yes?” Jill answered crisply after the second ring. She didn’t th
ink that the solicitous tone she generally reserved for contact with her husband’s producer was required of her on this occasion.

  “Jill, this is Bob. I thought I might catch David at home. How are you holding up?” Bob wasn’t a bad guy, but the word ‘insincere’ always came to Jill’s mind whenever she talked with him.

  She was incensed. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not holding up that well. Oh, and David just left. I’m sure you can reach him on his cellphone.”

  There was a long pause before Bob spoke. “Of course, this is a terrible shock for you, Jill. I just want you to know that we’re hurting right along with you and that we’re here to defend David and support you, along with your family, throughout the coming months. We know this type of situation can be devastating. We’ll do whatever it takes to help you and David support each other.”

  Now Jill understood. “David tells me that you’ll provide counseling and whatever other services I need.”

  “Of course. Anything you request. Just name it.”

  “I might need a good divorce lawyer.”

  Her biting comment had the desired effect. Bob was silent for a moment. “Of course, we’re talking about therapy or communications assistance. You’re very upset, of course, but we know you’ll get through this just fine. You’re a strong woman, Jill, and you and David have been married a long time. Think about your sons. Take heart that David is a precious commodity, and we’ll protect his interests. Caring for him means caring for his family.” He stressed the word ‘family.’

  “I get it,” Jill answered. “Don’t worry about me, Bob. I’ll be fine.” She hung up and leaned her head wearily against the kitchen wall. Nancy enveloped her daughter in her arms, smoothed her hair, and whispered encouragement when fresh tears flowed.

  Finn handed his mother a tissue. “Blow,” he said.

  Jill let out a hollow laugh as Finn, a new physician’s assistant, led her to sit down at the kitchen table and patted her back. Within twenty minutes, Liam arrived, followed by Missy, Finn’s bride of just four months. Jill absently fingered the teaspoon resting on her saucer while Nancy poured a bracing cup of tea for her, adding just the right amount of milk and sugar. Jill glanced around the table and suddenly realized that no one had gone to work. In fact, she hadn’t even remembered to call her own office to let them know she wouldn’t be in today.