Designing Hearts

  “Shouldn’t you all be at work?” she asked.

  Liam, a commodities trader in the financial district, shrugged. “I can be gone for a day. We can only assume that Dad’s fall from greatness won’t affect the world marketplace too much.” It was a family tradition to use sarcastic humor to diffuse difficulties, and Liam was a master at it. He took a gulp of tea before adding, “The timing of this is bad, of course. The U.S. economy is still recovering.”

  Finn exchanged worried glances with Missy, a registered nurse. “Actually, we both need to get to work soon, but we can be a little late, given the situation.”

  Jill rubbed her eyes. “How long can this drama possibly last?”

  “Three and a half weeks is standard,” Nancy said matter-of-factly. “The public’s attention span wanes after that.”

  Missy flashed a worried look at Finn and sputtered, “Are you serious, Gran?”

  “Actually, she’s probably right, honey. You have to remember that your father-in-law is one of Celebrity magazine’s sexiest men alive,” Jill said dryly. “Every female in America who still has a pulse will want constant updates for a while.”

  “Not to mention a percentage of gay men.” Liam grinned wickedly at his twin.

  Finn reacted to Liam’s comment with a snort before saying in a subdued tone, “Sorry, Mom.”

  Jill offered her sons a smile, even as she raised one eyebrow in mock reprimand. She was glad the somber mood had begun to lift, but there was still an important unanswered question in her mind. “Did either of you guys suspect anything was going on with your father?” She tried to phrase the question as if the answer didn’t matter one way or another. The reality was very different. If David had sworn their sons to secrecy, forcing them to remain silent in order to protect her, she would show him no mercy.

  Liam stared off into space and let out a long breath. “I saw Dad and a young woman together at a sidewalk café about four months ago. Brian convinced me not to go over and talk to them. He thought it would be awkward … because Dad said he didn’t want to meet Brian.”

  “And you never told Dad what you saw?” Finn asked, shaking his head. “You never told me, either. Why not?”

  “You know I don’t talk to Dad.” Liam frowned at his brother and then turned to Jill. “I didn’t think it was in anyone’s best interest, especially yours, Mom. Once I said something like that, I wouldn’t have been able to take it back. And what if it was nothing? Brian said it might be a business dinner.”

  “Do you think Dad is going through a midlife crisis or something?” Finn asked.

  “That ‘midlife crisis’ excuse is crap,” Liam snapped, fixing an impatient look on Finn, who shrugged. “I’m sure Dad is just flexing his celebrity muscles. There might’ve been other affairs, too, for all we know.”

  “We don’t know that.” Nancy, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet as her grandsons spoke, met Jill’s eyes.

  Jill yanked a used tissue out of the sleeve of her robe and gingerly swabbed at her sore nostrils. “It doesn’t matter whether he’s had one affair or more than that,” she said. “He’s broken my trust. I don’t think things can ever be the same between us.”

  “Give it some time. Perhaps with counseling, the two of you can repair your marriage,” Nancy said in a soothing voice.

  “But what’s love without trust?” Jill asked, her blue eyes pooling again.

  She took a sip of tea to clear the lump in her throat that threatened to take away her breath. She watched Finn take Missy’s hand as if to say, I will never do this to you. Jill leaned over and put her arm around her daughter-in-law’s thin shoulders. Missy’s cornflower-blue eyes were red-rimmed. She twirled her finger around a blonde ringlet, and at that moment she looked ten years younger than her twenty-four years.

  “We’ll all get through this. You’ll see,” Jill assured her.

  It wasn’t until Jill was left alone to shower and take a nap that she remembered she still hadn’t checked in with her office. It was odd that Tom Becker hadn’t been in touch yet this morning. She called the company’s main phone number and punched in Tom’s extension.

  “Tom, I’m taking a few days off,” she said without preamble.

  “I guessed that. How are you?”

  “Okay until the next wave of shock hits and I fall apart again,” she admitted. “The business doesn’t need this kind of publicity. I’m really sorry.”

  “Hey, any publicity is good publicity,” Tom said in his usual bland tone. “I’m sorry, Jill. Forgive that remark. I feel bad about what you’re going through. Don’t worry about a thing. Just take whatever time you need.”

  “If anyone calls me in the next couple of days, tell them to leave a message on my cellphone.” She swore she could hear the words that hung unspoken on the other end of the line.

  Tom let out a long breath. “Jill, don’t forget I was your friend before we became business partners. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

  Hot new tears formed, and she blinked them back. “I appreciate that. Friends and family are what I need most right now.”

  “I don’t want to see you until Monday at the earliest, unless you need something. Do you hear me?”

  “I’m listening. Thanks,” she said and replaced the phone in the handset.

  Jill and Tom had met freshman year in college and had taken many of the same classes, often studying together in the library. In fact, if it hadn’t been for David’s appearance in her life sophomore year, she and Tom might have drifted together as a couple. He was a widower now. Tom’s wife, Janice, had died suddenly from a brain aneurysm just four years ago.

  Jill stared off into space, contemplating whether to check in with Monica, too, but she knew (even if Monica didn’t say it) that her assistant was probably thinking, I told you so, and rejected the idea of calling her in favor of taking a hot bubble bath. Then she got busy. When David returned home late that afternoon, she greeted him at the front door with five suitcases.

  “What’s this?” he asked, sounding stricken.

  But Jill could see the restrained, fully prepared look in his eyes. She kept in mind that she was the one betrayed and that there had been a string of lies for a year or more that had gotten them to this moment. She steeled herself before speaking, amazed that she could sound so strong when her insides were like jelly.

  “It’s better if you go someplace else. I need space to think,” she said and couldn’t resist adding, “I’m sure Amber would love for you to stay with her.”

  “I told you, I’m not in a relationship with Amber. It was just sex, Jill. Stupid of me, but that’s the truth. How can I make you believe that?”

  She froze in her tracks, shocked at the callousness in his voice and his uncharacteristically devil-may-care attitude toward infidelity. “Well, then go have sex,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  “Jill!” He moved toward her, but the fierce look on her face stopped him in his tracks.

  “Don’t touch me.” She fixed him with a hard stare. “I’ve always been the kind of woman who believes in fixing whatever is broken, rather than simply giving up. But the damage you’ve done to us may be beyond repair. I’ll have to think about it.” She turned on her heel and left him standing alone by the front door.

  Jill realized, as she moved woodenly through the next few days, that even if neither of them had ever acknowledged it before, their marriage was as much a part of David’s public persona as his ability to touch hearts with a memorable interview, celebrity or not. David was the epitome of American manhood: handsome, successful, moral—and married with two sons. His fall from grace threw an entirely unwholesome cast upon what had been heretofore an unsullied icon. David was now officially a cheating husband with a wife who had thrown him out of his own home.

  Chapter Four

  After David was gone, the blitzkrieg of media interest outside fizzled after about three days. Jill was vastly relieved. There were still dozens of messages on the home
answering machine from friends and relatives, but she generally chose to ignore them. She had no idea how to answer their questions, and the prospect of returning so many calls was exhausting. Instead, she sent quick text messages. She nibbled at meals brought over by neighbors, finished several of David’s most valuable bottles of wine, and cocooned inside the house, alternating between watching home design shows and wandering from room to room. She had no desire to do anything other than sleep.

  She tried to avoid watching entertainment talk shows and reading popular news stories because of the coverage of David’s affair and his move from their home, but sometimes they just jumped out at her. Even worse were the speculative stories about what might happen next—reconciliation or divorce. In the one tabloid story, the photo of Jill was as unbecoming as the photo on her driver’s license. It was a not-so-subtle implication that she wasn’t attractive enough for David. In another story, a photo of David was arranged between photos of Jill and Amber. The headline read, “Love Triangle Jilts Jill.” Jill had a firm policy of not talking with the media regarding David, but knew that any news reports or publicity would be one-sided as a result.

  All she wished now was to return to a point early in their marriage, when everything was as she believed it to be. Should she have taken whatever measures were necessary to protect and preserve her marriage? Yet she had to acknowledge that this kind of oversight necessitated suspicion and jealousy, resulting in fear that any attractive female could be a potential threat. That had never been her style. No, what she really wanted now was to feel secure in a man’s love—to know that he could be trusted with her heart.

  It took several days for the neighborhood to return to normal. Cars still made their way slowly down the street, drivers and passengers craning their necks for a look at the Hennessy house. It was easy to keep the shutters closed and stay safely indoors, but Jill felt embarrassed by her public marital troubles in her neighborhood. Rosewood Estates was a stable neighborhood where most residents had lived for decades, a place where families shared the bounties of their gardens and kept an eye on one another’s children. But while Jill enjoyed a close relationship with their neighbors on Briar Lane, she realized that David had remained a virtual neighbor, existing mostly on their television screens. Now it occurred to her that perhaps he had also been her virtual husband. She wondered if others thought the same.

  On Sunday, Finn and Missy arrived for dinner, as usual, bearing one of Missy’s lattice-topped golden cherry pies. Liam appeared later with Brian, unwrapping an enormous loaf of crusty sourdough bread and a bottle of Jill’s favorite cabernet sauvignon. Jill had a pan of lasagna in the oven and was tossing a salad when she heard the cheery voices of her offspring.

  As she accepted the offerings of food and wine, Jill couldn’t help thinking of David: the way he often stood at the kitchen island filching slices of fresh bread and dipping them in olive oil, a goblet of red wine in his hand, as he talked expansively on a topic that was of current interest to him.

  “Good bread plus good wine equals a good time,” was his favorite saying.

  Even though he had missed most meals at home over the past year, Jill was aware that he was notably absent tonight. She was determined to have family time regardless. And now that David was gone from their home, Liam was willing to come to dinner because Brian was welcome. They had not felt welcome together whenever David was present.

  Brian sat down at the baby grand piano and entertained everyone with snippets of songs he had written for a new Broadway musical, Elephants in the Room. Brian was a gifted pianist, songwriter, and fanatic Mets season ticket holder. He was also twelve years older than Liam—and clearly sensitive on the subject. He had been headlining at a popular restaurant and suffering the throes of unrequited love from a recent breakup when Liam Hennessy appeared. Liam was attracted to Brian’s quick wit as he entertained customers, as well as his tall, sandy-haired good looks. Brian’s first impulse was to reject Liam solely on the basis of their obvious age difference, but Liam’s persistence paid off. After dating exclusively for two years, they were now living together in Brian’s Greenwich Village apartment.

  “What kind of foo-ool ignores elephants in the room,” Brian sang in his rich baritone while Finn and Missy draped themselves over the baby grand. Liam remained in the kitchen to help Jill with the meal.

  “Have you spoken with your dad yet?” she asked as Liam slathered the cut sides of the loaf of bread with herbed butter generously laced with roasted garlic.

  “What for? Dad called this afternoon, but I was busy. I did call him back, though, and left a message. I told him how hard it’s been for all of us and that I hope she was worth it.”

  Jill raised her eyebrows. “And have you heard back from him since then?”

  “Of course not. Dad talked to Finn yesterday. He said, and I’m not paraphrasing, ‘Your mother is making this more difficult than it needs to be.’ ”

  Jill stood rooted in place, bracing herself against the wall as Liam’s words sunk in. Was it possible that David truly did not comprehend the unspeakable cruelty in his comment? How could he be so thoughtless, so completely self-centered? His actions had caused pain and suffering to someone he claimed to love, and yet, he didn’t think she needed—or deserved—time to recover? Although she was accustomed to David’s selfishness, this was beyond anything Jill could fathom coming from him. Was it possible Liam had misunderstood?

  Jill shook her head in disbelief. “Those were his exact words?”

  “It’s all about what Dad wants. Has he apologized to you yet?”

  “He’s still having difficulty saying those exact words. I think it’s because he doesn’t fully realize that his actions have had consequences, or how much he’s hurt all of us.”

  Liam waved the long, serrated breadknife in the air. “You always give him a pass, Mom. No matter what he does, you find an excuse for it.” His jaw worked furiously. “What you’ve never been able to see is that Dad thinks of you as an extension of him. Your feelings don’t matter as long as you accommodate whatever it is he wants.”

  Jill bit the inside of her mouth, drawing blood, as his words hit a raw nerve. Liam stabbed the knife through the crusty bread, making a loud noise as it hit the wood cutting board. “It goes to show how little attention he pays to you or your interests or accomplishments. It used to piss me off that you held everything together at home while he was free to come and go as he pleased. Finn and I grew up with a father who was MIA.”

  Jill leaned against the counter as she considered Liam’s words. “I realize it must seem like I always make excuses for him. To be honest, I thought I was doing the right thing by holding him up in the best possible light, for the sake of you and Finn. I wanted you to have good growing-up memories with your dad.” She chose her words carefully. “But maybe standing up for him as I did was also what I needed in order to feel better about him, about us.” She paused, drawing a deep breath. “I was wrong.”

  She carefully removed Liam’s fingers from the knife and set it aside before wrapping her arms around her son’s waist. She laid her head on his broad chest and heard the powerful beating of his heart. “Someday, I hope your dad will realize how much he missed. But I need to say this: if I have failed, in any way, to do or say or be what you or your brother needed where your father is concerned, I’m deeply sorry.”

  “I don’t hold you responsible at all for Dad’s mistakes. I certainly won’t hold my breath for Dad to suddenly get a clue about how he failed at fatherhood,” Liam said. “I hate that this is happening to you, but to tell you the truth, I’ll be really mad—at you, Mom—if you allow him to come home.” Liam gave his mother a fierce hug and stepped back.

  Out of habit, she reached up to smooth the dark brown hair from his forehead and watched as he impulsively shook it out of place again. As an infant and toddler, Liam had resisted being held. He was a child always on the move, while Finn, the quieter of the twins, had been content to observe Liam’s
antics from the safety of Jill’s hip. From the time the twins were old enough to display distinct personalities, Liam had always been a mini version of David. In fact, looking at her handsome son now, as he stood so tall before her, Jill thought Liam had never looked more like a younger version of David. It suddenly occurred to her that the very fact that Liam looked so much like his father might be part of David’s negativity toward Liam. Was it possible that David was threatened by the fact that his gay son was nearly a mirror image of his younger self? Did David think this reflected something about his own manhood?

  Jill took a sip of her wine. “It’s too soon to know what I’ll do, but I have to believe that he’s truly sorry. At the same time, I don’t want this to permanently affect yours or Finn’s relationship with your dad.”

  “Don’t make this about Finn and me, Mom—especially me. Since he found out I’m gay, he could care less whether I’m here or not. I think you need to understand that as far as Dad is concerned, the world revolves around him. I don’t think he’s capable of that kind of depth. Frankly, I doubt he’ll ever understand what he’s done to you.”

  He jerked away from her touch and leaned against the kitchen island. “When I told him about Brian, Dad asked whether I realized the effect my news might have on others. He meant himself, of course. You were dealing with it in a way that told me you cared more about me than what anyone else thought. You’ve always been great to Brian. Then Dad said it could just be a phase and I might grow out of it, and that I shouldn’t talk about it, just in case. He still refuses to meet Brian.” An angry look crossed Liam’s face. “Imagine what his public would think if they knew David Hennessy has a gay son. Maybe I should offer to give an interview: ‘My Life as David Hennessy’s Secret Gay Son.’ ”