The Good Wife (30 page)

“Good. His job has him working graveyard, and I’m teaching summer school, but I’m almost done, and he’s hoping to get a week off in August so we can go on vacation.” Kit sat lower in the water to stay cool. “I think we’ll go to Texas.”

“Texas?”

Kit floated up. “Go see Delilah.” She saw Sarah’s puzzled expression. “My student. Her stepdad was the one who was really abusive.”

“That’s right. He and her mother left her. Can’t imagine just abandoning your child.” Sarah reached for Ella and pushed soggy dark brown hair from her eyes. Ella was not as comfortable in the water as her brother. Somehow, in the pool, she always managed to resemble a drowned rat. “How is your student doing?”

“Getting by. Still hoping her mom will send for her. I hope her mom doesn’t. Delilah’s better with Shey and Dane. They’re stable and loving and Delilah’s safe there. They won’t let anything happen to her.”

“Where do you think her mom is?”

Kit shook her head. “I don’t know. But we did learn that her stepdad, Howard, isn’t working for Chevron anymore. Chevron won’t talk about it, but they let him go.”

“So you’ll go to Texas, see Delilah . . . anything else you plan to do while there?”

“We’re going to pick up a car at the airport, so we thought we’d do some exploring. Visit Fort Worth, drive down to Austin, see the Hill Country, end up in San Antonio. I’ve never been to San Antonio. Neither has Jude. We thought it’d be a fun hol—” Kit broke off, shrugged, smiling. “Fun.”

Sarah studied her sister’s pink face. Kit was literally glowing with happiness. “You’re happy with him?”

Kit nodded, smile deepening, her blue eyes shining. “Yeah.”

“He’s sooooo different from you.”

“But that’s what makes it work. I already know all about books and rules and discipline. But I’ve never been the rebel. Never dated a rebel. And with him, I get to see into a different world, a new world, and it’s exciting.”

“You don’t think there’s going to be a point when you begin to miss your world?”

“But I still
have
my world. I’m still Kit Brennan, teacher; Kit Brennan, Sarah’s sister. I have my house and my books and my energy-efficient car. And now I have the bad boy, too.” Dimples fluttered at her mouth. “And he’s not that bad, Sarah. He’s actually really good.”

“Humph.” But Sarah was smiling and her heart felt tender. She might sound skeptical but she was actually happy for Kit. Happy that Kit was glowing and shining and living life. “Just know that if it ever goes south, I’m here for you.” She paused, glancing up at the massive stucco house next to them. “Literally. Just down the street.”

Kit laughed, and Ella started laughing, too, just for the pleasure of it.

And then Brennan cannonballed off the side of the pool, soaking everyone.

Boys
.

* * *

T
hat evening Sarah took the kids to the game against the Rangers, having texted Boone after they got out of the pool, asking him to put them on the pass list. She invited Kit to go with them, but Kit had other commitments, and so the three of them headed to the park early so they could watch warm-ups, and Brennan and Ella could go down to the field and wave to their daddy.

Boone spotted the kids, came to the fence, and talked to them, only to be mobbed by a dozen other kids.

He talked to all the kids and signed autographs for a few minutes before heading back to the cage for some additional batting practice.

Sarah and the kids took their seats, and Sarah had butterflies as the national anthem played. She still got nervous for him, and it was here, when sitting high in the stands with thirty thousand cheering fans, that she felt the pressure Boone lived with daily.

Fans weren’t tolerant.

Fans quickly stopped cheering and starting booing and jeering if a player disappointed.

The game wasn’t just physical. It was mental. And that’s what separated the boys from the men. Boone had lasted because he was strong, tough. He was careful about allowing noise to enter his head. Careful to surround himself with the right people, positive people, and he’d learned to deflect the rest.

She liked that about him. And that trait of focusing on positives and eliminating negatives had attracted her to him in the first place.

Well, that and his beautiful face.

But humor aside, the athlete in her admired his drive, focus, and discipline. She knew from playing collegiate sports that success wasn’t just about what you did on the court or field during a game, but about your commitment to the game even when you weren’t playing. It impacted everything. What you ate and drank, how much you slept, how hard you trained.

And Boone was on fire tonight, going two-for-two and getting ready to bat again when Sarah’s phone buzzed with a text and Ella announced she had to go to the bathroom.

“But Daddy’s going to bat,” Sarah said, glancing at the scoreboard, then at Boone, who was now on deck, as she reached for her phone. Bottom of the fifth. Two outs. Number seven for the Athletics, Stier, was at bat. Two strikes, two balls. The fans were on their feet, chanting his name. Steir, Steir, Steir. Apparently Steir was a crowd favorite.

The pitcher wound up, threw, but lost control, striking Steir in the shoulder. Steir dropped the bat, briefly doubling over. The entire A’s bench were on their feet, even as the Rangers’ pitcher ran toward him, apologizing. Steir nodded and jogged toward first.

The players on the bench hesitated. The pitcher and catcher talked. The pitcher returned to the mound. The A’s sat back down.

Fight averted.

Sarah glanced down at her phone as she heard Boone’s name called. He walked toward home plate.

She blinked as she read the message, not understanding. She read it again. The text was from Olivia, one of the wives from Tampa Bay.

Since you were friends with Alyssa,
Olivia wrote
, I thought you’d want to know Alyssa and Jeff are getting a divorce.

Sarah shook her head. No way. There was just no way. She texted Olivia back even as the announcer called strike one.

What?? Why??
Sarah typed.

Alyssa found out he was cheating on her.

Sarah’s heart fell, plummeting so hard and fast she nearly threw up.
With who?

Are you kidding me?!? Who didn’t he sleep with?

No. I don’t believe it.
Sarah’s fingers trembled as she typed.

Strike two, the announced called.

Come on,
Olivia wrote
. Everyone knew. Jeff never could keep his dick in his pants.

Did this happen on the road?

It happened everywhere. He’d put these girls he was tapping on the pass list for home games. TJ said one of them sat next to Alyssa one game and she couldn’t stop laughing cuz she was sitting next to her boyfriend’s wife.

Sarah couldn’t read more, didn’t want to know more, and she turned off her phone and put it in her purse.

Ella danced back and forth. “I have to go, Mama, I have to go bad!”

Sarah nodded, took Ella’s head in her hands, holding it tightly.

Dear God, don’t let that be Boone.

Dear God, don’t let him be like that.

Dear God, don’t let him humiliate us all like that.

Strike three, the announcer called. The fans booed the umpire, shouting it should have been a ball. Brennan booed with them.

Boone tucked the bat under his arm and walked back to the dugout, peeling off his glove.

Sarah dragged Brennan with them to the bathroom. On the way back they stopped for ice cream. Sarah tried to concentrate on the game, but for the next couple of innings she could barely see the field, unable to focus.

They ended up leaving at the top of the seventh. Ella didn’t mind. Brennan did. Sarah promised him a treat when they got home, and then, as she drove him, wondering what she’d give him . . .

Ella fell asleep in the car. Sarah put her to bed when they got back to the house then found a minibag of M&M’s for Brennan. He ate them in his bed, munching away, leaning against his night-light pillow, which glowed with different colors every few seconds.

“Good night, bud,” Sarah said, kissing his forehead and leaving his room, making sure to keep his door open a crack.

In her room, she sat down at the foot of her bed, numb. She chewed on her thumb, shocked.

Horrified.

Jeff and Alyssa were so sweet together. Alyssa was so devoted to him. Jeff was a nice guy. A good guy. A great neighbor. Boone’s friend.

Sarah stripped, stepped into shorts and tugged on a camisole, and climbed into bed. She didn’t sleep, though.

She kept thinking about Alyssa. And Jeff. And the fact that Jeff apparently had cheated on Alyssa right and left.

Boone had to have known. So why hadn’t he told her?

Sarah was still awake when he came home three hours later. She looked at the clock. Midnight. Her stomach hurt. It was late. She knew the game hadn’t gone extra innings. She’d left bed and checked her computer to be sure.

Now she listened to him change in the hideous green bathroom. Listened as he turned out the light, opened the door, walked to the bed in the dark.

He climbed into bed, mashed up a pillow under his head. He’d brushed his teeth and used mouthwash, but she could still smell alcohol on him. He’d been out in a bar. Drinking . . .

And doing God only knew what else . . .

Sarah’s stomach churned, spewing acid. She swallowed, and swallowed again, hating where her imagination was taking her.

* * *

T
he next morning, after Boone woke up and came downstairs, Sarah poured him a cup of coffee, doctored it with milk and sugar, and then handed it to him, asking if he’d heard about Alyssa and Jeff.

“Heard what?” he asked, taking a seat on one of the kitchen stools.

“They’re divorcing.”

Boone frowned. “No, I hadn’t heard that. Who told you?”

“Olivia. Max Fenton’s wife. She texted me last night.”

“Have you talked to Alyssa?”

Sarah shook her head. “Wanted to talk to you first. See what you thought.”

“I don’t know. This is all news to me.”

She leaned back against the counter. “Apparently he’s been cheating on her. Olivia said everyone knew. That Jeff would even pick these girls on the pass list at home—”

“I don’t know about that,” Boone said, looking uncomfortable and rising from the stool.

Sarah crossed her arms, knuckles pressed to her ribs. “Would you tell me if you did know something?”

“About what?”

“You know what. About them. About him. About Jeff having affairs and making Alyssa look stupid.”

“She doesn’t look stupid.”

“She does if everyone on the team knew her husband was screwing around with other women—”

“Why are you yelling at me?”

“I’m upset!”

“Baby, this isn’t about us. We’re not them. And we don’t know what happened, and to be perfectly honest, I’m good with that.”

She took a deep breath, lowered her voice. “I just can’t believe Jeff would do that to her. I didn’t think he was that kind of man.”

Boone said nothing.

“Poor Alyssa.” Sarah pressed her fist to her mouth, remembering her last conversation with her friend, sitting in the kitchen drinking wine, planning Alyssa’s visit to California.

“I think you have to let it go,” Boone said. “You’re just going to make yourself crazy, and fretting about it, or fuming about it, won’t change anything. It is what it is—”

“Which is
wrong
.”

“But it’s
not
your business.”

“She’s my friend.”

“But it’s her marriage. And who knows what happened, and why?”

Sarah’s jaw jutted. “Olivia said he cheated, Boone, on Alyssa constantly.”

“Olivia is a gossip. Even Max says his wife is a gossip.”

“She might be a gossip, but if she says everyone on the team knew, she means it. And I have a feeling you knew, too, but you didn’t tell me.”

He said nothing, which just upset Sarah more.

“I can’t believe it,” she said under her breath. “Can’t believe he’d do that to her, and I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me.”

A small muscle pulled in Boone’s jaw. He exhaled slowly. “We’ve had a great couple of weeks . . . do we really want to go down this road?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re making a point—”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You didn’t think Jeff was the kind of man to cheat . . . whereas I am . . . ?”

“No
.
”

“Then what?”

“We’re talking about Jeff and Alyssa.”

“Are we?”

“Yes.”

Boone gave her a long, searching look. “Sometimes I’m not so sure, babe.”

He turned to leave, and Sarah stopped him, snaking an arm around his waist, feeling his warmth through his thin knit shirt, his lower back taut, thickly muscled like the rest of him.

She held on to him this morning out of love and desperation.

He must have felt it, too, because he pulled away from her, as if he couldn’t wait to escape.

She didn’t let go. “Don’t be mad at me,” she whispered. “This stuff scares me.”

“But this stuff isn’t us.”

She nodded and lifted her lips for a kiss. He gave her one, a brief one, and then looking into her eyes, he kissed her again, his lips softening, giving the kiss heat.

Some of the cold, hard ice in her chest melted, and she pressed closer, craving comfort.

He knew how to make her feel good.

But he could also make her feel so bad.

“Got to go, babe,” he said, easing back.

She looked at him, nodded, unable to smile.

“I’ll see you after the game,” he said.

She nodded again.

Boone gave her a good-bye pat on her ass and walked out.

* * *

H
e walked in.

Lauren straightened abruptly at the café counter, heart doing a quick double thump. God, he was gorgeous . . . and hers.

She smiled shyly as Chris sauntered toward her. “Hi,” she said, nervous for no reason other than that she was excited, and he got her pulse going. “How’s that shoulder? Heard you got a pretty nice bruise.”