Accidents of Marriage (28 page)

“Ben?”

He startled at her voice. “Did I wake you, honey? Sorry.”

“I sleep. No. Matter. Day?”

“It’s Monday night. Eleven o’clock. Tomorrow Vanessa’s coming over.” Ben remembered this as he said it. Anne’s biggest catering client needed her, and he had a trial, so Vanessa had agreed to drive Maddy to rehab and keep her company until dinner. “We’ll get pizza when I get home.”

“Yes. Kids?”

“The kids are fine.”

She rolled over and rested her head on his shoulder. She smelled sleepy-warm, like a cookie. “I love. You,” she said and closed her eyes.

•  •  •

Ben ran down the courtroom steps and jogged to his car. Today he’d won, and Ben loved being a winner. The case had been a small one—but still, he’d mixed it up with Judge Floramo and come out on top. Ben hated Floramo, a bully. Getting one over on him made success all the sweeter. Ben’s client, a triple threat, poor, young and pregnant, had been caught shoplifting. Asshole judge thought he could teach her a lesson, and he’d locked her up. Ben had freed her by getting her out on the kind of technicality Floramo was famous for screwing up.

After a record-breaking no-red-lights twelve-minute drive from Dorchester to downtown, Ben found a legal parking spot only a car’s length from his office building. What other miracles did the gods have in store for Ben Illica? After bypassing the elevator and tearing up the
stairs, he slammed his briefcase on his desk and flexed his shoulders, remembering every smart thing he’d said in court that day.

How long had it been since something had run through his veins besides fear or regret? Holding the copper Lincoln paperweight Maddy gave him for some long-ago birthday, transferring it from hand to hand, he swung his feet up on his desk and picked up the phone to call home. Three rings later Maddy’s voice came from the answering machine.

“
You have reached the home of Ben, Maddy, Emma, Gracie, and Caleb. Please leave a message!
”

Hearing his old Maddy was sweet and sad; he’d almost forgotten her real voice, the slight impatience in her husky tone.

Ben checked his watch. Four o’clock. They were probably all at the pond or J.P. Licks. Anne and Vanessa nagged them to go outside all the time, as though Maddy were an infant who needed fresh air.

“Hey, everyone,” Ben said to the void of voicemail. “Just checking in. I hit a home run in court today, thought you’d all like to know. I’ll call when I’m leaving.”

He hung up, disappointed at not reaching anyone.

A soft knock came as he shuffled papers without purpose.

“Come in.”

Elizabeth fell into his guest chair. After his house, his kids, and Maddy, Elizabeth seemed too glossy to be real.

“We need to talk,” she said.

In the history of the world, did men hate any four words more?

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She sat silent, her face impassive.

“Am I supposed to guess?” Ben forced the words to sound light. Caring. Paternal.

“You’re shutting me out. It’s like colliding into a wall. My internship is up next week, and I don’t want to leave like this. This is bad. For me. For my career.” Elizabeth crossed her arms. “Are you angry at me?”

“I’m not, Lissie. How could I be? You were an angel.”

“Really?” She clipped off the word. “Then I suppose treating angels like trash is de rigueur in your world?”

Ben dredged for a platitude to ease her out of his office. Meanwhile, he closed the door. He sat on the edge of his desk and cleared his throat, coughing up his fatherly voice. “I know you’re hurt. If I hurt you, I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”

“I’m not hurt, Ben. I’m livid. Don’t get the two confused.” Elizabeth crossed her arms. “It’s one thing to fall together for a one-night stand. I understand I may have put more on it than you did. But you treat me like something’s wrong with me. You avoid me. You never meet my eyes in meetings, in the hall. Why do you choose to be mean?”

She reached for a tissue. This was why men should never have affairs. Why would you want two women’s tears? How could any sex be worth that?

There really was no answer but the truth here. “Elizabeth, I fucked up. You’re right. I was mean, but trust me, not because of you. It’s all me. I couldn’t believe what I did.” There weren’t any rewind buttons in this life. “I’m overwhelmed. My family. Maddy leans on me. She’s broken.”

“Couldn’t you have explained that instead of running away?”

God, how young she was. In her list of men, he had great import. For him, she was his embarrassment.

“I was ashamed. I shouldn’t have turned to you as I did. It was wrong. But you . . . I found you impossible to turn from.” He didn’t even know how much he said was bullshit and how much was true. Elizabeth had been the next step that night. Like the alcohol he overdrank that night, an antidote for pain. A weak man’s choice.

Anger and affairs, perhaps they were always the choice of the pathetic.

Elizabeth’s posture softened. “Listen. I’m not trying to add to your burdens. I suppose it was inevitable—our ending like this. But you knew I really fell for you hard, didn’t you? I’d sworn that I’d never sleep with a married man. We were just so—”

Ben clamped his hand onto hers. “Right,” he said. “I know.” He tried to think of the perfect words, but nothing close to appropriate came to mind. “Right.”

CHAPTER 27

Maddy

“Where do you keep your mint tea?” Vanessa asked. “My stomach’s off. Probably from eating white bread. Why do you have that junk in the house?”

Vanessa stood in the living room doorway, her body poking out of the kitchen. Maddy cocked her head. Mint tea? Did they have mint tea? Did she like mint tea? What was it, anyway? She couldn’t wrap her mind around the concept, although she could picture mint Life Savers. When they were kids, Vanessa and she would stick their tongues through the Life Saver holes and see whose candy lasted the longest.

Why was her bread junk?

“
Maddy!
Can you hear me?” Vanessa shouted.

“Not. Deaf. Stupid.”

“Are you calling yourself stupid, or are you calling me stupid?”

“You. Fucky.”

“Fucky. That’s a nice way to talk to the sister who’s taken care of you all day.”

“Taken. Care. Ha.”

Vanessa had watched Maddy make lunch. Tuna sandwiches. From
a bowl of already-made tuna left by their mother. But Maddy put it on the bread. With mayonnaise. Vanessa made coffee, and Maddy swirled thick cream into hers. When she tried to pour cream in her sister’s coffee, Vanessa shrieked as though it were poison and then looked at Maddy’s cup as though she’d lost her mind, reminding Maddy that
before
she’d taken
skim milk
in her coffee.
Skim, Maddy!
Vanessa had repeated it as though trying to cram this important knowledge into Maddy by sheer force.

Ha. As though Maddy wanted to drink sludge.

“You know what?” Vanessa put her hands on her hips. “I think it will do you good to be by yourself for a bit. Emma will be home with the kids any minute, right? I should get Ursula and Melody from the babysitter. You’ll be okay, right?”

Maddy nodded. She made a big smile. Lips up! Being alone sounded great. Thank God Vanessa wasn’t a worrywart like their mother or Ben.

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Vanessa said. “It will be good for you not to have someone clicking and clucking over you every second.”

Before Maddy could answer, Vanessa had already slipped on her ballerina flats. She reached into her huge screechy-green bag and got out a book. “Here,” she said, holding it out. “I just finished this—you’ll love it. I know it will be difficult, but you should try, right? Push yourself. You need to reacquaint the muscles. I read a theory about that online. Just do a few sentences each day. For fun.”

What was her sister talking about?

Maddy stared at the book, not taking it, wondering what her sister wanted her to do. Vanessa shook it a few times, looking at her, peering over the oversized black sunglasses she’d already put on.

“Take it. It’s for you.” She placed it in Maddy’s hands and kissed her on the cheek. “It’s fun. A beachy kind of read. You’ll enjoy it.”

After she walked out, Maddy stood, confused, holding the book in two hands. The cover was bright pink and prison gray. She threw it on the kitchen table, wishing she could really read it. Drink in every word.
Fuck you, Vanessa.
Reacquaint her muscles? Reading for fun had left town. Since the accident she could read perhaps one tortured page
at a time, word by word, and by the time she got to the bottom of the page, she’d forgotten the beginning. It was not fun.

Her head hurt. Should she take a pill? Aspirin sometimes helped, but last night she’d taken one of the strong-ass ones. That’s what Ben called them. She didn’t even know the real name. Ben just gave her a strong-ass when she needed it.

Poor Ben. Needing to take care of everything in the house. Maddy tried to do more when he wasn’t home, but her mother hovered every time she turned around. It was like having your shadow sewn to your shirt.

She looked at the clock. Digital. 2:15. She took her little brown notebook out of her pocket.
Twosday, Octobr 26/ Zelda: 11:00. Sista take me. Sista stay till Ben coms home.

Time had turned into a strange and elastic concept. She’d talked to Zelda about it again today. Maddy had to
learn to use coping mechanisms
as her battered brain healed.

Time management: gone.

Multitasking: gone.

Ben wrote her schedule for the next day before they went to bed. Some schedule. Rehab doctor, and therapist, and bloopy boo, boo hoo, poor you. She wanted to go to work and see Olivia. Too bad.

What did she do at work?

Talk, talk, talk.

Tears filled her to the top and bottom. It happened in a second. In her chest and her throat and her eyes—tears even clogged her legs. Zelda and Dr. Paulo said it’s impossible, but they didn’t know. She could feel them.

She decided to pick up Gracie and Caleb. Surprising them would be fun! She could do the short, short drive. Or the medium walk. Yes, she would walk. Zelda said she should exercise. She’d get there before Emma arrived to get them. They’d come home like four amigos!

Wait. Ha! If she drove right now, she couldn’t miss them! Make sure she did it right! Wait right in front of the school and surprise Ben with how much more she could do. Help him.

She picked up the book Vanessa gave her and threw it again, harder this time.

Normal,
Zelda said.

You’ll get over it,
Ben told her.

“Fuck you,” she told the book and them.

She had to get back to work. How could she do that if she couldn’t read two pages in a row? Ben kept telling her to calm down; it’s a slow process.

Asshole.

Ben. He was the opposite of her—such an organized man. The keys to her car hung off a hook next to the phone. Might as well take the pretty new car, right?

She remembered to put on her shoes, lock the door, and take her pocketbook so she had her driver’s license. Ha! She knew what to do. As she hunted for and then gathered the objects she named each one aloud:
Shoes. Jacket. Pocketbook.
Her pride didn’t last long. When she got to the car, she couldn’t open it.

“
Stop it,
” she yelled when tears came again.

She went through the list like Zelda taught her. Mentally checked everything off. Shoes. License. She’d even remembered to wear a watch so she could keep an eye on the time.

Shit. Keys.

She reached into her pocketbook. There they were! See? Small glitch. Glitchette.

There it was, right outside the garage. No room for any cars inside.
Wait.
Maddy squished her face, trying to think. What did Ben say about that?
Remember?
Something about the mess? He didn’t like it?

The question slipped away. She slipped into the car. Shiny tan leather inside, all slithery and slippery. Zelda said she probably wouldn’t be scared when she started driving again as she had no memory of the accident and probably never would. Sliced right out of her brain. Like a wedge from a block of cheese.

The key slid in the place. Ha! She’d picked the correct one right
off the bat! Now, she looked at the dashboard. So many numbers and dials. Sort it out. That’s what Zelda kept telling her.

Don’t get overwhelmed. You can sort it out, Maddy. Just sloooooooooooooow down.

Concentrate. Extricate the important information. Another bit from Zelda favorites.

Extricate.

Mitigate.

Concentrate.

Sort.

She turned the light knob on and off. She beeped the horn. Not loudly. Very appropriate.

Appropriate
.

Extricate.

Mitigate.

Concentrate.

Sort.

She talked herself through the process. She even remembered to try the windshield wipers—Just in Case It Rained—a move she was especially proud of since sun blasted through the windshield. Extra careful. Just in case.

What else?

Seat belt!

She disengaged the car from park, slid it into D4—four driving, for driving—and readied for her glide down the pebbled driveway. Excellent! She turned up Vanessa’s CD and sang along with the Black Eyed Peas:
Whatcha gonna do with all that junk . . . Check it out. Uh, huh. Check it out, uh, huh.

Plan! Plan before driving!

At the end of the driveway, she would make a left. A short slide to the road, Maddy-honey-girl, then, a right turn. One short baby-sized block, then left on Centre. Voilà! Straight to the school.

She remembered!!!

Ready for takeoff.

She breathed deep, took her foot off the brake, and stepped on the accelerator.

Her breasts bumped the steering wheel. Metal cracked the splintered old wood as she slowly smashed into the closed garage door.

“
No, no, no.
”