Chance Harbor (10 page)

Not that Zoe had ever thrown her arms around Eve’s waist the way Willow did right now. Since middle school, Zoe had struggled to be independent, constantly trying to push her parents away. She’d succeeded with Andrew.

“Hey,” Eve said, pulling Willow close. “You okay? I’ve been trying to reach you for two days.”

“No. Everything totally sucks. Dad’s back.”

“Back?” Eve asked, not knowing what to think.

Willow nodded. “He’s in the kitchen with Mom. Fighting. All they do is fight. They made me go upstairs.” Willow burrowed her face against Eve’s leather jacket. “Make them stop.”

“Oh, baby girl. I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I can,” Eve said, eyeing the hallway to the kitchen. Maybe Russell and Catherine were working things out after all and she’d panicked for nothing. “I should probably go. I can visit another time.”

“No! You have to stay with me!” Willow took her arm and led Eve into the living room.

Willow had regressed; she sounded petulant and half her age, Eve thought. Her granddaughter’s anxiety—so out of control when Zoe first left, then gradually calmed through years of therapy, even medication for a little while—was clearly kicking back in again. Willow was even sucking on a lock of her hair, a habit she’d worked hard to break in middle school.

Catherine’s usually tidy living room looked like the scene of a bar brawl. The painting over the couch—pears and a blue pitcher—hung at a cockeyed angle. Dirty plates and mugs cluttered the coffee table. A heavy white ceramic lamp had toppled over and the braided rug was rucked up on one side. Eve hoped there hadn’t been any actual physical altercation between her daughter and Russell.

In the dim light cast by the overturned lamp, she could see that Willow’s eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. “What’s going on, Willow?” Eve asked. “What are they fighting about?”

“You don’t know?”

“No.”

“They’re getting divorced.” Willow dropped onto the couch and tucked her hands beneath her thighs. “Dad wants to marry somebody else.”

“What?”
Eve felt the wind go out of her so fast that she nearly doubled over. She sat down beside Willow and put an arm around her shoulders. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. You would be, too, if you knew.”

“Knew what?” It was wrong to quiz Willow, but Eve was desperate for information.

“About the
baby
!”

Confused, Eve released Willow and swiveled to face her. “What are you talking about?
What
baby?”

“Dad’s.” Willow pressed her face against Eve’s shoulder. Eve smoothed Willow’s hair, thinking, Oh, Christ. That bastard hadn’t just cheated on her daughter. He’d gotten another woman pregnant! If Russell had listed a thousand different ways to hurt Catherine, this would have been at the top of the list.

Eve clenched her jaw in fury. “I need to talk to them.”

She felt her granddaughter’s breath on her neck as the two of them walked rapidly down the hallway. When Eve stopped suddenly in the kitchen doorway, her granddaughter ran into her, nearly propelling Eve over the threshold. She clutched the doorframe to halt her momentum.

Catherine and Russell didn’t even notice. They were seated on opposite sides of the kitchen table. The table was one Andrew had made for them, a long pine table like the one Catherine had admired in a farmhouse they’d stayed in during a family trip to Provence. Her daughter was leaning across it, shouting: “Well, too bad! You should have thought of that before! You’ll be lucky if I don’t go after your pension, too!”

Russell’s head was bowed, his broad shoulders hunched over. Eve flashed back to a scene similar to this one in her kitchen many years ago, when she and Andrew could have been caught in a similar tableau. Her anger at Russell transformed into something more complicated.

Somehow, she found the courage to speak. “Hello, Catherine. Hello, Russell.” Eve hated the formal, strained sound of her own voice. “I hadn’t heard from you two in a while, so I thought I’d drop by.”

She hoped she was smiling and not grimacing. Russell looked miserable and exhausted, while her daughter radiated a furious energy that was causing her cheeks to turn pink and her delicate profile to look fierce and sharp.

“
Drop by
?” Catherine swiveled around to face Eve and stood up, rolling her eyes. “Are you insane, Mom? It’s almost nine thirty! You didn’t just
drop by
. You’re here to poke your nose in where it doesn’t belong!”

“Nana does so belong, and I want her here,” Willow said from behind Eve.

“And I told you to stay upstairs while your father and I talk,” Catherine snapped. “Now, go do your homework!”

Eve thought Willow would obey. She’d always been an obedient child. Nothing like her mother in that way. But the rules of the game had clearly changed. Her granddaughter stepped forward and stood next to Eve in a gunfighter’s stance, crossing her skinny arms. “What does it matter if I do my homework? It’s not like I’m going to school tomorrow,” Willow said. “Obviously.”

“Goddamn it, Willow. I said go upstairs
now
!” Catherine shouted.

“There’s no need to shout at her, Catherine,” Russell said. His face was bleached of color and his voice sounded hoarse. “None of this is Willow’s fault.”

“Oh, I know that. We
all
know whose fault this is,” Catherine said, spinning around to face him across the table again.

Catherine had moved so fast that the corner of her sweater caught on the chair. For a moment she was trapped in that twisted position, her lip curled in a snarl.

Eve was too stunned to speak. Catherine had always been the peaceful, sensible one in their family. The tranquil baby who smiled at everyone, even strangers on the street. The child she and Andrew always counted on to be responsible. Reasonable. Thoughtful. Calm. She’d been able to quiet her little sister’s tantrums like nobody else, leading Zoe by the chubby hand to look at a butterfly or lie in a sunny corner and read a book. Zoe had always looked up to Catherine, until Catherine had started scolding her like everyone else. Then it was war.

Eve stepped forward to free Catherine’s sweater from the chair despite how easy it was to imagine her daughter turning on her with the same rage she was showing Russell. Catherine was too focused on her husband to notice.

“Fine,” Catherine said. “I won’t shout at her, Russell. You obviously know best. What do you want to do? Have a family meeting? Sure! Let’s take this opportunity to explain to Willow why she’s going to have to leave school without even having a chance to go back and clean out her goddamn
locker.
”

“I don’t think we need to explain things to Willow,” Russell said evenly. “Not right now. This is between you and me.”

“Why? Don’t you think Willow deserves to know what’s really going on? Are you trying to
protect
her now? Sorry. It’s too late for that. So let’s give Willow the bare facts.” A pulse throbbed in Catherine’s temple as she turned to Willow. “Honey, your father has been fired for unprofessional conduct. That’s why you can’t go back to Beacon Hill School tomorrow. Or ever again.”

“I know that already,” Willow muttered.

“Why were you fired, Russell?” Eve asked. “I thought you were having an affair. Why would they fire you for that?”

“Go ahead and tell my mom what you’ve been doing with all your spare time. The spare time when you were supposedly writing your
memoir
about being a senator’s son. It’s almost ten, and I’m going to bed. One of us has to get up tomorrow morning and be functional. Especially now that we’re a one-income family.”

Catherine fled the room. Eve felt her knees go soft with shock. “What’s all this about, Russell? Why did you lose your job?” Behind her, Willow shifted her weight but didn’t move.

“Because I’ve been seeing a woman at school,” he said, then sat down at the table again, cradling his head in his arms and knocking over a glass of water in the process. Water pooled toward the edge of the table and began dripping onto the kitchen floor.

“You’re a stupid asshole cheater—that’s why,” Willow said. “Mom’s right. You’re a perv,” she added, and then she was gone as well, her footsteps thundering up the stairs and shaking the small house.

Eve wondered what the hell she was supposed to do now. Russell was clearly devastated, his breathing coming in sharp gasps as he hid his face and tried to control his weeping.

She busied herself at the kitchen counter, rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. When the counters were clear and Russell was quiet again, she turned around and leaned against the sink, drying her hands on a dish towel. “I have to say that I’m really surprised, Russell. I never would have expected this from you.”

Russell straightened, his face flushing red as if she’d slapped him. His forehead was creased from leaning on his wristwatch. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“Try me.”

He put a hand over his eyes. “Trust me. This is not something you need to hear, Eve.”

“Maybe not. But maybe you need to know that my marriage with Andrew was not always easy, either. I was not always faithful.”

“What?” Russell dropped his hand and stared at her in shock. “When?”

“You don’t need to know the details.” Eve was already regretting having told him even this much.

“But you and Andrew stayed together almost fifty years,” Russell said. “You were happy.”

“We were often happy,” Eve agreed. “But every happy ending is built of sand. For a while I was in love with another man. Early in our marriage.”

Russell was leaning forward a little in his chair. “So you do understand how it can happen,” he said eagerly. “How things can go from zero to sixty even when you’re trying to hit the brakes.”

“I do.” Eve thought for a moment about telling Russell that her husband had strayed from the marriage before she did, but it felt disloyal to Andrew to reveal that. “I understand how sometimes you feel loneliest in a marriage. You can be sleeping in the same bed with someone else but feel like there’s an ocean between you. I get that. But my point is that eventually Andrew and I worked it out. You and Catherine could, too.”

Eve stopped, embarrassed. She was lying: she and Andrew hadn’t really worked things out. She only thought they had.

Russell seemed calmer now. “I’m sorry you went through all that, Eve. But our situations aren’t at all parallel. I don’t have any choice in the matter. I have to get divorced and marry this other woman. Like you, I never meant to hurt anyone, but things spiraled out of control. And now, well . . .” He held up both hands, palms up in surrender. “Now there’s a baby to consider. I’m going to be a father! What else can I do but marry her?”

“You could share custody with the child’s mother and pay child support but stay married to Catherine. People do that.”

“I know. But I don’t want my child growing up without a dad.”

He was already a father, Eve wanted to point out, but of course that wasn’t strictly true. Russell was Willow’s uncle and legal guardian. That wasn’t the same. This baby would be his blood. Could even carry his name. Was Russell in love with the baby’s mother? He hadn’t once mentioned love. But maybe he wouldn’t, not to his mother-in-law.

“The thing is, I never thought I’d get the chance to father my own child,” Russell was saying. “It’s what I’ve always wanted. And Catherine, well, she wasn’t the same after we went through the miscarriages and fertility treatments. She turned a little cold, you know?”

Eve wrapped her arms around her torso, facing him. “What are you trying to say?”

“Oh, you know what I mean. A man needs to feel truly desired if he’s going to stay happily married.”

“And this new woman desires you?” Eve asked, feeling her jaw clench. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“God, yes. It’s partly her age, I know,” Russell said, in a misguided attempt to appear modest. “After all, she’s young, still a senior . . .” He checked himself, but it was too late.

“Your baby’s mother is a senior at the school where you teach?” Eve said.

At her tone, Russell looked wounded. Aggrieved. “She’s almost out of high school—eighteen now and soon to be nineteen. We’ll get married as soon as I can get a divorce. I’m grateful to Catherine for not throwing up any roadblocks there.”

Eve’s sudden fury propelled her across the kitchen so fast that it felt like she’d flown across it, her feet not even touching the floor. She grabbed Russell’s shirt collar and hauled him to his feet. He raised his arms in protest, then dropped them when he saw her expression.

“Get out,” she said, not shouting, but issuing the words in a way that made Russell flinch.

“Hey, I thought we were both being honest here,” he said. “You had an affair. So did I. Shit happens, right? You know I never meant to hurt any—”

“Stop making excuses! I said
get the hell out
!” Eve shoved Russell so hard that he nearly lost his balance. He recovered and began walking backward out of the kitchen with his hands high in the air, as if she were pointing a gun at him instead of her finger. “Willow was right when she called you a ‘stupid asshole cheater.’ You aren’t in love with this girl. You saw your chance for an easy lay and took it! That’s all this is. Get out now, you pathetic jerk, before I call the police!”

“Hey! What are you doing? You can’t throw me out of my own house,” Russell said, but continued his retreat.

Eve followed him down the hall, her footsteps speeding up so that his did, too, even though he was still walking backward away from her. “This is no longer your home, Russell,” she said. “You need to leave now before I call the police. You are unwanted here. Good-bye.”

She locked the door behind him. Upstairs, she checked on Willow, who appeared to be asleep with her headphones still tucked into her ears. She walked past the door and found Catherine in bed, too, lying on her back, a pillow over her face. Eve lay down beside her, breathing hard.

“Go away.” Catherine’s voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well.

“You should have told me what really happened,” Eve said. “I’m so sorry.”

Catherine pulled the pillow off her face and threw it across the room. “How could I tell you, Mom?” she demanded. “I can’t even stand telling
myself
what really happened!”