Table for Seven (39 page)

Jaime drew in a deep breath and put down her fork. “I might as well tell you. Mark and I are getting a divorce. He’s been having an affair with his ex-wife.”

Fran’s mouth gaped open, and Audrey inhaled audibly.

“How did you find out?” Fran asked.

“I found them together at her house,” Jaime said.

“You suspected something was up?” Audrey asked.

“No, I had no idea. I went over to Libby’s house to pick up a school project Emily needed. And I found them there together.” Jaime swallowed hard, but remained composed. “Libby answered the door wearing Mark’s shirt.”

Fran and Audrey both gasped.

“No!” Fran said.

“Are you serious?” Audrey asked.

“Unfortunately, yes, I am serious. I’ve asked Mark to move out, and I’ve already hired a divorce attorney,” Jaime said.

Fran shook her head, looking amazed. “You seem so together.”

“Do I? Well, that’s funny, because I feel like I’m falling apart,” Jaime said. She paused, as a shudder of pain passed over her features. For a moment, Audrey thought Jaime might cry, too, but she took a deep breath and pulled herself together. “I’ve gotten so used to pretending everything’s going to be okay—you know, for the kids’ sake—that maybe I’ve managed to delude myself into believing it.”

Fran put an arm around Jaime’s shoulder and squeezed her.

“You’ll get through this,” Fran said.

“I know. I’m going to be fine. It’s Ava and Logan that I’m worried about. Divorce is so hard on children,” Jaime said. Her voice broke, and she looked near tears again. She held her wineglass out to Audrey. “More Chardonnay, please.”

Audrey poured wine into Jaime’s glass, filling it almost to the top. Jaime smiled weakly.

“Is there any chance you and Mark can work things out?” Audrey said, wondering if she would be able to forgive a straying husband.

“Could you?” Jaime asked, echoing Audrey’s thoughts.

“To be honest, I don’t know. But some couples manage to get past affairs,” Audrey said.

The foie gras was so excellent that despite the difficult conversation, all three managed to clean their plates. The waiter whisked away the empty dishes. If he noticed how
traumatized first Fran, and now Jaime, looked, he was tactful enough not to say anything.

Once the waiter had departed, Jaime leaned forward to answer Audrey’s question. “I might be able to forgive a one-night stand. Something that happened while he was drunk and out of town. But a long-term affair with his ex-wife?” Jaime shrugged helplessly. “I don’t see how we get past that. I could never trust him again. And it’s not like he can cut off contact with Libby, even if he wanted to. There’s Emily. They’ll always be connected through her.”

“The same way you’ll always be connected to Mark through Ava and Logan,” Audrey said.

“And to Libby, too. Don’t forget, her daughter is Ava and Logan’s sister. It’s such a mess,” Jaime said. She shook her head. “I’ve always hated the term
divorcée
. It makes my skin crawl. But that’s what I’ll be from now on—a divorcée.”

“I may be right there with you,” Fran said.

“Are you still thinking about leaving Will?” Audrey asked. She tried hard to keep all judgment out of her voice, but it was difficult.

“No. But now he’s thinking of leaving me,” Fran said. She smiled without humor. “This is quite the night for bombshells.”

Audrey and Jaime stared at Fran.

“Why would Will leave you? He adores you,” Jaime said.

“He used to adore me,” Fran corrected her. “Now he can barely stand to look at me.”

“What happened?” Audrey asked.

They were interrupted again by the appearance of the waiter with their second course.

“Seared diver scallops in a blood-orange sauce,” the waiter said, setting down the three small plates.

“Oh, yum, I love scallops,” Fran said. “I wish I was the sort of person who stopped eating when they’re in a crisis. I swear I just get hungrier. I’ve put on seven pounds in the past three weeks.”

“Fran, stop stalling and tell us what’s going on,” Audrey said.

“Oh, my God, you have to try this,” Fran said, infuriatingly. She pointed to her scallops with her fork.

Audrey sighed, but took a bite. “Wow,” she said, as the flavors exploded in her mouth. The smooth buttery scallop, chased by the bold citrus of the oranges.

“I know, right?” Fran said. Then, catching Audrey’s look, she said, “Okay, fine. I guess Coop will probably tell you anyway, so you might as well hear it from me.”

Audrey felt a shiver of misapprehension. That sounded ominous. Had something happened between Fran and Coop? And suddenly Audrey wasn’t at all sure she wanted to hear what Fran was about to say.

“Tell me what?” Audrey asked cautiously.

“I pretty much threw myself at Coop,” Fran said flatly. “And he turned me down, so nothing happened. But Will found out about it. And, as you can imagine, he’s furious.”

Audrey felt like she’d spent the entire night staring open-mouthed at her friends, and now found herself gaping once again, this time at Fran. Jaime was staring at Fran, too, although her eyes were narrowed.

“You cheated on Will?” Jaime asked. There was a sharp edge to her voice. Audrey realized that Jaime was probably not in a forgiving mood when it came to infidelity at the moment.

“Actually, I’m only guilty of attempted adultery. Like I said, Coop turned me down,” Fran said. “And between the
humiliation of being rejected and my husband threatening to leave me, I think I’ve been punished enough.”

“Sorry,” Jaime said quietly. “I didn’t mean to sound judgy.”

“No, I deserve your judgment. I would judge me, too,” Fran said. She pushed her curls back from her face and sighed unhappily.

“How did Will find out?” Audrey asked.

“Believe it or not, he followed me to Coop’s apartment,” Fran said.

“Why?” Audrey asked.

“He wanted to find out if I was having an affair. If that’s the reason why I told him I wanted to separate,” Fran said.

“Was it?” Audrey asked.

“Well, I wasn’t having an affair, so technically no. But I had convinced myself that I was in love with Coop. That I would be happier with him than I could ever be with Will. So I guess I was cheating on him emotionally, in a way.”

“Do you still want to leave Will?” Jaime asked.

Fran shook her head. “When Coop turned me down, it was like I suddenly woke up to reality for the first time in months. I realized I was pretending this entire relationship was taking place—or about to take place—when it couldn’t have been further from the truth. And I finally saw how stupid, how incredibly stupid, I’d been. I don’t want to lose Will. I was just bored and looking for some excitement. I was such an idiot.”

“But you didn’t actually cheat,” Audrey said.

“Not for lack of trying,” Fran said.

“But it’s really not the same thing,” Jaime said. “Trust me. There’s a big difference between finding out your spouse is
interested in someone else and finding out that they’ve slept with them.”

“I don’t know if Will’s going to be able to forgive me after everything I’ve put him through,” Fran said sadly.

“Your marriage is stronger than that,” Jaime said.

“You just said that you wouldn’t be able to forgive Mark,” Fran said.

“Did you miss the part where I said he was
sleeping
with his
ex-wife
? That’s a little different than having a crush on someone.”

“And did you miss the part where I said I asked Will for a separation and then tried to seduce Coop?” Fran asked. She glanced at Audrey, as if suddenly concerned how this would go over. “Sorry. I didn’t know you were involved with him.”

“I know. Don’t worry,” Audrey said. She sighed and sipped her wine. “Wow, we are in good form tonight. Is it the curse of the Table for Seven Club? Two marriages on the rocks, one floundering romance, and one … well, one Leland.” Audrey felt a pang of sadness.

“The dinner party club had nothing to do with it. Mark didn’t screw around with his bitch of an ex-wife because of our dinner party club,” Jaime said.

Fran’s eyes widened and she gave a brief clap. “Bravo. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before. I’m impressed.”

“I swear all the time,” Jaime said.

The other two looked at her, eyebrows raised.

“In my head,” she clarified. “Hey, I have two children under the age of four. My life is G-rated.” She shrugged. “Maybe that’s why my husband decided he needed to fuck someone else.”

The waiter appeared at just that moment with the next
tray of small plates. At Jaime’s words, he stopped dead and looked horrified.

“Oh. Sorry,” Jaime mumbled.

“This is a therapy group. We’re working out some anger issues,” Fran explained.

“Very good,” the waiter said, somewhat stiffly. Jaime giggled and then coughed to cover it up.

“What are we having next?” Audrey asked the waiter.

“A vegetable terrine,” the waiter said, setting down the plates. Each contained a pâté, made up of three layers—one red, one green, one white. Then he checked the bottle of wine, and distributed the remnants among the three glasses. “Would you like another bottle of wine?”

“Yes,” all three women said at once. And then they started laughing. It was the sort of half-drunk, hysterical laughter that once begun is hard to stop. The waiter made a hasty retreat, muttering that he would bring them another bottle immediately. This just made the three laugh even more, until Jaime had a coughing fit and Audrey’s eyes began to tear up.

“We,” Fran said, “are officially a mess.”

“To us,” Audrey said, raising her glass.

“To us,” the others said, and they clinked their glasses together before feasting on the vegetable terrine.

JAIME WAS LYING IN bed, reading her latest book club selection, when Mark came in. His hair was ruffled and he looked unusually somber.

“Are you sure about this?” Mark asked.

He’d already carried out three suitcases of belongings. Only a garment bag with his suits was left, slung over the
back of a linen upholstered wing chair. Jaime had asked him to move out all of his things after the children had gone to sleep. She had told them that Daddy would be living somewhere else from now on—Mark had taken out a lease on a sterile furnished condo with a view of a golf course—but she thought that actually seeing him move his belongings out of their house would be more traumatic for them. Maybe she was deluding herself, but the one thing she was slowly learning through this mess was to trust her instincts.

Jaime put her book down and looked at Mark.

“About your moving out?” she asked. He nodded. “Yes, I think it’s for the best.”

Jaime realized she sounded stiff and cold. But it wasn’t like there was a Martha Stewart guide on how to make separating from your cheating bastard of a husband a Good Thing. And besides, trying to create the perfect life had not exactly paid off for her so far. Why not add a bit of her own emotional mess to the pile?

“I’d be willing to go to marriage therapy,” Mark said.

Jaime stared at him, wondering if he had any idea how obnoxious he sounded. As though consenting to marital therapy was some huge favor he was willing to throw her way.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass,” Jaime said.

“But what about Logan and Ava?”

“What about them?”

Mark sighed. “Do you really think splitting up our family is in their best interest?”

“Did you think of that when you were fucking Libby?” Jaime asked.

Mark flinched at the expletive, which gave Jaime a rush of
pleasure.
Good
, she thought. An ugly act deserves an ugly word.

“I wasn’t thinking,” Mark said. “It was a mistake. An enormous mistake.”

“Are you apologizing?” Jaime asked.

“Yes, of course,” Mark said.

“Because it didn’t sound like an apology. ‘It was a mistake’ is not the same thing as ‘I’m sorry.’ Which you have yet to say to me.”

Mark walked over to where Jaime lay in the bed, the blankets pulled around her like armor, and sat down on the edge of the mattress. He took her hands in his and looked at her earnestly.

“Jaime. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry about everything. If I could go back and undo it, I would. I love you. I love Logan and Ava. I love our life together,” Mark said, his tone humble and his expression earnest. “Is that what you want to hear?”

Tears flooded Jaime’s eyes, hot and salty.

“No,” she said, her voice harsh. “What I want is for none of this to ever have happened. And unless you are capable of building a time machine, so that you can go back and not have an affair, then we are done. Over. Through. And don’t you dare throw our children’s happiness at me. If you cared about them, if you cared about me, you would never have done this in the first place.”

Mark looked anguished. “I know how stupid I was. But please give me another chance. I won’t bring up the kids if you don’t want me to, but please give me another chance for us. For our family.”

He looked at her pleadingly. And for a moment, Jaime wondered if she was doing the right thing. Divorce was hard
on everyone, especially the children. It was messy and expensive and often destructive. And Mark had offered to go to marital counseling, which was completely unexpected. It was the sort of thing he’d always scoffed at in the past.

And yet … and yet. As Jaime looked at this man, her husband, she realized that nothing would ever be the same between them again. Even if they went to counseling, even if she found a way to forgive him—something she wasn’t at all sure she’d be able to do—she’d always be wondering in the back of her mind if he was going to do it again.

“I’m sorry, Mark,” she said, her voice as gentle as his had been a few moments earlier. “Our marriage is over. But I would really like to work with you to find a way to divorce that doesn’t cause any extra trauma to our children.”

Mark’s face hardened. Jaime recognized the stony fix of his features; it was exactly how he had looked every time she had offered an opinion, or—even worse—a criticism of his relationship with Emily.

“Fine,” he said, standing abruptly. Mark turned and picked up his garment bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “If that’s what you want.”