The Glass Wives (22 page)

“I can tell Olivia likes you. She goes with her gut as much as someone’s CV when she hires.”

Evie wouldn’t be lured into saying something inappropriate. “Thank you.” With Sandy as a conduit, she could ensure Dr. Talbot knew she was interested, in case her inadvertent emotional drooling hadn’t been obvious. “The position seems perfect.”

Until her divorce Evie was only academic by marriage. Even with her master’s degree, she was a subset of Richard’s Ph.D., relegated to the role of late-night coffee pourer, early-morning alarm clock, proofreader, cheerleader. Evie’s forays into the world of Pinehurst College had faded. The faculty-spouse soirées were stored in her Before Divorce mental filing cabinet. Her personal history was not unlike any other kind of history, bruised—and healed—by the slap of hindsight’s wisdom. But hindsight wouldn’t help her today. Teaching college, even at a county college, was all about her. She wasn’t the wife, the girlfriend, the date, the mother, or the friend. It was all Evie all the time, for the first time in a long time. Maybe for the first time since she’d met Richard.

She wished she had the formula for doing and saying everything right. That was where Richard excelled. Following directions (but not rules), solving problems (but not those of his own making). Surprises weren’t boding well for her lately. She wished she had the foresight to know what was next. But only fools rely on wishes, Bubbe had said. She’d said it when Evie and Lisa wished for Hanukkah ponies, for better grades, for bigger boobs and smaller hips, or to win the lottery. Evie was no fool.

“What’s your best advice that will help me get this job?”

“Just be yourself. Olivia can see right through a poser.”

Be yourself.
The advice of mothers everywhere.

“How long have you been teaching here?”

“Ten years.”

Ten years ago Evie had infant twins, a house with a newly sodded lawn, budding best friendships, and a husband. Ten years ago Sandy Perlman was probably as old as she was now. When she was fifteen, he was twenty-five. When she was twenty, he was thirty. But it didn’t matter. This was an interview, not a date, which probably meant that running her fingers through her hair and shimmying her shoulders would be unseemly.

So instead, she just nodded and said, “Wow.”

It covered everything.

Chapter 16

R
EX WAGGED HIS TAIL, WELL
aware the best scraps came from a baby in a high chair. Sam and Sophie deposited their dishes in the sink and sauntered off to do homework. Nicole rinsed and loaded while Evie grabbed a baby wipe and cleaned Luca’s hands and face.

“I’ll finish the kitchen if you want to get Luca in his pajamas,” Nicole said.

“Sure. C’mon, Luca, Auntie Evie will take you downstairs.” Nicole smiled. Evie kissed Luca’s head and tasted essence of smooshed peas. Some things never changed.

Evie rarely entered Nicole’s basement domain, just as Nicole rarely visited the second floor of the house. They occupied group space on the first floor, sharing the kitchen, living room, and dining room as if it were the common space of a dormitory. In a way, it was.

The boxes of toys Evie had stacked in the corner were now arranged in a square, covered with a vinyl tablecloth and some of Luca’s plastic trucks. It was the perfect height for him to pull himself up on for a round of cruise, play, cruise, play.

Luca banged on the makeshift play top and Evie turned. Easy, breezy baby play. If only adults could emulate the joy and innocence.

She looked at a photograph lying on the table that captured a moment that did not belong to Evie. Nicole looked like a bride out of a magazine in a traditional ball gown with extra sparkle, an updo, and a cascading bouquet of calla lilies. Two bridesmaids had donned mauve taffeta dresses they’d never wear again.

Evie would not do the fancy-white-dress and updo thing if she ever remarried, although that probably wasn’t going to be a problem since she wasn’t dating. She twisted the back of her hair off her neck absentmindedly and sucked in her stomach, just to see if she could.

“Where do you put the wet diapers?” Evie yelled after removing herself from the imaginary aisle. Nicole appeared at the top of the steps.

“The diaper pail is outside the bathroom, thanks.”

With a cotton-footie-pajamaed Luca on her hip, Evie walked to the bathroom. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a pile of mail. It was still delivered to the other house; the family that had moved in didn’t mind, Nicole told her.

Stepping on the pedal of the white plastic can, Evie spotted an envelope with a familiar green label. She would never go through Nicole’s mail, but what if Nicole had brought Evie’s mail downstairs by mistake? The letter from Midwest Mutual was addressed to Nicole. She must be dealing with them too. Maybe getting the same runaround? Financial details were something they didn’t discuss, except Nicole’s weekly contribution for room and board, which she always paid on time and in cash.

Evie scanned the room for more of Nicole’s personal effects. No photos of Peter or Lucy. Nicole carried those photos with her. No pictures of her mother or brother. Nicole’s life before Richard existed only in her head and heart.

Evie didn’t know what she would do without Lisa or her parents. They were far away, but close at heart, their photos lining the shelves. They descended for holidays, called all the time (sometimes too much), and met her and the kids for annual vacations in Rehoboth Beach. Nicole had set one life aside to start a new one. Evie had just blended hers.

Upstairs in the kitchen, the twins bickered. Although it was music to her ears, this sign of normalcy, Evie was inclined to stop it.

“What’s going on in here?” she asked, standing under the arch that separated the dining room from the kitchen.

“I’m trying to figure out this math problem and Sam keeps telling me to be quiet.”

“I can’t think when she taps her pencil.”

“Okay,” Evie said. “Soph, don’t tap your pencil. Sam, be patient.”

“Fine,” he said. “When I’m done, I’m going to ask Alan to help us with our science project.”

“Not today.”

“Why not?” the twins whined in unison.

“Because he’s busy.”

Sam rolled his eyes and scooted his chair closer to Sophie. They held their pencils the same way, the way Richard did, resting it on their right ring finger instead of their middle finger. They also stuck out their tongues to the left when deep in thought. Fragments of Richard were embedded in their beings.

“You carry this number over here,” Sam said. “Keep it under this number and you won’t get mixed up.”

“I know,” Sophie said with a smile.

“Good job, guys. You guys are good students
and
good teachers,” Evie said. “Just like your daddy.”

Sam and Sophie lifted and tilted their heads in unison. Their eyes blinked hard, but shone. Evie relished the glimmer of gladness. Her heart ached for more, and then the twins released wide, toothy smiles.

Just like Richard’s.

*   *   *

Laney appeared in Evie’s back-door window. She waved her in, filled their mugs with hazelnut blend, and pointed to the two oblong, plastic containers on the counter.

“You
are
still going all
Barefoot Contessa,
” Laney said. “Thank goodness.”

Laney reached for just-baked lemon cookies. Evie went right for box-mix chocolate chip, but stopped, remembering the snug waistline of the blue suit.

“I hope you don’t flake out on the baking with your new, fancy job!”

“I didn’t get it yet,” Evie said. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“I think I will.”

They high-fived as if they were toasting with champagne.

“I guess if you’re not going to get laid, the next best thing is getting paid,” Laney said.

Only Laney could make that kind of connection.

Evie sipped the cooling coffee and reached back into the container of cookies, took one, but just put it in front of her.

“I’ll be so disappointed if I don’t get it, but it’s at night, twice a week. I can still work at Third Coast part-time while the kids are in school and camp.”

“You’ll get the job. They’d be fools not to hire you,” Laney said.

“I’ll be sure to give them your recommendation.”

“You do that.”

The two friends laughed. If only they could fix things for one another with just a phone call.

“Did you tell Alan?” Laney asked.

“I got the interview because of Alan.” Evie looked away from Laney and into the cookies. “I want to get the job on my own.”
I don’t want to tell Alan anything.

“When will you know?”

“They said a week or two, so I guess I’ll find out any day.” Evie’s stomach flipped.

“And you don’t have to remind me, with Nicole here, you won’t worry about the kids.” Laney grimaced.

“That’s the point.”

“Where is she anyway?”

“She’s out running errands and Luca is sleeping. I don’t know what her plans are. For now
I
don’t have to move
or
find a sitter.” Evie looked at her best friend and took a deep breath. She thought of Sandy Perlman and jutted her hands over her head in a faux hallelujah. “Sometimes we just have to make things work. And that’s what I want to talk to you about.”

“Uh-oh.”

“No uh-oh, Lane. I’m just thinking that things are finally getting back on track. A little bit at a time.” Evie left out being off track with Beth. It would come out soon enough. “The kids miss Richard. Some nights are really hard.” The words caught in her throat. “But slowly, really slowly, I feel like one day we’ll all be okay. Really okay, not pretend okay. So—I want to go back to Bunco. I want to let Nicole have coffee with us—sometimes. I want people to know that she lives here for now and that it’s for both of us. I don’t care if people know that Midwest Mutual is being a pain in the ass and that I needed money to pay the mortgage. That’s my real life. And once I have the money for the kids and some bills, I might still want Nicole to stay because she helps with the twins. And I do love little Luca.”

“Lord, it’s like
The Brady Bunch
but without Mike Brady.”

“No, it’s like
Kate and Allie,
without the ex.” Evie clamped her hand over her mouth as if she’d said a dirty word. “My life is private, but there are no secrets. I cannot handle any more secrets.”

“Got it. And since we’re being nonsecretive, tell me what the hell is going on with you and Beth.”

“We had an argument.”

“So?”

“A big one. And don’t ask me, because I’m not telling you. If you want to know, ask Beth.” It wasn’t Evie’s story to tell.

“Well, whatever happened, remember, sometimes the friendship is more important than the hurt feelings.”

*   *   *

The next afternoon Evie pulled into the driveway after dropping off Sam and Sophie at indoor soccer and basketball practices. Beth was standing in the rain, tending goal at the garage door.
Beth.
A liar in Lilly Pulitzer. A fraud with a French manicure. A con with a Coach purse. A home wrecker with a flair for home décor.
Oh, I could go on and on.

Beth came to her window. “Please talk to me.”

Evie stared straight ahead, the lump in her throat the size of a marble, but as Beth put her hands on the car, her voice trembling a litany of
please
s, the lump grew to the size of an apple and sprouted quills. Evie popped the locks, gripped the steering wheel, and stared at the water cascading down the windshield.

Beth climbed into the backseat and scooted over to the passenger side. “Ev, you have to talk to me. We’ve been friends for too long to let this come between us.”

Evie adjusted the rearview mirror.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you. You know that, right?” Beth pleaded.

“Do you have any idea what this did to me?” Evie’s voice rose higher than she intended, and she hoped the volume would drown out her despair. This was how she felt during periods of her marriage. The suspicion and insecurity devils were back on her shoulders, not obliterated as she’d thought, simply lying in wait.
Whom can I trust? Whom else have I misjudged?
Death brings out the worst and the best in the living. Evie had witnessed both. She’d felt both. After all, Evie had never fought with Beth or Laney before Richard died, but since, she’d fought hard with each of them.

“I thought you wanted me to be honest. I wanted you to know where I was coming from when it came to Nicole. Why I get her.”

“Hearing about your affair with Alan brought back a lot of memories. Awful, godforsaken memories, Beth.”

Evie glared into the small mirror, daring Beth to look back. Evie didn’t need to rehash anything aloud. Beth had been there from the onset of each of Evie’s frenetic inklings. They’d waited up for Richard to come home later than he should have, sat by the phone waiting for Richard to call. Beth helped her ransack pockets, drawers, financial records, phone records. Together they counted the broken promises and tried to piece them back together. Beth had maneuvered Evie like a masterful puppeteer on days she didn’t have the wherewithal to function on her own. Unrelenting, both Beth and Laney reminded Evie of what she most often forgot.
That I deserved better.
The best, they’d said. And they helped Evie find the courage to believe it. And now, when her life was starting to look, once again, like something she could settle into for the next forty years, Beth unleashed poisonous reminders. They pulsed through Evie, and she tasted the bile of past betrayals along with this new one.
How dare Beth do this to me!

“Your happiness came as a result of her pain—you know that, right?” Evie’s throat ached from squelching her sobs.

Beth was crying. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have slept with someone else’s husband.”

“I shouldn’t have,” Beth whispered. “I’ve never said that before.” She leaned her head against the window and gazed out into the same gray that had seeped inside the van. “I saw how Richard hurt you. I felt it,” she said with her hand on her heart. “How you’d been…” She stopped, her voice breathy and low, as though she were talking to herself. “Abandoned. I couldn’t believe I helped Alan do that to Maeve.”