The Glass Wives (26 page)

*   *   *

As the kids and Evie walked onto the soccer field, Nicole was waiting.

“Where are you sitting?” Nicole did not wait for an answer and sat, pushed the stroller wheel lock with one foot, and flung open a blanket with the other. “I didn’t want to miss the game.”

Still standing, mouth agape, Evie stared at Nicole on the ground. “Make yourself at home,” she mumbled. “You always do.” Her nostrils flared, then she scratched her nose to disguise evidence of disgust. Maybe giving Nicole the sports schedules was a bad idea. Evie did it for Sam’s and Sophie’s sakes, but when was she going to allow herself something for her own sake?

Sophie skipped over with Isabel and asked, “Can I buy popcorn?”

“Did you say hello to Nicole and Luca?” Evie said without taking her eyes off the field. Teaching good manners could be a bitch.

Without a word Sophie stepped to Nicole and hugged her. Evie cringed. But when Sophie hugged Luca, Evie smiled.

“It’s fifty cents,” Sophie said.

Evie dug out quarters from her pocket and tucked them into Sophie’s palm, closing her fingers around the coins and squeezing. “Be careful with your money so no one takes it from you.”

Unfazed, Sophie and Isabel ran toward the concession stand. It was commonplace for Sophie, and even Isabel, to see Nicole and Evie together. It was all they remembered.

“You haven’t returned my calls,” Nicole said.

“I can’t believe you expect me to.”

“I thought you’d change your mind, for the kids’ sake.”

Evie turned to see if anyone was within earshot. For the first time she was glad that the duo made the other moms uneasy. They’d waved from a comfortable distance, but did not approach. Evie looked back at the soccer field and spoke in a raised whisper.

“For the kids’ sake I gave you their sports schedules. For the kids’ sake I didn’t walk away when you sat down. For the kids’ sake, I won’t tell them you want the money their father left them.”

Evie removed her sunglasses and cheered loudly for Sam, raising her arms above her head. Luca clapped and Rex barked. Evie led Rex with his leash closer to Luca in the stroller so he could pet the dog. “You messed this up. I ignored
everything
everyone said about you and let you into my home. I even
liked
you.”

“Then why won’t you share Richard’s money with Luca?”

Evie turned away from Nicole. Was this girl stupid? No, she’d schemed her way into Evie’s family—twice. Evie turned back. “It’s not Richard’s money. This policy belongs to Sam and Sophie. I’m not saying anything more on the subject.”

“I only want enough for Luca to start a college fund.”

“I know how much you want. It’s in all the legal documents. Go home to Iowa, Nicole. I’ll let the kids web-chat with Luca. If they remember to ask.”

Nicole twirled her hair enough to start a small propeller plane.

Evie put on her sunglasses and looked to the soccer field. She blinked back tears and felt as though a soccer ball were lodged in her throat. Crying would ruin her bitch vibe, so she coughed to feign a case of spring sniffles. Evie was over it. Over Nicole. Over Luca. Over the family cookie nights and sparkling refrigerator shelves. She was done.

Chapter 19

E
VIE PREFERRED BEING SERVED, EVEN
if it was just deep-dish pizza. Nothing was better than a meal she didn’t have to bake, roast, nuke, serve, or clean up. Add a bottle of wine, subtract the twins and going-out guilt—and it was a perfect night. Or it would have been perfect if Laney hadn’t insisted on inviting Beth and Alan, and if Evie weren’t obsessing on how to behave when they showed up, now that she knew their secret.

Evie stabbed an olive on the group’s appetizer plate, popped it into her mouth, and washed down the saltiness with a sip of cabernet franc. She cleared her throat, wanting to make an announcement before her new nemesis arrived.

“I got the job at County College.”

“We know!” Laney said. “That’s why we’re here, to celebrate.”

“I wanted to tell you!”

“Alan told us,” Herb said.

“How did he know? It hasn’t been announced yet.”

“Because Sandy told me.”

Evie twisted in her seat, saw Alan and Beth, and then turned back to Laney.

“Oh, stop it,” Laney said. “Whatever is going on between you—and I’m not asking—it’s time to put it aside. We’re celebrating.” She scooted around so there was enough space in the U-shaped booth for the five of them.

Evie did not want to celebrate with Beth or Alan. But that’s exactly what she was going to have to do. Laney had coordinated the dinner, and Evie couldn’t forget that Alan was the reason she’d known about the job in the first place.

“Thank you for telling me about the job.” Evie nodded toward Alan but didn’t look at him. “And for putting in a good word.”

“All I did was mention your name,” Alan said.

“Twenty times, I bet,” Laney said.

“No, only about ten.”

Everyone but Evie laughed and held up their glasses, so she acquiesced. They clinked and drank. The wine was warm on Evie’s throat, coating her apprehensions.

“So what did they say?” Beth asked. “Tell us everything.” She used her extrasweet Beth-voice, the one she used with customer-service reps when she was trying to get her way.

“Nothing to tell, really,” Evie said. “Excuse me, I’m going to go to the ladies’ room.”

*   *   *

“Laney doesn’t understand why you’re so angry,” Beth said over the roar of the hand dryer when Evie stepped out of a stall.

“No, she does not. And I’m not going to tell her.”

“I think she’s afraid to know. It takes a lot to make you angry.”

“Laney would probably combust.”

Their absentminded laughter echoed off the tiled walls.

“Are you really going to let the fact that we’re here ruin your celebration? Can’t it be the first step with us?”

Evie shrugged. She was so mad at Beth. And more than that, she was hurt. But this was Beth. This was still Beth. Maybe Evie could shuffle her feelings and expectations until she found a comfortable combination. After all, nothing in her life was as she’d expected.

“Time for pizza?” Beth asked.

“Time for more wine,” Evie said, walking back to the table a few steps ahead.

She heard Beth mumble, “Whatever works.”

*   *   *

“So, who is this Sandy person who told you about Evie’s job?” Laney asked.

Damn. Nothing gets by Laney. Well, almost nothing.

“A history professor,” Evie said. “One who has been there for a long time and now has to share office space.”

“Sucks for her,” Laney said.

“Sandy’s a man,” Alan said. “Alexander. Alexander Perlman.”

“A may-an!”
Laney hollered, louder than she should have, even at Antonio’s. Part wine, part enthusiasm, equaled a whole lot of Laney-itis. “A
Jewish
may-an.”

“He was very nice to me,” Evie said. “I’m sure the last thing he wants to be is my tour guide and babysitter.”

“I’ve met him. He’s handsome,” Beth said, attempting normalcy. Evie looked at her, wanting to be annoyed, but she wasn’t.

“Of course he’s handsome,” Laney said, even though she’d never met him. “If he wasn’t handsome, Evie would’ve already mentioned him.”

The dim lighting camouflaged Evie’s flush.

“So it’s pretty exciting that you got the job and you’ll be working with Sandy. It’s just what you wanted,” Alan said.

Evie wanted Alan to shut up. A bathroom treaty with Beth was one thing, but chitchat with the cheater was another. Alan glanced at Evie over his glasses while moving plates around on the table to make room for the waitress to deliver the deluxe veggie deep-dish pizza. Evie knew he felt her disapproving vibe, and she was fine with that.

Garlic and spices overwhelmed Evie’s senses, her appetite replaced with a swirl of queasiness. “It’s fine. I’m just not sure how I’m going to swing it.” Evie shifted in her space, eight eyes upon her.

“Swing what?” Herb said. “It’s a job. You don’t swing it, you just do it.”

Laney opened her mouth to speak, but Evie put up her hand like a crossing guard. “Herb’s right, which is one of the reasons I accepted. Another is because Alan really went to bat for me.” She looked right at him and he nodded once. “And of course there’s the ‘I really need a paycheck’ reason. But without Nicole around, I don’t know how…”

“What? You don’t know how you’re going to be normal?” Laney said.

Herb glared at his wife.

Evie didn’t want them fighting because of her. “Lane, she was my free babysitting. Tonight my kids are at your house, but I can’t do that for eight weeks. I know Sam and Sophie aren’t babies, but if I’m going to be teaching a class from six to eight, twice a week, it means I’ll be gone for longer than that. I can handle the at-home stuff—the planning, the reading, and the grading—but the logistics of being gone that long aren’t easy to figure out.”

“We’ll all help you,” Laney said. A chorus of “Of course, don’t be silly, we’d be happy to” and “Whatever you need” relieved Evie’s anxiety, or should have. She felt a cold spot in her stomach that hadn’t been warmed by pizza, wine, or kind words.

Beth lifted her glass. Evie allowed Alan to pour her a drop from their second bottle.

“Here’s to Evie,” Beth said.

“Here-here.” Voices rose to meet their glasses.

“Ooh, and let’s not forget about the cute professor,” Laney said.

Evie’s cheeks warmed but she furrowed her brows as if she’d forgotten about him.

Laney put her head on Herb’s shoulder and looked up, batting her eyes. He kissed the top of her head. Between their bickering and flirting, Evie got marital whiplash. But whatever they were doing, it was working. The solid marriages that surrounded her served as good examples to Evie and her kids. No matter what else had happened.

Laney popped up her head and reached over to Alan. “Why don’t you see if the professor is single.”

“Stop,” Evie said. “He’s a colleague. It wouldn’t be professional. Plus, I’m not dating anymore, remember? Men are out of sight and out of mind.”

“How about when one’s
in
sight?” Laney asked, then took a slug of her wine.

Evie didn’t know. She just prayed she would not see Sandy Perlman anytime soon so she wouldn’t find out.

Chapter 20

“I
’D HAVE MOVED UP THE
court date if I knew you’d visit,” Evie said. The click of her seat belt served as punctuation.

Lisa shut the car door and Evie pulled away from O’Hare’s congested Terminal 1, zigzagging around the waiting cars, hoping for no traffic as they headed north on the tollway.

“You don’t need a lawyer, but I didn’t want you walking into that courtroom alone. And my fee is much less than that of anyone you would hire anyway.” Lisa looked at the floor by her feet.

“Your
fee
is in the backseat.”

Lisa turned and reached back for her Tupperware container of chocolate-chip cookies. “Want one?” Lisa garbled the words with half a cookie in her mouth.

“Nope. I’ve sworn off the stuff.”

Lisa chewed and stared at Evie.

“What?”

“What what?” Lisa said.

“What are you thinking?”

“Right now? I’m thinking you
still
make the best chocolate-chip cookies. In general though, you know what I’m thinking. I’m not sorry that this
thing
with Nicole is coming to an end. She has shattered your life
twice
.”

“Oh, is
that
all?”

Lisa held out half a cookie. Evie shook her head, gripped the steering wheel so tightly she felt the pebble grain of the faux leather. She just drove.

After twenty minutes of silence, Evie coasted down Bayberry Drive. The lawns were still brown from their winter’s nap, yet daffodils, hyacinths, and tulips heralded the arrival of spring. Evie obeyed the twenty-five-mile-an-hour speed limit even though no neighbors were outside and all the kids were in school. Hers included.

“Home sweet home,” Evie said. And she meant it.

Evie took Lisa’s hand and jerked her, almost in an awkward dance move. “Bring your stuff to my room,” Evie said with a bubble in her throat. “I love it when we have sleepovers!”

“And I love your haircut!” Lisa said, gently withdrawing from her sister’s grasp. She patted the bottom of Evie’s bob with one hand and tapped her suitcase handle with the other. Lisa had her priorities, and one of them was haircuts.

Evie knew another of her sister’s priorities was
her
.

*   *   *

The courthouse steps did not resemble a grand marble staircase like the ones on prime-time detective shows. Instead, they mimicked baby steps, with wide treads and short risers, and just enough space for one lane of pedestrians going up and one lane coming down. There wasn’t room for the gobs of reporters and hordes of bystanders reflected in those ripped-from-the-headlines episodes. Thank goodness. Evie did not like the idea of an audience, although she knew the courtroom would not be private. Family members commonly fought over even meager inheritances and battled wills with the departed in an effort to keep a grip on the past, and it all happened in plain view. But no matter the venue, she needed to go forward, to get through the piles of paperwork, the legalese and verbal roughhousing, so that she and Sam and Sophie could move on.

Evie ascended the steps without holding the banister. Lisa had okayed the outfit Laney had chosen, so Evie donned beige pumps last seen at Yom Kippur services three years before. She landed on each tread on the ball of her foot to avoid having to balance on the three-inch heels.

Evie had been in court only once before, and the corridors were no more welcoming this time than when she had arrived to finalize the divorce. Directories and framed portraits lined the white walls. Her heels clicked with each step on the marble floor. Tall wooden doors separated the regular world from the world of judges and lawyers and gavels and permanent decisions.

On Divorce Day, Evie realized the power of the court system was not unlike that of the religious system into which she and Richard had married. She walked into court as a married woman and sat across the aisle from the one person in the world from whom she wished to be legally severed. There were words and signatures. The judge asked if they were sure this was what they wanted. It hearkened back to saying vows and exchanging rings. The gavel banged. Evie left the building as a person with a new marital status: divorced.