The Glass Wives (29 page)

Evie shook her head and laughed. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

*   *   *

When Evie walked into the house, the kitchen was spotless, the sofa cushions fluffed with the decorative throw pillows placed, not thrown. Sophie’s and Sam’s backpacks were packed, zipped, and by the door. The alphabet magnets on the fridge spelled
Lisa rock5
. Who was this woman and what had she done with Lisa?

“Homework’s all done?” Evie said.

The kids nodded.

“All went well?” Lisa asked.

Evie removed the empty Tupperware from her tote and shook it. No noise meant no cookies. “Better than expected.”

“Why does Aunt Lisa have to leave tomorrow?” Sophie asked, clinging to Lisa’s arm like a barnacle.

“I have to go back to work, sweetie.” Lisa kissed the top of Sophie’s head. “But that’s tomorrow. Maybe we can persuade your mom to let you guys stay up a little later tonight since my flight is in the morning.”

Evie put her hands on her hips and glowered at the trio, but they just scowled back, aware she was faking.

“Get a deck of cards,” Lisa said. “I’ll teach you Texas Hold’em. And how to shuffle like a pro.”

“Awesome!” Sophie said.

“Cool!” Sam said, and started rummaging through the Everything Drawer for a full deck.

“Gambling, fabulous!” Evie laughed.

“Hey, I have to pass on the skills. Can I help it if I spent my summer after college in Atlantic City?”

Evie just shook her head. She loved watching Lisa with her kids. Her sister would have been a great mom (aside from the gambling instruction), and she’d always wanted kids, but it never happened. Evie had not cornered the market on loss, and she knew it. There were many ways for a life to be rerouted.

“Take a bubble bath and read a book. We are A-O-K.” Lisa pointed out of the room, and Evie obeyed, hurrying up the stairs. Maybe Lisa understood more than Evie gave her credit for.

Evie checked the clock. It would be at least thirty minutes until Lisa had bilked the kids out of their allowances. Evie grabbed a magazine and a candle from her bedside table and locked the bathroom door. Then she opened it, but just a crack.

*   *   *

Without Nicole
or
Lisa in the house, Evie settled into her newest morning routine. Walking downstairs, sleep still in her eyes, she knew the creaks would not stir the kids, and that the expected noise on the eighth and third steps resulted only in Rex’s repositioning himself on the landing. But Evie still tiptoed though the kitchen on a coffee quest, forgetting no one was below who would wake from heavy footsteps.

The gray sky stretched the early hours and tricked her for a moment into thinking it was a lazy day instead of a typical suburban Saturday with a basketball game at ten. Evie liked the company of friends and the comfort of Lisa. When Evie was honest, she knew she’d even liked having Nicole in the house. But when Evie opened her e-mail without turning on any lights, she also enjoyed having no one looking over her shoulder.

She looked at her class syllabus online. After reading the textbook, preparing lectures and assignments, grading tests and term papers, she’d end up making about eight dollars an hour. She drew a big zero in the air with her index finger. Eight dollars was more than zero dollars. She didn’t need her bank account to grow—not yet. She just needed it to stabilize.

She walked away from the computer and poured another cup of coffee. It almost overflowed. Lowering her mouth to the cup on the counter, she sipped until she saw a white ring of china. Then she opened and shut the freezer. Twice. “I am going to eat a bowl of Cheerios or oatmeal or something else healthy to start my day,” she said to herself aloud.

She grimaced at the yellow box and the O’s that tasted like their cardboard container and pulled out a few sugar packets.

As she scooped, chewed, and swallowed while staring at the monitor, Evie’s stomach flipped.
I have a job. A real job. A job that feels more real than selling scarves, silver picture frames, and embellished serving spoons at Third Coast.
She might have gotten the interview because of Alan, but the name on that contract was
hers
. It would be
her
name on the paychecks. She put her bowl in the sink and sat back at the computer and stared.

Accepting this job had been the biggest step. They were back on track and staying there. The kids would see their mom doing something she loved that
didn’t
revolve around them.
That is a good thing.
Evie would exist outside the realm of motherhood and suburban matriarchy, even if just for two hours at a time. At County she could be Ms. Glass or just Evie. She could use her maiden name even though she was clearly no maiden. No matter what they called her, she would be judged on her performance and that of her students, not by whom she chose to marry, divorce, or live with.

To everyone she met, Evie would be normal. She laughed. All she’d wanted for so long was a normal life, a husband, two kids, and a dog. The picket fence was there too, albeit in need of Tom Sawyer. And now she was on the cusp of redefining normal, not for her nosy neighbors, potential colleagues, students, or her children—but finally, for herself.

*   *   *

Evie sat on the bleachers and wished she’d swiped one of Beth’s tush cushions. She waved at the Bunco moms and the library moms and the soccer moms impersonating basketball moms. Then she turned her back, positioning herself with a view of the gym door. Between Monday in family court and Saturday on the basketball court, Nicole might have packed up Luca and their Lakewood life and driven back to Iowa. But if she hadn’t and was coming to the basketball game, Evie intended to be prepared. She had twitched when Nicole referred to Evie’s house as
home;
but anticipating Sam’s and Sophie’s grief over losing Luca was worse than twitching. It made her inside ache and her outside sweat, so she was uncomfortable
and
unattractive. Great way to start a new job and a new life.

Evie looked at the court and smiled at Sophie. Evie sipped her coffee loudly, warding off an internal, suburban symphony of
I told you so
’s. She forced away the thoughts of Nicole with each dribble of the ball. Nicole was going to start over in a place she’d thought she’d never see again, in a situation that would once have been unthinkable.

Evie winced, herself and Nicole somewhat interchangeable. Also unthinkable.

The ref blew the whistle, Evie nodded once at Sophie, and Beth and Laney walked through the door with Sam.

“Here she is,” Sam said. He looked at Evie for permission to return to whatever he was doing before he became a tour guide.

“Go ahead,” Evie said.

And off he went.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you were spending the day with Herb.”

“Beth said you didn’t sound good when she talked to you this morning, so this is a ‘friend-tervention.’ Now, where is
she
?” Laney said, looking around.

Beth shook her head. “I didn’t say anything about Nicole. I said you sounded down and that maybe we should come and sit with you at Sophie’s game.”

“Yes, you did,” Laney said. “But
down
implies
annoyed,
and
annoyed
implies the widow, er, Nicole.”

“Since when?” Beth said. “It’s over, Lane, let it go.”

There was that word again, as if Evie had beaten Nicole in combat, when there hadn’t actually been any. Nicole just gave up. If it was a win, it was empty, because Evie’s insides twisted with loss she didn’t understand.

Beth pulled out three bleacher cushions from her tote bag. “Get up,” she said. Laney and Evie lifted their bottoms. Beth set the cushions on the wooden seats and motioned for Laney and Evie to sit. Once a cushion was tucked under her, Beth put her elbows on her knees, her head in her hands.

“So, what’s wrong?” Beth looked at Evie with squinted eyes of curiosity and closed lips of sincerity.

“Nicole showed up at soccer last week, but not this week,” Evie whispered. “So I’m thinking she may have left. I didn’t return any of her calls this week. I just needed to be alone, but I didn’t think she’d leave without saying good-bye. To the kids, I mean.”

“She didn’t leave.” Beth pointed with her chin. “There they are.”

Evie swung around. Laney turned as well.

Evie looked back at Beth and touched her hands. “Thank you,” Evie mouthed.

Sophie was on the bench, but spotted Luca and Nicole. Evie’s basketball-playing daughter smiled so wide her cheeks must have ached.

For one moment, nothing mattered but that smile.

Nicole didn’t look at Evie. She wheeled Luca to the far end of the bleachers and perched on the corner of the first row, looking ready to run away.

“That was weird,” Evie said.

“The farther away, the better,” Laney said.

“Knock it off,” Beth said. “Can’t you see that Evie wants to talk to Nicole?”

“She does?”

“I do?” Evie said.

“Of course you do.” Beth nudged Evie’s elbow in an upward motion. “Go ahead. You wanted to say good-bye.”

“No, I wanted
her
to say good-bye to the kids.”

“Let your kids see you go over to them. Say your piece. Make peace.”

Beth was right. Discarding the past meant more than ignoring it. It meant facing it and moving forward. Evie leaned forward and shot up her hand as though she were hailing a taxi on Michigan Avenue during rush hour. She stopped short of putting two fingers in her mouth to whistle—she had gotten enough attention lately.

Nicole looked around as if she thought Evie might have been motioning to someone else but grabbed the stroller handle.

Beth scooted a bit and made space for Nicole to sit next to Evie.

“I hope you don’t mind that we came today,” Nicole said.

“I know the kids will be glad to see Luca.”

Nicole turned the stroller toward the court and Luca clapped.

“He looks so big,” Evie said.

“I know. I’m constantly amazed that I can put him to bed one night and the next morning he seems to have grown. It was the same way with Lucy.”

Silence.

“How’s the sleeping going?” Evie said, diverting the conversation away from Nicole’s dead daughter. Evie was sympathetic, but it couldn’t sway her.

“Yeah, he seems to have gotten a few new teeth so I guess that was just a bout with teething.”

“I hated those!”

Nicole laughed.

“When are you leaving?”

Nicole shrugged. “Soon I guess. But I’d like to spend some time with the kids before that. If that’s okay with you? I wanted to take a bunch of pictures so I could show them to Luca every day.”

“Sure,” Evie said.

She tapped her feet. They watched the game and cheered for Sophie in unison. Evie checked the game clock. One minute to halftime. Beth and Laney were focused elsewhere.

“Why did you back off?” Evie whispered.

“Why did I what?” Nicole turned away from the noise of the court.

“Why did you drop the lawsuit? I know Beth talked to you, but she didn’t tell me what happened.”

Nicole played with her fingers. “Beth and her husband helped me with a budget and financial plan for me and Luca; they showed me we’d be okay. And we had some long talks about family and friendships. And trust.” Nicole looked at Beth, who smiled at her and nodded. “I still don’t believe what you said about Richard. I’ll never believe it, and since he’s not here to defend himself, I’m not going to think about it anymore. There’s just so much one person can handle.”

Evie silently agreed.

“No matter what he did or didn’t do, Richard was good to me,” Nicole continued as if she’d memorized a speech. “After Peter and Lucy, Richard was the first person who made me feel good about myself.” Nicole grabbed Evie’s hand. “You were the second.”

Sophie ran to Luca. She hoisted him out of the stroller with a grunt, carrying him like a sack of flour back to her teammates. He didn’t seem to mind.

Evie’s gaze followed them. “The kids will miss him so much.” Evie realized she’d said it aloud.

“We’ll miss them too. And you.” Nicole fumbled with the diaper bag at her feet. “Maybe we can get webcams or something, you know, so they can see each other.”

“Maybe.”

Evie knew it wasn’t the same. Her kids had web-chatted with her parents, but the novelty wore off fast. Lisa and Evie never got into the habit and talked on the phone like in good old days of landline cords they could twirl around their arms. But maybe it would be different. The kids would want to see how Luca had changed and grown, they’d want to hear him talk and see him walk.

So would Evie.

“It’s not the same,” Beth said. She scooted closer to Nicole. “Sorry, my ears perked up at
webcam.
It’s good but it’s no substitute for the real thing. We’re web-chatting with Cody while he’s in Paris,” Beth said to Nicole. “Not the same as sitting across the table from him at dinner.”

Laney looked at her watch. “I’ve got to go meet Herb. I promised him I’d be home for lunch. Are you coming with me, Beth? Didn’t you have something to do?” She tugged on Beth’s cotton sleeve.

“Yes, I’m coming. See you tonight, Ev.”

Laney bent, cheek-kissed Evie, and squeezed her shoulder. “Remember what Beth said. Grudges cause wrinkles.”

Laney acknowledging there’s a benefit to forgiveness? Pigs must be flying somewhere,
Evie thought.

“Bye,” Nicole said.

Beth waved at Evie and Nicole.

“She doesn’t like me much,” Nicole said.

“Don’t mind Laney, she just can’t hide anything. She doesn’t even try.”

“Does she know what happened?”

Evie nodded.

“And that I’m going back to Iowa?”

Evie nodded again.

“Then why can’t Laney let it go?”

“She likes wrinkles.”

Nicole looked surprised. “Why would she hold a grudge against me? I fixed it. I stopped it. Is that why you didn’t call me back all week? I wanted to apologize again. I am so sorry, Evie. Not for wanting what was best for Luca, but for going behind your back. And I’m sorry I threw it in your face that you needed money.”