The Scarlet Letter Scandal (25 page)

She stood up, taking a tissue from a side table.

“And the worst thing. Even worse than this. I hosted a jewelry party. One of those stupid damned jewelry parties that all these women are all having, because one of the hockey women asked me to.
AND NO ONE CAME TO IT
.” Jeannie was laughing and crying at the same time, intermittently snorting on the edge of hysterics as her carefully constructed façade crumbled. “Just the hockey mom in her slutty blouse and her table full of cheap jewelry, and me. I bought three hundred dollars’ worth because I was so humiliated. That’s my life.”

Cindy turned to the computer, thinking there weren’t enough pot brownies on the planet for this sobering cookie-cutter dystopian hell. Yet the computer screen in front of her held more bad news, and she figured all of it may as well hit her sister at once.

“There’s an invitation,” said Cindy, “to a New Year’s Eve toga party at Rocks Lifestyle Club… It’s addressed to ‘All Our Members.’ But there’s a personal note from Kellie at the beginning: ‘Sorry I missed seeing you at the masquerade party. You know you don’t wanna miss this one! See ya there! xoxo Kellie.’”

“He. Will not. Ruin me,” said Jeannie. “That slimy, conniving son of a bitch, I will not let him…”

The buzz had indeed faded as the realities set in around the two sisters. Jeannie had stopped laughing and now quivered with what seemed a lot more like rage.

“No, sis,” said Cindy. “We are going to get you through this. I don’t know how, but everything’s going to be okay.”

“I did not do anything to deserve this,” said Jeannie. “This is not the sort of thing that happens to me. I WATER PLANTS and SWIFFER DAILY and DO HIS PAPERWORK and RUN A DAMN WELCOMING BASKET COMMITTEE. My SIDEWALK is always EDGED and there are NO KIDS’ TOYS IN MY LAWN!!!”

Cindy turned off the computer. “Okay, Jeannie, look, I think we’ve had enough bad news for one day. Let’s take it easy. Why don’t we open a bottle of wine and…”

“I don’t drink wine during the day or ever!” said Jeannie. Her breaths were coming in short spurts and her cheeks were flushed and Cindy was starting to get worried. “I let Kellie into my home. That lying whore.”

“I brought wine,” said Cindy. “It’s organic, so it won’t give you a migraine. Why don’t I order a pizza for dinner and we can just sit with the kids and watch a movie?”

“He’s not. Coming here,” said Jeannie. “Ever. I do not want to see him.”

“Do you want to pack some things for you and the kids and we can go up to my place for a few days?” asked Cindy. “Look, don’t start giving me a laundry list of things you don’t do and never do and won’t do. It’s fight or flight at the moment. You either stay here and face Chaz, or you grab the kids and come with me. What do you think?”

“I think I want a glass of wine,” said Jeannie. She wandered into the front sitting room and sat down on a tan leather loveseat.

Cindy walked into the kitchen, retrieving a bottle of wine and a wine opener from her oversized backpack. She wasn’t even sure her sister would have one and she sure didn’t want to go looking for it. She fetched wine glasses that were never used but still didn’t need dusting from the glass china cabinet in the dining room. She glanced at the clock, guessing the kids would be home in about an hour, allowing a little time.

Jeannie dusted imaginary crumbs from the loveseat, her thoughts racing. “I want a police officer in a uniform to explain to me what is happening here,” she said. “Law and order, that would be comforting.” But would it? What if her husband went to jail? What would she tell her kids? How would she approach Chaz with the information?

Cindy walked in carrying two glasses of wine and handed one to her sister.

They drank in silence for a few minutes, letting the information they’d found in the office in only a few minutes of searching sink in. Cindy wondered what else they’d find if they really started digging, but didn’t really even think that was necessary at this point. She wouldn’t tell her sister about the porn browser that had also been open on his screen.

“I would like to pack up some things for me and the kids and come with you and leave tonight,” said Jeannie. “I can call my failure of a husband to inform him that he needs to put his things together and get out of our house. Or who knows, maybe the cops will just come and take him away. Maybe I’ll call that lawyer.”

“I think you might need to call your own lawyer,” said Cindy. “We will get you through this. No worries.”

“Well, of course there are worries,” said Jeannie. “There are hundreds of worries…”

“Let’s face them one at a time, sis,” said Cindy. “Not all at one time.”

“Welcome to the suburban subdivision,” said Jeannie, and she sipped her organic wine. “Where there is mostly just division. Take me to your farm.”

Rachel was reeling from the scene with Maggie. How dare she march into her office and actually hit her? It was surreal it even happened. She actually thought about calling the police, but decided she didn’t need that hassle at her office and besides, it would be a she said-she said situation. She took three Adderall pills out of her desk and swallowed them dry. She would need them to get through this evening.

She wondered what the New Year’s Eve party would be like at Rocks, how her
journalism coverage
(as she referred to her blogging) would impact the attendance at the event. But what she felt more than anything, at the moment, was the hurt and betrayal that Kate had told Maggie she was the Keytown Mouse. How could Kate do this to her? She thought they were in love. Did their relationship mean nothing to Kate? Was Kate still so stuck on Maggie that she would ignore the last months of their happiness together?

She packed up her laptop and her purse and stormed out, passing the receptionist, mumbling something about an emergency with picking up Jacob at school.

As she pulled out of the parking lot, she dialed Kate.

“What were you thinking?” she asked as Kate answered. “Telling Maggie about my blog? How did you even know about it?”

“You like your secrets, don’t you, Rachel?” Kate answered calmly.

“You had no right…” began Rachel.

“I had no right?!” said Kate, laughing. “What about you? You had a right to stir so much shit in this town that there are police investigations and marriages falling apart and women stressing out everywhere?”

“I was only reporting the truth,” said Rachel.

“Well, you’re no CNN,” said Kate. “Hell, you’re not even Fox News. No one wants their lives splashed all over the Internet unless they’re telling their own stories. You are not telling your story. You’re spreading innuendo and rumor about people whose livelihoods and relationships could be harmed in the process. While what? You keep track of your page hit counts? It just isn’t right. Maggie deserved to know the truth. Not your brand of fake truth, but the actual truth. Maybe you can self-publish a little memoir now about your secret superhero Internet mouse identity.”

“I thought I meant something to you,” said Rachel, now crying. “I thought we were in love.”

“I can’t get over the feeling that I was just part of your reporting,” said Kate. “You never told me the truth about your identity as the blogger. You were just using me as part of the experience, because you’re bored with your husband or your job. I don’t want to be a character in your future book.”

“It wasn’t like that,” said Rachel. “I fell in love with you.”

“That’s something I’ve learned over time not to do,” said Kate. “It rarely ends well. I think right now I need to take a little break from your constant drama. Friends who are nothing but drama are never true friends because they’re too wrapped up inside their own narcissism to really care about anyone else.”

Rachel tried to speak but Kate had hung up the phone.

She pulled into her driveway in Stony Mill fighting back tears. She knew she’d have to pull it together to go in and face her husband and son as though nothing had happened. She cursed Maggie and how humiliated she’d made Rachel feel. She cursed Kate for hurting her. She cursed Kellie who always seemed to get away with doing whatever she wanted. She’d never felt so alone. She opened her glove compartment, feeling around for the blue capsules she’d stashed in a Ziploc bag there. Her hands shook as she took a half-empty water bottle from the passenger side cup holder and swallowed four more pills. She glanced at her phone, and there were no incoming text messages and one new email.

It was from Aileen. It read, “I just heard you are the Keytown Mouse? My friend at the newspaper called. They’re running a story about you tomorrow. I want to meet with you as soon as I return to town.”

M
aggie, Lisa, and Eva sat drinking coffee. They had settled into comfy spots at Zoomdweebies Café, their original Scarlet Letter Society meeting place, each happy to be in the company of the others. Zarina once again opened her store at 5:30 a.m. on the first Friday of the month, once again baked fresh muffins early for them so the shop would smell of warm bananas when they’d arrived.

“Well, here we are again,” said Maggie. “Back in our clubhouse.”

“It seems like a million years ago instead of only one,” said Lisa. “I’m happy to be here.”

“I’m happy we didn’t have to read a book,” said Eva. “So I didn’t feel guilty for not reading it.”

And there was laughter.

“I don’t know how I waited this long to tell you, but I wanted to do it in person,” said Maggie. “I have some news.”

She held up her left hand.

“Holy bling,” said Eva. “It’s gorgeous! And you’re going to be a blushing virgin bride…again!”

Maggie laughed. “Well, I’m not going to wear white at my age!”

“Congratulations, Maggie!” exclaimed Lisa. “Oh, it is so lovely. And I’m so happy for you!”

“I’m happy too, girls,” said Maggie. “Thanksgiving night Dave proposed—again!—at our table with the girls and Erica’s boyfriend, Al, there. It was really sweet.”

“I don’t remember what your first engagement ring looked like six or seven husbands ago when you were married to Dave the first time, but I feel like this one is a little nicer,” said Eva. “Not to sound materialistic…but hello cushion-cut two carats from Tiffany!”

“How did you know all that?” asked Maggie, astounded.

“Oh, I don’t really,” said Eva. “But I’ve seen some engagement rings over the years at the law firm, and I know a Tiffany platinum setting when I see one.”

“I have never received the famous blue box,” said Lisa.

“My first one,” said Maggie. “And no doubt last!”

“Yes, you’re going to be all done getting married after this, right?” asked Eva. “Because there really isn’t even such a thing as an upgrade on that hardware!”

“Or that husband!” said Maggie. “I’m really happy.”

“Do you have wedding plans?” asked Lisa.

“Oh hell no,” said Maggie. “Haven’t even thought about it!”

“You should think about having the wedding on the island,” said Eva. “Sharps Island Inn is the most beautiful place. You can see both the sunrise and the sunset from that one spot. The photos would be gorgeous.”

“I’d love to bring Dave down to spend a weekend there so we can check that spot out!” said Maggie. “Great idea. And I’d like to ask the two of you if you’d honor me by picking out the two most hideous vintage bridesmaid dresses in my shop and being my bridesmaids!”