His Other Wife (3 page)

Oh, Father, help me. Not for her I don’t.

“I hope you don’t mind me calling.”

“Pam.” After that, Hilary stayed silent, letting the silence answer for her. She wasn’t going to lie.

“For Seth’s graduation I’m interested in finding a hotel close to your place. It’s hard to tell about these from the Internet.
Could you tell me which is best?”

“You want my opinion about a hotel?” Hilary asked, incredulous.

“Eric told me about one. What’s it called, the Omni? I’m worried that if I don’t make a reservation now, everything will be
full.”

“The Omni,” Hilary repeated. And then, pointedly, “I’m surprised you don’t already have information on Chicago hotels. I know
you’ve stayed here before.”

If Pam recognized this as a jab, she ignored it. “You know how it is. Everything looks great in the pictures. I’ve read all
the TripAdvisor reviews and the posted rates. But there may be better rates if someone phones directly.”

“Eric isn’t staying with his family this time?” The elder Wynns lived an hour-and-a-half commute to the north. Of course Eric
would want to be close to graduation activities. “You’re making the reservation for Eric?”

“For Eric. And for me, too. We’re both coming.”

“Oh. I see.” Hilary hoped Pam didn’t hear the catch in her voice, but there wasn’t much chance of that. “I’ll need to get
back to you. Would that be okay? I’m having coffee with friends.” How mundane a date at Spilling the Beans sounded compared
to the impressive things Pam must be doing today, pursuing her career as an interior decorator. The last time they’d talked,
Eric had told Hilary how Pam was designing an office for Liam Neeson.

“I’ll send you a list via e-mail. You can look it over and phone with the information later,” Pam said. “Or maybe you could
find out if any of these places offer a local discount. I’ll bet we could get a cheaper price if we used your local address.
You could make the reservations yourself.”

“Oh, I see.”

“If it worked that way, you could call me with the confirmation number. Would you mind that?”

The words popped out of Hilary’s mouth before she could stop them: “Why would
you
want to come? You aren’t Seth’s mother.” This was always how she got into trouble. All this time she’d been picturing Eric
coming alone for Seth’s graduation, the three of them spending a few hours together, she and Eric sending their son off as
best as they could, considering. The three of them pretending to be the family that they weren’t anymore.

“We’ll need two rooms for three nights.” As easily as Hilary had ignored her question it seemed that Pam also ignored Hilary’s.
“We’ll arrive the afternoon of the thirty-first.”

“Two rooms?” When Eric and Hilary had spent their anniversary there, they’d saved for months to be able to afford it.

“We’re bringing the kids, too. They’re looking forward to seeing their big brother in his cap and gown.”

Hilary knew she ought to be praying, asking God to give her the right words. She ought to be asking for wisdom.
Father, why do I feel like she’s trying to shake me up?
“You’re asking me to make your hotel reservations? For all of you?”

“Well. After all, Hilary, you are the one who knows the area.”

“Eric knows the area. You could have called him instead,” Hilary pointed out.

A brief pause on the other end of the line. “You sound like you don’t want us to come for Seth’s graduation.”

Maybe this was the time for Hilary to say something sarcastic or funny, something to make Pam realize that she couldn’t step
in and turn this family upside down anymore. Hilary had worked her way through so many emotions during these past years. She’d
grieved. She’d grown stronger. She’d learned to be honest with herself. She wasn’t about to say something that might open
old wounds now.

After a lump of silence that felt like it was bleeding between them, Pam spoke in a lowered voice: “Hilary, what you’re doing
isn’t fair. We’re setting this up for Eric’s sake.”

“Are we? I thought graduation was a ceremony for Seth.”

“Seth is Eric’s son and I am Eric’s wife. We have every right to be involved in this special occasion.”

“
Eric
has every right to be involved.” The rest of it hung between them without being spoken.

“Why don’t you come right out and say it?” Pam asked. “Why don’t you admit how much I threaten you, Hilary? Because Eric and
I stand a better chance of making our marriage work than you two ever did.”

A seagull drifted in easy circles overhead, his wings trained into the air, his unblinking eyes searching the ground. He was
off-course, Hilary thought. What was he doing so far from the lakeshore? “What are you trying to do?” Hilary asked, her voice
hard.

“Eric didn’t think you’d have problems with me coming with him. I’m a part of Seth’s life, too.” Hilary realized that the
two of them had discussed how she might react. Hilary was standing on the curb beside North Central Avenue, the ends of her
hair and the hem of her skirt lifting and curling as cars whipped past. She screwed up her nose at the damp air tinged with
sulfur; Chicago was known for its disagreeable smells. But that wasn’t the reason Hilary felt like she was being smothered.
Pam seemed to be waiting for her to agree to make those reservations. And she would never do it.

“I’m sorry, Pam, but I have to let you go.”

“Oh, right,” Pam said. “You were out with your friends. I forgot.”

“Send me your plans when you make them. I’d like to know where you decide to stay.” Hilary flipped her cell phone shut with
guilt-ridden satisfaction.

When she hurried back to the booth inside, Gina, Kim, Julie, and the others were stacking plates, busing the table themselves.
Everyone was in a hurry. Their time was up, and heaven only knew where their conversation had gone since Hilary had left them.
It didn’t matter. Hilary felt incapable of joining in again. She’d been blindsided by Pam’s call. No more joking about frequent-flyer
miles and trips to Times Square. When she caught her friends staring, she realized they must have been able to read it on
her face.

“Who was
that
?” Gina said.

“I can’t believe she called.”

“Who?” Julie asked.

“I can’t believe I let that woman pull me down to her level. I almost lost it. I can’t believe anyone in the world could make
me feel that
defensive.
”

“Who?” Donna said.

“Eric’s wife,” Hilary said, hating the way her composure finally crumbled, how her voice sounded as thin as a hurt child’s
instead of like someone who might actually be able to stand up for herself. “I guess Eric’s bringing the whole family for
graduation. She called wanting me to make hotel reservations for them. Can you believe it?”

It encouraged her because her friends looked as shocked as she felt.

“As if you don’t already have enough to deal with,” Julie said, shaking her head. “The other wife.”

“You can’t be expected to entertain that
woman
,” Donna said, throwing her purse strap over her shoulder like she was donning a military weapon.

It was Gina who stripped Hilary bare with her words, though. She was the friend who knew Hilary best of all. “What did you
say? Did you tell her she’s got more gall than a bladder surgeon?”

“Disgusting,” Kim said. Hilary couldn’t be sure whether Kim was referring to Pam’s actions or Gina’s bad joke.

“What’s that Scripture?” Donna quoted something that sounded like it came from Proverbs: “ ‘The lips of an adulteress drip
honey but in the end she is bitter as gall.’ ”

“You would memorize something like that?” Hilary said.

“Just sort of rolled off my tongue, huh?”

“Don’t say it.” Those words made Hilary’s teeth clench. “I’ve gotten beyond that. Don’t mention words like ‘adulteress.’ ”

“Guess I just believe in calling a spade a spade.”

Gina gripped Hilary’s shoulders and made Hilary meet her gaze while, all around them the lunch rush began and people were
jostling three deep at the counter. “Hilary, you’re only barely making your way through as it is.”

Hilary took a stab at humor: “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Gina. I’m glad you think I’m handling my life so
well
.”

“We’re your friends. Who’s going to look after you if we don’t?”

“We’re not kidding, Hilary,” Kim added. “What are you going to
do
?”

“Invite her to dinner and cook my best sage-chive steaks with arugula salad when she comes. Or maybe I’ll run away. Set up
a new identity in a new place. Which do you think would be easier?”

“Setting up a new identity,” Kim said.

“That woman is perfectly capable of making her own hotel reservations,” Gina said.

Life never gets easier, does it, Lord?
Hilary thought.
Just when you think you’ve got everything under control, something else comes along.

Why did she get the feeling that Pam was trying to initiate a competition between them? Hilary supposed that’s where it started,
two women having a go at marriage to the same man. Pam had ended up with Eric, after all, so why would she have anything else
to prove? But Hilary was the one who had also gone through a divorce with him. Maybe that meant she had the edge. Maybe that
meant she knew Eric better.

“You’ve got to come up with something more elaborate than steaks,” Donna suggested. “You’ve got to make
girl
food. Maybe Thai. Something with peanut sauce. Show her who’s got the edge in the cooking department.”

“Having a Pillsbury Bake-Off is the last thing I want to do during graduation week.”

Julie held the door open for Hilary. “I agree. You don’t need to do that. Just eyeball Eric and see how much he weighs. That’ll
tell you who’s the better cook.”

Donna couldn’t leave that one alone. “Or who’s making sure he gets the most exercise,” she commented.

“Get out of here.” Hilary flung her purse in the general direction of Donna’s arm. “Don’t even say it.” And finally everyone
started laughing, even Hilary.

Donna wrapped her arm around Hilary’s shoulder and hugged her sideways.

“See you at the hospital,” Gina called.

“Thanks for everything,” Julie said.

As Hilary waved good-bye to the others and steered the car toward Englewood General, where she worked, she prayed,
Okay, God. Help me get through this in spite of myself.

She’d done fine up until now. Still, she had to admit that the hurt had lasted a very long time. Pam’s phone call had reminded
her of the struggles, the questions she’d asked, the long months when God didn’t seem to be handing out any answers.

F
or as long as she could remember, this had been Hilary’s mothering credo:
If you feed them, they will come.

She walked in carrying the first of three loads of grocery sacks, filled with Doritos and enough mega-bags of potato chips
to squelch the hunger of a small military brigade. She’d bought a case of brownie mix at Costco, along with massive jars of
bean dip and peanut butter and a six-pack of squeeze cheese.

Hilary had learned that boys weren’t like the tentative, polite girls who visited. Girls opened the refrigerator and made
a careful study.
Oh, Lauren’s mom keeps that same kind of juice; oh, I’ve never tried that salad dressing. Oh, you’ve got
croutons. Boys opened the refrigerator door and just started unloading. They moved through like flocks of starlings, devouring
everything in their path. They would be happy for a while watching television or wrestling with each other or playing Xbox,
and then they would move to the next location where they could find food. Yes, all this time, and Hilary knew she’d been buying
love. But she happened to think it was well worth it.

After stowing the groceries, she headed to the living room. The boys had roosted around the television, howling with laughter
as they alternately fast-forwarded and rewound the digital video on Charlie’s camera, their dirt-encrusted socks propped on
a coffee table that still needed polishing. Armed with an oily rag, Hilary moved three pairs of feet out of the way.
Of course I can
handle Pamela
, she thought as she started to dust. With each swirl of the rag,
It’s my choice if I let her ruin Seth’s graduation.
With each stroke of polish,
Of course I won’t let that happen!

Hilary realized, as she glanced around the room at the boys, that she wasn’t sure that Seth was even
here.
When she heard the car pull into the driveway, adrenaline shot through her. Okay. Maybe she wasn’t as composed as she intended
to be. She felt about as ready to have this flurry of Eric’s family descend as she was to have a colonoscopy. She checked
her watch.

Thank goodness.
This must be Seth showing up in his ancient Plymouth Horizon. That car was ready to fall apart, and she didn’t know where
he’d been. She’d give anything to have another two hours, time to clean, time to run to the florist, too, to buy a bouquet
for the guest room where her mother would be staying.

Hilary had just enough time to check her face in the hall mirror before Seth hit the screen door, all six-foot-one of him.
He plowed past her into the kitchen, throwing open the refrigerator door. He raked through the deli drawer for something to
eat.

Every time he rounded a corner and Hilary looked up at him, she almost didn’t recognize him. He was always bigger than she
remembered.

She reached over his head for the mayo. “I’ll make you a sandwich.”

“No time for that. We’re still working on the senior video.” He spoke all this into the nethermost regions of the fridge.

Ever since this year started, it seemed like Seth had never stayed in place long enough for her to get a handle on him. In
some societies he would already be considered a man. She couldn’t understand some things going on inside him. She’d never
been intended to understand them; they were
man
things, things she hoped he shared with Eric whenever father and son had a visit together. Hilary felt like her heart was
always running to keep up with him, always disconnected.

Seth found the ham and ripped the package open, folding an incredible number of slices into his mouth all at once. “This video’s
going to be good. They’re playing the pass I caught in the Kennedy game.”

“Wow. You should be honored.”

“Yep.” A beat of silence before Seth asked, “When’re Dad and Pam getting here? Have you talked to them today?”

Hilary nodded, hoping her expression divulged nothing. “They should be at the airport by now. Their flight was due about thirty
minutes ago.”

“Are Grandma and Grandpa picking them up?”

“I don’t think so. I think they’re renting a car this time.”

Seth hesitated. “It’s so weird that
she’s
going to be here.”

Hilary knew she had to pull this off; she owed it to him. “Pretty special, isn’t it? All in celebration of you.”

“Can’t believe they’re bringing the ankle biters, too.”

“Pam will do some serious damage if she hears you call her children ‘ankle biters.’ Which reminds me.” Hilary nodded toward
the other room. “How about putting the couch cushions back on in there? Maybe throw away the paper plates and recycle the
cans? Maybe tell your friends we’re having company?”

Seth dashed his hands under the faucet and made a halfhearted attempt at drying them on the towel. He grabbed both of his
mother’s hands and pushed against them while she pushed back, this gentle wrestling a form of endearment that they shared.

Which also reminded Hilary, “How many thank-you notes have you written, young man?”

Silence. Hilary knew what that meant.

“Aunt Dorothy wants to hear from you. She wants to make sure you got the check. She thinks Hank Bonner is stealing things
from her mailbox.”

“
Mom.
I’m
working
on it.” Then a quick turn, a salute with his expensive smartphone. “I’ve got to go help with the video. I promised Emily
I’d stop by and help her fix the gears on her bike, too.” Emily was Seth’s girlfriend. They’d been dating since the homecoming
dance in the fall, and Hilary had to admit that she thought Seth had good taste. “I want to be done by the time Dad gets here.”

As Seth’s eyes lingered on Hilary’s, it was strange, but this time it seemed like he was sensing it, too, the symbolism of
his departure, the waning of a season, the progression of time. “You going to be okay, Mom, with her around?”

“Her?
Who?
” For a moment Hilary thought he was still talking about Emily.

“Pam.”

Hilary almost flinched when Seth said her name.
Just like that
, Hilary thought.
Was it that easy to give myself away?
Maybe she spoke too quickly, but she couldn’t help it. “Oh, I think I’ll manage.”

“It doesn’t seem weird to you or anything? She’ll be in our
house
.”

“Nope,” Hilary lied. “Not weird.”

She saw both pleasure and relief fill his eyes. “Mom, you’re the best.”

“Yeah. You just keep telling me that.”

He bear-hugged her. His letter jacket smelled of all the places he’d gone these past months, faint leather and wood smoke
and school locker. It occurred to Hilary how remarkable it was, how he towered over her now, how she kept remembering holding
him when he was small, his head tucked beneath her chin.

While the boys downloaded digital video into the computer, Hilary overheard them discussing the
other
senior party. Not the chaperoned function, sanctioned by the school, which the PTA had been planning, but the one the parents
all pretended not to know about even though it happened every year.

Hilary straightened a picture frame on the bookshelf while, bit by bit, the boys slipped casual details to her. They intended
to camp together; they’d been gathering sleeping bags and gear for weeks. There was a huge spot reserved for the whole class
in a campground, not too far away. That’s when Hilary realized what they were doing. They were trusting her and testing her
at the same time. They wanted to know what she thought about their plans. Finally, Ian asked, “Seth’s Mom, if you knew about
a party like this, would you let Seth go?”

The frame in her hand contained a photo of Eric and Seth together. Eric was teaching Seth to cast a fishing rod, their arms
in perfect sync, their hands on the reel, their eyes on the red and white bobber. “You want an honest answer?”

But of course they did. This was where Hilary had stood so many times before, her heart straddling a fence. If she was too
strict, she faced the possibility of pushing them away. The more she showed Seth that she trusted him, the more worthy of
trust he became. Yet she was also aware of this: Seth’s age group didn’t always think things through to the end. She’d read
somewhere that a young adult’s brain wasn’t totally developed until twenty-five or so. And they were still decades away from
understanding their own mortality.

“I don’t know. You’d be far away from anyone who could help you —”

“We’d be okay,” Will said.

“— and it seems like a lot of effort after the parents have already put something together.”

Even Hilary could see past what she was telling them. They wanted to be on their own.

She set down the frame and did away with a cobweb on the lampshade. “What I’m going to tell you is what I’ve told you before,
you guys. You can be responsible for yourselves, but you can’t be responsible for someone else. When you get a group together
that big, something usually gets out of hand.”

Chase said, “We’ll be careful.”

“Everybody feels the way we do, Mom. It’s tradition. The seniors do it every year.”

“No matter how careful you are, guys, you know someone’s going to be drinking.” They stared at Hilary with innocent, round
eyes, like they’d never heard that word before.
Drinking
. “That sort of thing comes with a big responsibility. You’ve got to make good choices. And you’ve got to think how you’re
influencing other people.” There, she had said her piece. Seth knew how she felt about it.

“We know that.” A couple of them inclined their heads in assent. She could almost believe they would heed her warning. Ian
asked, “You had a senior party when you graduated, didn’t you?”

Only then did Hilary exercise her right to remain silent.

“See?” Seth said. “It’s the last chance our whole class has to be together.
Ever.
”

And he was right about that, too.

Maybe she was going against her own better judgment, saying yes. But she knew how it worked. If she didn’t give permission,
Seth would sneak around behind her back and do it anyway.

Hilary suddenly felt flippant about her son’s freedom, flippant about her own qualms. Why was she taking everything so seriously,
anyway? Seth was graduating tomorrow. In spite of Pamela and Eric, they were supposed to be having fun. She was tired of grieving.
She was tired of not being able to get past her own feelings so she could be happy for her son.

“I wouldn’t have you miss it, Seth,” she said.

Will jumped on it: “You’d let him go, then?”

“Wouldn’t your parents let you go?” Hilary asked Will. Then she turned to Seth, but she was perfectly aware she was answering
them all. “You’re eighteen. You’ve gotten good grades and you did great on your AP tests. You’re accepted into college with
a scholarship.” Not three months from now, he wouldn’t even be
living
with her anymore. He could be staying out all night and never going to class, and, for a while at least, he wouldn’t have
to answer to anyone.
There has to come a time to let go, doesn’t there, Lord?
“You know how to make the right choices. Right now, I don’t give a…a flying flip what you do.”

“A flying flip?” Seth repeated, grinning. “A
flying flip
, Mom? Really?” He loved to critique her when she said something that was outdated or embarrassing, heaven forbid. He especially
teased her when she said “I’m jazzed” about something. She couldn’t blame him, really. That phrase had stuck with her a long
time. She happened to like being jazzed about things.

She brought in the vacuum cleaner and began to unsnake the hose while the kids turned their attention back to the senior video.
“Should we run this picture of Laura welding metal in the art studio or should we run this picture of her without teeth when
she was seven?” Chase asked Hilary.

“Do you have to choose?” she asked. “I think they’re both cute together. As a set. Laura then and Laura now.”

“Okay,” Chase agreed. “We’ll use both.”

That’s how their time together ended that afternoon, with Hilary standing in front of the TV screen, the vacuum upholstery
nozzle forgotten in her hand. She watched the video shots as they came up, enjoying them as much as the boys did. She gave
motherly suggestions of what they should include in the senior-class video, and what they should avoid. The same way Hilary
had given them her opinion about the party. And for a moment, she felt smug, mistaken into thinking they might have been
listening
. Mistaken into thinking that a mom might actually be able to influence a group of teenagers to be careful.