Between Husbands and Friends (12 page)

I opened the door and collapsed onto the seat. It was bliss to sit, and for a few moments that was all I did. I was slightly uneasy about leaving Kate at the bar, but she was a big girl, she could take care of herself. She wasn’t drunk. She’d get home okay. And I had promised the babysitter we’d be back by midnight. I put the key in the ignition.

At home, all was quiet. Sadie could walk home; good thing, since I didn’t want to leave sleeping children alone. Kate was still dancing. I smiled. I couldn’t blame her.

I checked on the children one more time, then fell on my bed, exhausted. My teeth could wait until morning to be brushed. My entire body felt like a lead weight. I went out like a light.

I woke at three in the morning, sitting up, heart pounding in alarm. It wasn’t that I’d heard something. It was more that I hadn’t heard something. I went through the house without turning on a light; I knew the house well and the summer sky was bright with moonlight that fell through
the windows in silver strips.

Kate wasn’t in her room. I checked Margaret and Matthew; they were fine. Kate wasn’t downstairs, passed out on the sofa, or in the kitchen having a drink of water. She wasn’t in the house.

“Damn it, Kate!” I whispered. What should I do? What
could
I do? Call the police and report a truant mommy? I knew from rumor, not experience, that there were parties on the beaches every summer night; perhaps she had gone off with someone. That had to be what she was doing. I imagined her dancing on the sand, the ocean lapping nearby, streaked with moonlight. I was sure that was what she was doing. Wasn’t I?

I took two aspirin and curled up on the sofa, fuming. How irresponsible of her, how selfish, how arrogant! Here I was, feeling like her mother, worried that she’d been in a car wreck or abducted by drunks. I curled down into the cushions, resting my head on the arm of the sofa. Could I describe the guy she was dancing with to the police? He was tall. He had a ponytail. Black hair, or maybe brown; it had been too dark to tell and I hadn’t really paid attention. He was cute, there was a helpful clue. I moaned. Most of the young adults had to work; wouldn’t they have gone off to bed by now?

Had Kate gone to bed with that guy?

My eyes flew open, as if I could see her.

Kate wouldn’t go to bed with that guy. She loved Chip. She had a happy marriage.

What if that guy were assaulting her in some way? Perhaps I
should
call the police.

But they wouldn’t do anything. Not yet. Kate wasn’t really missing. If she wasn’t home in time for breakfast with her son,
then
I’d call the police.

I looked at my watch. It was almost five o’clock. My mouth was stale and my skin felt like leather. My eyes burned. I was dizzy. I needed a shower. I needed to brush my teeth. I desperately needed to sleep.

I closed my eyes and let my body sag into the sofa. I was almost asleep when I heard a car approach. I shot straight up in the air and went to the window and looked out. The car passed on by. I returned to the sofa.

“Lucy,” someone said softly.

I opened my eyes. Kate was bending over me. I was sprawled half on, half off the sofa, and my neck and shirt were wet with drool.

I sat up, wiping my chin with my hands, pushing back the straw that had once been my hair, trying to orient myself in this world. “Where have you been?” I looked at my watch. “It’s six-thirty. Where the fuck have you been?”

“Lucy, we just went to someone’s house.”

I stared at her. Kate looked different. She was somehow different. She was shining.

“I’ve been frantic with worry about you,” I said. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So I see,” she said wryly.

“Damn it, Kate, this is not funny! I almost called the police! I thought you’d been kidnapped or assaulted or something!”

Instantly her expression changed. “I’m sorry, Luce. I was having so much fun, I just didn’t think.”

“I guess you didn’t.”

Kate sat down next to me, and put her hand placatingly on my arm. Her clothes were rumpled and disarrayed … but then, so were mine. Her cheeks were rosy. She smelled like sex.

Kate smelled like sex.

“Where did you go?”

“I told you. Someone’s house.”

“To do what?”

“What do you think? To dance. To hang out.” She stood up. “I’m going to take a shower.”

I rose, too. “Kate, you can’t just walk off like this. We need to talk.”

She turned. The smile on her face was somehow indulgent. Condescending. “All right. Talk.”

“I don’t think what you did was right. I had no idea where you were. You didn’t call me. You could have called me. I was really worried.”

“Come on, Lucy, don’t be so stuffy. I’m a grown-up.”

“I know that. And I’m not being stuffy. You left your son here, didn’t you think about him?”

“Sure I did. I knew he was with you. I knew he was safe. So I had fun. I had a wonderful time, Lucy, and I don’t regret it. I’m sorry that you worried about me, but get over it. I’m here now.”

“And all you’re going to say is that you went to someone’s house?”

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“I think you do.”

“Well, I’ve told you all I’m going to tell you. I had a wonderful night, and I’m not going to spoil a second of it by sharing it with you when you’re in such a pissy mood.”

I stared at Kate, my heart pounding. “Jesus. I don’t even know you.”

“Mommy?”

We both turned. Matthew was at the bottom of the stairs, looking into the room at us.

“Hi, honey,” Kate said. “Did we wake up you?”

“Uh-huh.” Matthew rubbed his eyes.

By now the room was bright with sunshine.

“You know what, Kate?” I said, my voice falsely cheerful. “You left me alone to care for the kids without consulting me. Now I’m returning the favor. I’m going to bed now. I’m going to sleep as late as I want.”

“Fine with me,” Kate said, her voice edged. “I’m not sleepy anyway. Come on, Matthew. Curl up on the sofa with me, honey.”

I looked in on Margaret one more time; she was sleeping like an angel. I shut my bedroom door, stripped off my clothes, and fell into bed. This time when sleep reached up to claim me, I let it take me under.

I woke at one o’clock in the afternoon, feeling groggy and hung over. The sky was overcast; the air cool. I looked out the window and saw Margaret and Matthew playing Frisbee in the backyard. By the time I had showered and washed my hair and brushed my teeth, I felt better. I wanted coffee. I wondered how Kate was holding up.

I found her in a rocking chair on the back porch. She wore sweatpants and a long white shirt and had her hair pulled back in a ponytail. No makeup. She looked fabulous. She looked radiant.

“Good nap?” she asked.

I nodded. “How are the kids?”

“Happy as larks. I took them to the library and to get videos. Walked them all over
town.”

I settled onto the wicker swing and sipped my coffee.

“Want to talk?” Kate asked.

“Please.”

Kate looked out at the backyard. The M&Ms were picking berries from a shrub and mashing them into the Frisbee, muttering imprecations over the mixture. Kate said, “I slept with him.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.” Kate met my eyes. “Lucy, it was wonderful.”

“I don’t believe this.”

“Believe it. I did it, and it was the best thing I’ve done for myself in years.”

“Kate … Kate, who is he?”

Kate laughed, a throaty, smug, delicious chuckle. “His name is Slade. He’s twenty-four. He likes to ski and swim. He just goes where the action is and works as a waiter and has fun. He is completely irresponsible.”

“Not too irresponsible to use a condom, I hope,” I snapped.

“Don’t worry, Mom. We used a condom. I should say condoms.” Kate leaned toward me, her face glowing. “Lucy, it was just astonishing. I’ve never had sex like this. I’ve never felt so free, so totally carried away.
We made love all night long.
”

Margaret and Matthew came up to the porch, went in the house, and returned carrying a doll and some pots and kitchen utensils.

“Betsy’s sick,” Margaret said. “Matthew’s a doctor. He’s going to give her some medicine.”

“That’s good, sweetie,” I said. I would have said it if they’d been carrying the Cuisinart outdoors. I was too stunned to think.

It was true that Kate and I had developed a kind of conspiracy, not so much against our husbands as in the aid of being female. Over the past year as we’d become closer and closer, we’d complained about our husbands’ faults and made fun of certain particularly amusing habits.

But we loved our husbands. We were happily married. If our sex lives were sometimes less than amazing, it was understandable. Anyone with young children had to forfeit a bit of quality sex.

“I don’t know what to say,” I finally admitted.

“You’re shocked.”

“Yes. I am.”

“I’ve never done it before, Lucy. Never been unfaithful to Chip. And it can’t hurt him. He doesn’t ever need to know.”

I thought about Chip. Over the past year he and Max had become friends; but then Max could be friends with just about anyone, and was.

Of course Max and I had discussed Chip and Kate thoroughly, just as I was certain they’d discussed us.

Why doesn’t Chip talk more
, I’d asked my husband.
He’s a lawyer, after all.

He’s not a trial lawyer
, Max pointed out.
Chip’s one of those guys who read the mind-numbing fine print in eighty-page contracts.

I think Chip’s vain, don’t you?
I’d continued.
I mean, the cost of his suits, his shoes. And everything is so perfect.

He’s not any more vain than Kate
, Max retorted, protecting his gender.
And don’t forget, he works for one of the most prestigious firms in Boston. Image is crucial. It’s a responsibility.

I couldn’t live like that
, I’d sighed, and snuggled close to my cozy husband.

Chip was happiest when we were doing something physical. When the men came to Nantucket the summer before, Chip had rented a sailboat for the day and had been in his element, hauling up the heavy canvas sail, tying intricate knots in the rope, trimming the sails. His play with the M&Ms was the best; he chased them, held them by their ankles and flung them around in circles, spent endless amounts of time supporting them in the salty waves of the harbor as they tried to learn to swim or float. In the evenings, when the children were asleep, Chip initiated card games or board games, while Max wanted to watch the news and discuss world events. I had assumed that because he was such an athlete, he would be a good, vigorous lover.

“Aren’t you happy with Chip?” I asked Kate.

“God, yes,” she said. “This has nothing to do with Chip.”

“Has he had affairs?”

“Of course not! Look, last night hardly qualifies as an affair.”

“What would you call it?”

Kate leaned back against the rocker and closed her eyes. She smiled. “Therapy,” she said at last. “Let’s call it therapy. Just what I needed, and ever so much less expensive.”