His Other Wife (20 page)

His chin jerked to attention. He looked at his mother. “I did know better, okay? You talked to me about it all the time.”
He took the ball and handed it to her. Hilary dropped the ball onto the table and took a shot that might have landed in the
next yard if Seth hadn’t blocked it and sent it flying in her direction again.

“I trusted you for the wrong thing, Seth. I trusted you to prove that I was right to everyone. No kid should have to do that,
Seth. I expected you to be inhuman. So strong that you could carry the burden for both of us.”

“Mom.”

The ball came to a standstill again. Hilary gripped the foosball handles with both hands, staring at the painted men, their
pointed black shoes, their team colors, their faceless heads. At last she let go, wrapped her arms around herself as if she
were trying to hold in her whole heart. “It was wrong of me to trust you so much, Seth. It was wrong of me to trust you with
my whole happiness. My entire sense of self-worth.”

“You think that, Mom?” When Hilary moved to embrace him, he shrugged her off, looking astonished. “You think you’re wrong
about that?”

“I do.” She shook her head sadly. “I just don’t know how to do it any other way.”

Late the next afternoon, when Hilary arrived home after running errands, Seth wasn’t home. “Seth?” she called. “Are you here?”

Only the silent house echoed back at her.

“Seth?”

There was an inlet that snaked in from the lake about three blocks away from Hilary’s neighborhood. It followed a route that
was nothing more than swamp fifty years ago and ended in a sort of flat-ended gully where Seth and his friends used to play
pirates and catch minnows when they were young.

Whenever Hilary couldn’t find him, whenever she was looking for him and the house turned up empty, she knew that’s where he
would be. She walked up the street, watching the sunset gold over the housetops. Everywhere she looked there were families
in their yards, a man pruning his bushes, a woman shouting for someone to come to supper, a passel of boys playing softball
in the street. She rounded the corner and saw Seth in the distance, a solitary figure against a darkening sky. She felt her
breath catch in her throat.

He was skipping rocks. She could tell by the way he was searching the ground. He found a stone and side-armed it toward the
water.

“Hey,” Hilary whispered as she came up behind him.

“Hey.”

“I came to see if you were okay.”

Seth pitched a rock and only got two skips before it sank underwater. He immediately searched for a better stone. “Yeah, I’m
okay.”

“Then I’m okay, too.” Which was all Hilary needed to say. She didn’t need to teach him more lessons.
Life is going to do that without me, thank you very much.

Hilary considered joining him, but she didn’t. She considered stepping up beside him and helping him scrounge for just the
right rock, but she sensed that would be intruding in his personal space.

“I’m going back to the house,” Hilary told him. “But I was thinking about going to a movie later or something.”

Her feet crunched over stones as she climbed toward the road. She was halfway to the sidewalk when he called her back. “Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For coming to find me. For playing foosball. For standing on the other side of the table and taking my shots.”

“You’re welcome.”

Then he was beside her. “You shouldn’t walk home alone in the dark.”

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

“I know. I’ll come, though.”

It made no difference that she had been walking alone in the dark along these streets for the past twenty years. Hilary had
never been so happy to have an escort. And she could tell something was different between them; the wall had come down. Seth
chatted easily at her side.

Or maybe “chatted easily” would give the wrong idea. It wasn’t like conversing back and forth.

In all of Hilary’s experience with the kids who parked themselves at the house, this was the way she knew it happened. She’d
learned to keep her ears peeled for clues. She’d learned to be a sort of respectful amateur detective. She’d gleaned info
about what was going on in their lives when it accidentally presented itself. And she’d learned whenever one of them got ready
to talk she’d better step back and get ready. Seth didn’t converse. He started to talk and he just
spouted
.

His subjects were all over the board. He let Hilary in on the little-known fact that Laura flirted with him behind Emily’s
back, which really freaked him out. He told Hilary he didn’t know what was going to happen between him and Emily after they
parted in the fall. He admitted he’d like to know what it was like to date people he didn’t know growing up and he told Hilary
he thought Em would like to try it, too.

Hilary peppered his musings with thoughts of her own. “You’re still so young,” she told him. “Anything can still happen. You
don’t want to tie yourself down yet if you don’t have to.”

“I like talking about girls with you, Mom,” he said in a burst of warmth. “You know so much.”

“Yeah, I know so much,” Hilary reminded him. “I
am
one.”

He laughed like he thought that was funny and Hilary gripped his arm.
“Seth.”

“If I
do
go off to school, I’ll probably call and tell you what’s going on. I’ll probably ask your advice all the time.”

“You think so?” Hilary teased him. “If you don’t, I might have to drive wherever you are and stalk you. You know, the helicopter
mom that can’t let go. Always hovering.”

“I’ll probably call you as much as I call Em.”

“Well, that’s something.”

“Emily has been so great these past few days. It’s hard to imagine a time in my life when I won’t care about her.”

“There won’t ever be a time like that,” Hilary said.

He stopped in his tracks and caught his mom’s elbow. “You think so? You really mean that?”

“Sure I do.” Hilary went off on a long-winded explanation about how once a relationship happened, it was always going to be
a part of your life. How it existed even after it ended because it formed a part of who you were.

It didn’t mean that you were still mooning over someone, Hilary continued in her philosopher’s voice, and Seth interrupted
her. “Mooning, Mom? Are you sure you want to use the word ‘mooning’? That’s like from the fifties or something.”

“Yes. I want to use the word ‘mooning.’ It’s my word. A good word.”

“Make me a promise. Will you be careful who you say this stuff to? Where I come from that means something totally different.”

Hilary realized where he was taking her regarding the word “mooning,” and things didn’t seem quite so serious anymore.

“Look. This is what I’m trying to tell you.” Hilary pretended to be exasperated with him even though she wasn’t. He’d gotten
her stuck on the vision of someone mooning someone, and so help her, if she didn’t keep a straight face, she’d do something
ridiculous and let him know she thought he was funny.

“You think about people in your past sometimes. You wonder about them. You wonder how they’re doing, what’s going on in their
lives. You don’t go calling them up or looking for them on Facebook or anything.” Which was a slight exaggeration, because
she
had
spent one red-eyed night checking out a few members of her graduating class to see how certain young gentlemen had fared.
“You just send a prayer their way. A bright thought of gratitude. Wish them happiness. You’ve got your own life now and it’s
good. So you go on.”

“So that’s what it’s like,” Seth said, “now that it’s over between you and Dad?”

Hilary had thought they were talking about Emily. She hadn’t realized she had been leading the conversation in exactly this
direction. “Yes,” she said in a tentative tone that let Seth know she was just now deciding the answer. “Yes. I think it is.”

H
ilary’s cell registered a voice message when she checked it the next morning, and when she flipped open the screen John Mulligan’s
name appeared. She listened to the lawyer ask if she’d be willing to meet him, doing her best to keep her expression bland.

“What’s wrong?” Seth asked as she clicked the phone closed. “What is it?”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Hilary said.

But Hilary
wasn’t
sure. There had been something in John Mulligan’s voice that she didn’t like. The way he’d asked her to join him at a spot
away from his office. The way he’d asked her not to speak to Seth about it before they had a chance to talk.

“What are you doing today?” Hilary asked. “You got plans with Remy? You and Emily going to do anything?”

But Seth shook his head. “Remy starts his new job at the fish market this afternoon. Emily’s going downtown to find some new
shoes.”

“You don’t want to go shoe shopping?” Hilary teased.

Seth grinned, gave a resounding “Noooo.”

Hilary gestured toward the window at the shiny black Ford F-150 that hadn’t moved since Eric had abandoned it in the driveway.
“How about it? Just suppose you take that new truck out for a spin. What do you think?”

“Mom?”

Hilary grabbed the keys and pitched them in his direction. Seth caught the keys in midair. “Come on. You know you want to
drive it.”

“But I didn’t think you wanted me to have it. I thought you were angry at Dad for that. And now you want me to drive it?”
Seth held his palms toward Hilary. “You don’t mind?”

“Of course I mind,” Hilary told him. “Your dad comes in with his beautiful wife and great kids. The two of them can afford
to buy you a truck for graduation, so they do it without consulting me. They make a big show in front of the whole school
so everyone else will see how cool you are and how great they are and I’m left in the background. Of course I mind. I mind
that I’m not the one who could afford to do it. Now go get your derriere in that thing. Stop feeling guilty about it for my
sake and take it for a drive!”

Seth turned back. “Where should I go?”

“Well.” Hilary made a big production of trying to figure something out. “You could drop over by the hotel and spend time with
your dad. You could thank them for your graduation gift. You could thank them for staying here when I’m sure Pam has a very
busy work schedule waiting for her and they’re choosing to be with you instead.”

“I could do that.”

“I’m sure the hotel is boring, but there’s a Y over there on Sixth. Something tells me Ben would love to shoot hoops with
the local kids. Or you know, there’s that waterslide at the pool.”

He didn’t move, which surprised Hilary.

“Well?” she asked. “What are you doing standing here?”

“Mom? Do you really want me to go spend time with her
?
With
Pam
?”

Would Hilary say this if she weren’t trying to shepherd him out the door? If she weren’t going to meet John Mulligan? Maybe
not.

“I do.”

John Mulligan had asked Hilary to meet him in Wicker Park, which was a good way from their neighborhood but only three blocks
from his law firm in trendy Bucktown. Hilary rode the L to the nearest stop, then walked the rest of the distance. It was
a lovely block in which to window-shop; there were boutiques on both sides of the street. Sparrows skittered along the sidewalk.
The sun reflected off the display in a store that sold nothing but silver ticking clocks.

Hilary arrived at the park and expected to spy John Mulligan straightaway. In her mind, he’d be wearing some sort of intriguing
trench coat. She knew it was June, but sometimes imagination didn’t allow for the weather. Ever since she’d sent Seth on his
way in the truck, she couldn’t help feeling lighthearted. By one more degree she’d been able to let go of her son, one more
way she’d been fair. But a tinge of fear kept niggling at her. What had John not wanted to tell her over the phone?

When she opened the gate, it sang on its iron hinges and she realized the meeting wasn’t going the way she’d pictured at all.
John had picked a place where they wouldn’t be so easily found. He’d picked a place they’d both be surrounded by people.

Shrieking toddlers padded across wet ground inside the water playground. Elderly men argued politics around a concrete table.
A woman stooped over a community garden where the hydrangea blossoms were as big around as bowling balls.

The benches were occupied, but not one of them was occupied by John Mulligan. Hilary wandered a bit, growing more confused
and a little angry, until she finally spotted him chatting with a troop of police officers taking a break, their bikes leaning
against the Wicker Park fountain.

Hilary stood within eyesight for a while, watching, waiting for him to glance up and see her. Contrary to the picture she’d
carried in her mind, the lawyer was jacketless, his blue shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows in homage to the sunlit day. His
hair lifted in the breeze as he laughed at a joke one of the officers made. And Hilary couldn’t help feeling somewhat relieved
at John’s demeanor. His news for her couldn’t be too dire or maybe he wouldn’t be quite so casual. But Hilary saw it when
he glanced in her direction. “Oh, there you are!” he said, and right away, as he excused himself from his buddies and approached
her, she was worried again because his eyes filled with compassion when he saw her. “Sorry. You caught me catching up with
friends. Those lucky precinct buggers out on bikes in this weather. Of course they’ll also be out in January, but we won’t
talk about that.” He looked a little longingly back at them.

“What do we need to talk about, John?”

“Why don’t you come with me over here?” John touched Hilary’s shoulder and guided her to the table that had been recently
abandoned by the political analysts. They’d left crumbs. John had to shoo away a pigeon before he could stake their claim.

“John? What is this about?”

He didn’t answer right away. “You took the L?” he asked instead.

“Yes.”

“I’ll drive you home, okay? You won’t want to be out in public after —” He stopped himself.

Hilary’s eyes shot to his. “After what, John? What did I come here for you to tell me?” But maybe she didn’t need to ask.
Maybe that was when she already knew.

“Laura’s gone, Hilary. They lost her this morning.”

That’s when Hilary understood why she had to come alone and why Seth couldn’t know where she was going and why John wanted
them to meet in a public place, so she wouldn’t scream and disrupt things in his office.

It was so
warm
in the park. Bees hummed among the roses. Children were romping in the fountain.

Somewhere inside the cavern of her mind, she heard John Mulligan telling her that Laura’s family had asked the hospital not
to release information yet because they needed the privacy to grieve. From Hilary’s remote, solitary place she heard that
the sheriff’s office had already been in touch with Mulligan’s firm, that the state had responded, that the stakes were now
considerably higher, that the DA was considering filing charges against Seth for involuntary manslaughter. And then, somewhere,
echoing as if in a cave, Hilary heard the lawyer’s voice saying how Laura’s death actually occurred in the wee hours of the
morning, that this much had been helpful, that the timing of the string of events had bought them some time.

“Manslaughter.” Hilary had seen that term a thousand times in newspapers, heard it on the news. But had she
looked
at that word? Felt it in her mouth? “Manslaughter.” Just saying the word made her mouth taste like blood.

John had to physically help Hilary stand and escort her to his vehicle. A few days ago, Hilary had made the decision to be
steady and strong if something like this ever happened. Seth
needed
her to be steady. She buckled herself in the front seat of the lawyer’s Escalade before the questions started to flow. “How
do I tell him?” She was thinking,
John’s a lawyer. He’s gone
through years of schooling and he’s passed the bar exam, probably had to study for it two or three times, so he ought to know
how to word things better than I do
. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You’re the one who knows Seth better than anyone, Hilary,” John said. “This is going to be tough news for him to swallow.
And I don’t know the best way.”

When they turned the corner to the house, Hilary was terrified that Seth was already going to be back, that the new truck
would be nosed up against the garage and the television would be on. But, thank goodness, the driveway was still empty and
the house was still locked. John hurried around the front of the SUV, and when he opened the door for her and she climbed
out he asked, “Do you want me to stay with you, Hilary? Do you want me to be here with you when you tell him?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“I’ll need to see you both in my office as soon as possible. Phone me as soon as the two of you are able and I’ll rearrange
my schedule. We have some regrouping to do.”

Hilary was halfway to the door before she thought to glance back and thank John for the way he’d chosen to convey this news,
the way he’d chosen to support her. He’d driven her all this way so she wouldn’t have to face people until she was ready.
He’d chosen a place with police officers on bicycles and groups of young people reading on the grass. He’d picked a place
with so much life to tell her that Laura had died.

Hilary heard Seth coming home a good three minutes before he hit the front screen. Hip-hop blared from his truck. She could
name the song before he rounded the corner five houses down.

On any normal day she’d meet him in the front yard and tell him in no uncertain terms that he had to turn down his sound system.
That he’d better have respect for the Smiths and the Hendersons and the Hartmans;
they
didn’t want to listen to his music selections.

But today wasn’t any normal day. Hilary stood at the sink with her head raised, waiting. She knew what Seth was doing out
there. He was fiddling with the sound system, adjusting the rearview mirrors for the umpteenth time, making a complete inspection
of the truck’s paint job to make sure there weren’t any nicks.

And then, here he came, bounding into the kitchen with a broad grin on his face, anxious to recount the adventures of his
truck’s maiden voyage. “Oh, Mom. It was so great. You should have seen me on the interstate. I was blowing people away.”

Outside, Hilary could hear the sparrows chortling in the trees as if they were mocking. Somewhere in the distance, a dog was
barking. “And I took Dad out and he showed me how to get it in four-wheel drive when the weather’s bad.”

“Seth.” She shook water off her hands and reached for the tea towel. “I need you to sit down, buddy. There’s something we
need to talk about.”

As if Seth knew her biggest fear, he set his smartphone on the counter beside her, right where she could see it if it started
to ring. He was still so excited about driving his new graduation gift, he hadn’t even heard what Hilary had said. And then
Hilary realized there was more to it. It was obvious he had had a great time with Eric, Pam, and the kids.