His Other Wife (21 page)

“You should have seen us at the Y,” he was telling her. “Ben jumped off the high-diving board. It took him forever to get
brave enough, but then I waited for him on the ladder and he did it!”

“Seth.”

“Lily’s the cutest thing. She got out and she was so cold that she was shivering and her lips were all blue and I made up
this game called towel monster and started chasing her around with her towel and then she wasn’t cold anymore.”

“Honey, we have to talk.”

But Seth was bursting with more news, too. “Mom, you won’t believe what I found out. I have something to tell
you
first.”

Hilary saw a man jogging past, not a neighbor or anyone she knew, just someone from a few blocks away who was out for an early-afternoon
run. All she wanted to do, at that moment, was throw open the window and shout,
Wait! Wait for me!
She wanted to run away from this, from what she had to tell Seth.

“Lily and Ben told me. Did Pam and Dad tell you they’re having another baby?”

“What?”

“You know. Pam’s pregnant again.”

With everything else on her mind this news shouldn’t have fazed her. But here in this place, on this day, under these circumstances,
it had the opposite effect. Hilary felt ashamed, but this piece of information, small as it might be, was the very thing that
finally pushed her over the edge. The news reduced her to tears. She couldn’t bear it.
Oh, Father. Please. Nothing more.
Seth was watching her, thinking he knew why she was crying. “Mom. I know you don’t want me to like her.”

She couldn’t give Seth the news about Laura now that her composure had crumpled. She had to find a tissue and mop up her face.
Now.

“Mom. I know you and Pam don’t get along. But I want those guys to be a part of my life. I have a brother and a sister.”

Hilary yanked a good number of tissues from the box in the bathroom. She was so distraught that she went through the whole
handful before she could even think about speaking again.

“If I don’t let them be a part of me, I’ll feel like I’m pushing half of my life away.”

“But I’m the other half,” Hilary choked out. She held her hand to her chest. “Make sure you don’t lose
me
.”

“But with you, Mom, I always feel like I have to choose between one life or the other,” he said. “Now, what were you going
to tell me when I came in?”

If she only had to tell him about the new charge that might be filed against him, this wouldn’t be so difficult. But it was
the news about Laura that would devastate him. She couldn’t tell him Laura was gone. Not now. Not this way. She’d failed Seth
in so many ways and maybe she was wrong, maybe she was failing him again by doing this, but she couldn’t break the news to
him this way.

Hilary shook her head. “It’ll keep. I’ll tell you later.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Seth didn’t even push her. He was on to the next thing. He headed into the den to find the remote and turn on the television.

Just as he did, Seth’s phone, still beside Hilary on the counter, gave out a short ping. It wasn’t a call coming in, which
launched his cell into about a dozen different gyrations and a bar or two of a hip-hop song. The short sound meant he had
a text message coming in.

Hilary checked the screen. It didn’t give any hints, but she’d bet it was Emily.

Oh, Father. I’m not going to be able to protect Seth much longer.

Help me know what to say to him. Help me know when the time is right.

Hilary slipped his phone off the kitchen counter into her pocket. Once it was inside her apron, she found the right button
and powered it off.

Seth was flipping through the TV channels in the other room. Hilary was suddenly terrified that he’d happen across some news
station that was reporting the story. What if the news had already been leaked to the media? What if he skimmed past a channel
and saw Laura’s face?

To Hilary’s relief, he paused on a channel that was broadcasting baseball. There was a St. Louis game on, and the announcer
made some comment about the White Sox playing in an hour.

Which gave Hilary the idea she’d been searching for.

“Hey,” she said. “The White Sox play this afternoon. You want to go? Just you and me?”

The TV remote paused in midair. “Nah. You’re kidding. No way we could still get tickets this late.”

“I’ll bet we can,” she said.

“No way we could make it all the way to the South Side in that length of time.”

“Well. We could try.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“We’ll never know if we don’t give it a try, will we?”

Seth was considering it. She could tell by the way he was staring off into nothing with that half smile on his face.

“But Mom,” he asked, “why?”

“Don’t ask me a question like that! Aren’t I allowed to do anything spontaneous anymore? Aren’t I allowed to just treat you
to something when I get in the mood?”

He shrugged.

“Go get your glove.” Hilary hooked the apron over the pantry door, and when she did she was well aware of the dangling weight,
the phone she’d hidden in the pocket. She removed Seth’s phone from the apron and slipped it into her waiting purse. “Come
on. What do you say?”

T
hey were only a few minutes late by the time they got to New Comiskey Park, which made it easy to find a parking lot that
still had a few spaces. Luckily, the throng of fans along 35th Street and Shields Avenue had dispersed, everyone had already
gone inside, and so they didn’t have to wait long at the ticket window.

It was still the top of the first against the Phillies and Bobby Jenks was pitching. Thanks to the afternoon schedule and
Hilary’s willingness to fling around the credit card, she and Seth managed to snag two pretty decent seats. They were in left
field just past third base, prime foul-ball territory. The guy sitting beside them was keeping the stats on his smartphone.

Seth watched the game with his hat brim pulled low to shade his eyes. The hot-dog vendor climbed up and down the aisles, clanging
the lid to his steamer. “Hey.” Seth elbowed Hilary in the ribs. “You want one, Mom? I’m buying.”

Hilary couldn’t eat, not with everything on her mind, but Seth was already signaling for the vendor before she could stop
him. By the time the exchange was finished and everyone had helped pass the little packets of condiments down the row, Hilary
was juggling two buns-with-wieners wrapped in foil and Seth was trying to find places for three more.

“Seth.” Hilary was shaking her head at him. “Really.”

“It’s okay if you can’t eat any, Mom. I can take care of all five.”

“Oh.” Which, in spite of the weight in Hilary’s heart, made her smile. Of course. What had she been worried about?

If they made something in a packet to put on a hot dog, Seth used it. It took him the entire third inning to apply those onions,
the pickle relish, and ketchup
and
mustard. On the field, Vizquel had singled to right, the next player had singled to left (which moved Vizquel to second),
and Hilary would have given anything to be able to enjoy the game with her son and not have this anguish hanging over the
two of them. Seth was totally involved with the play on the field as Konerko struck out swinging and the next player hit a
fly ball out to center. Hilary was so grateful for the moment, for this day, for the seats at a baseball game, for Seth’s
moments of being carefree and happy.

Ramirez hit a homer to center and the crowd went crazy. The lady in front of them gave Hilary a high five and Seth jabbed
his fist in the air as three runs went up on the scoreboard just like that. Everything was delirium. Everyone was happy and
wanting to share it with them. The bittersweet of it didn’t escape Hilary. They were celebrating with total strangers while
the people they knew were hurting, ready to condemn. Seth and Hilary looked at each other for an instant, shook their heads,
and Seth swept his mom into a giant bear hug.

Oh, if Hilary could hold this hour in the palm of her hand! If she could only keep it as a treasure in a box and pull it out
to examine it at her whim! But, just like that, Seth said, “I’ve got to call Emily and tell her about this. A Ramirez three-run
homer! She didn’t even know we were going to be at the game.” He fished in his jeans pocket, looking for his cell, and Hilary
felt a deep spasm of fear.

“Did you see my phone, Mom? I think I must have left it at home. I don’t remember bringing it.”

Hilary found something interesting on the JumboTron and, with her heart hammering, pretended not to hear.

“I think I left it on the kitchen counter. I think I remember putting it there when I first came in.”

A picture of a cute little kid flashed up on the huge digital screen. “Oh, look. Seth. Isn’t he cute? Look at the White Sox
hat.”

“I don’t know why I wouldn’t have picked my phone back up.”

It was the perfect time for Hilary to say,
I don’t, either
. But she couldn’t do that. For a moment, she was terrified he’d be able to borrow a phone from someone else. She was terrified
he’d search for his phone by calling it and, the minute his voice answered after one ring he’d know someone had sabotaged
him and turned the thing off.

But, “Do you have yours with you, Mom? Emily’s got to hear about this! I’ve got to call and tell her.”

Hilary promised she didn’t orchestrate it this way. She promised she didn’t even have enough time to think it through. But
after she’d gotten home from the meeting with John Mulligan, her battery had been almost completely drained. She’d plugged
it into the wall charger and hadn’t given it another thought. Which meant, thank heavens, she didn’t have to lie to Seth.
Because hadn’t she already done enough?

As the innings progressed, her heart felt about as light as an armored bulldozer. Who knew that a baseball game could end
that fast? And as they wandered out onto Shields Avenue amid a horde of rowdy, delighted fans, who were either waiting in
line to buy more White Sox paraphernalia or leading people along the sidewalk in impromptu victory chants, Hilary turned to
her son and suggested, “Let’s don’t go home yet.” He looked at her like she’d finally crossed the line and gone nuts. “Let’s
go get something to eat.”

“Mom. I just ate
five
hot dogs.”

“What? You can’t eat more?”

“No.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s a first.”

“It is
not
.”

“Oh yeah? Go tell that to somebody who hasn’t been buying you groceries for the past eighteen years.”

It took a great deal of time to find the parking lot where they’d left Seth’s truck. They’d been in such a hurry when they’d
arrived, neither of them had happened to note the landmarks as they’d raced toward the ballpark. Finding the truck actually
involved a serious discussion, pointing in opposite directions, and fifteen minutes of sheepish looking around. Once they’d
found the truck, it took another good while to edge their way into the line of idling vehicles and wait for a chance to enter
the freeway. They were almost there when Hilary saw the ramp backed up and had another idea. “Turn left instead,” she told
Seth. “Let’s see what this baby will do. Let’s take the back roads home.”

“This baby
?
Did you just call my truck a
baby
?”

“Cut it out with the old-lady vocabulary lessons,” Hilary said. “Just do what I say.”

Which led them straight from the South Side up toward the lakeshore. The afternoon had dissipated into dusk by the time they
broke out of the neighborhoods and on to the water. What light was left was reflected in tiny copper coins that swelled and
waned along the waves of the lake.

Boats swayed in their slips as Hilary and Seth passed the marina. Lamps had begun to flicker in some of the vessels. Out a
little farther, the party barges had begun their nightly voyages, creeping along the length of the shore so revelers could
have their perfect view of the Chicago skyline awash in a brush of evening watercolor. Hilary imagined the music, the food.
She imagined the happy, untroubled passengers inside. The barges’ illuminated windows laid down streams of candlelight as
they passed.

That’s when Hilary noticed the sign for the sailboat charter company. White incandescent bulbs encircled the sign.
AFTERNOON, SUNSET AND EVENING CRUISES AVAILABLE.

If the sailboat hadn’t been just sitting there bobbing, tied up and moored and waiting for them, Hilary might have been able
to resist. But here was the boat, a beautiful four-masted topsail schooner.

“Hey,” Hilary said. “Let’s go out.”

“What?”

“Park the truck somewhere. I want to take you out on that boat.”

“Now? Tonight? Mom, it’s getting
dark.
”

Hilary gestured toward the sign. “It’s the best time to see the city. You know that.”

“Mom. I’ve seen the city. I was born here.”

This was no tourist-trap putt-putt boat with a set-course schedule, Hilary could tell. The schooner would go where the wind
would take her. She was a gaff schooner, she carried a traditional square rig, and Hilary counted at least a dozen ropes on
her. She probably looked like a trading ship from the eighteenth century when she was under full sail.

Seth swung to the side of the road, turned off the ignition, and looked at Hilary like he’d never seen her before.

“Come on,” Hilary said. “Let’s go sailing.”

“Are you kidding me? We’re really going?”

Hilary took off for the wharf. “You wanted to go floating around with your family for graduation? You wrote a story about
it, I heard. Well, let’s go do it.”

Seth followed her, although he was still somewhat dubious, she could tell. “Mom, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

Hilary was amazed that there was a crew waiting to take the boat out. But it must always happen that way. The brochure stated
it explicitly: For any hour-and-a-half skyline cruise, reservations weren’t accepted. Anyone who got the notion could have
a trip.

She paid their fare and they hopped aboard. They just
went
.

The captain instructed them how to help raise and trim the sails once they’d gotten away from the dock and he’d turned the
engine off. He said that each of them could even take a turn at the wheel if they liked. But as the motor shut off and, one
by one, the sails snapped as they unfurled, Seth and Hilary stood elbow-to-elbow on the leeward deck as the city’s silhouette
slipped past.

The breeze caught the boat and brought them around. Instantly she picked up speed. The sails filled. Whitecaps danced along
the hull. Seth draped his arm around his mother’s shoulders.

“I don’t ever want you to doubt this,” he told his mom, as much in awe of this experience as his mother was. “No matter what
happens, I’m really glad you’re my mom.”

Hilary drank in his words the same way she was soaking up the solitude, the silence out there. And she was thinking,
Oh, Seth. Oh, Seth. I
hope
so. Because I’m going to have to rely on what you say now. You won’t be saying it later.

When a crew member asked Seth if he’d like to learn how to trim the sails, Seth took him up on the offer. Hilary strolled
forward and stood with her hair whipping her face. She pulled strands of it from her eyes. They sailed on, soundlessly, heading
nowhere. Lake Michigan was a dark mirror being silently sliced beneath their prow. When Hilary started to cry, she couldn’t
tell where her tears had come from — the peacefulness of the evening, or the streaming wind, or the hopelessness in her heart.

Hilary scrounged through her purse and found Seth’s phone. When she powered it up, it made a great deal of noise. The screen
told Hilary her son had seven voice messages and double that many texts. And so the bad news must be out. Everyone was looking
for them.

For two beats, maybe three, Hilary balanced the offending cell against her fingers, felt the warmth and the weight of it.
Then she clutched it inside her fist and hurled it as hard as she could, out into the depths of the lake. She might as well
be Matt Thornton throwing for the White Sox, she slung it so hard. As Seth’s phone sailed end over end in slow motion out
toward the waves, Hilary felt like she was watching her soul disappear with it. She was reduced to only this. One ardent,
heartbroken prayer.

Oh, Father.
Her soul was in so much distress, she couldn’t help letting God have it by the bucketful. There was so much she wanted. There
was so much God could give her if he would only look upon her with favor.
Remember your daughter, Lord. I’m so sick and tired of being afflicted with this.

Hilary lost all sense of time; she didn’t know how late it was or even how long they’d been on the water. She might as well
have been standing at the door of the tabernacle. She only knew that she wanted this one thing with complete desperation,
with complete fervor. Her mouth might be moving, but she wasn’t speaking aloud. She was just asking over and over again for
this one particular thing, the one special good thing that she most needed and desired. And maybe this was what God had always
wanted from her. Maybe this was the place he’d always wanted to bring her. She was reaching for him with every bone of her
body, with every pore of her skin.

I promise I’ll let Seth go if you’ll just help him through this. I promise I’ll give him up to you.

From out of nowhere the boat’s captain clutched her shoulder. Hilary started; she hadn’t known there was anyone else around.
But this burly weather-beaten man was in command and he was watching her with hard censure. His fingers felt like a vise on
her collarbone.

“Lady, in this day and age, believe me, I end up with my share of drunk women stumbling around my deck. But I’ve got strict
rules for the passengers who board my ship. I can’t allow any drunken or disorderly conduct aboard this vessel.”

Hilary stared at him. Was that what he thought of her? That she was drunk?

“Do you know what my insurance company would do to me if I let somebody fall overboard? Could lose my whole business because
of it. I’m taking you back to shore.”

Which left Hilary wiping her face with her shirtsleeve, desperately embarrassed. “Don’t take us to shore. Not now. Not yet.”