His Other Wife (24 page)

“You were just doing what you and Laura always do. You were encouraging her. You were telling her everything would be okay.”

“But it wasn’t okay.”

“But Emily, of course you thought it would be okay. It’s always been okay. Always.” He found another tissue in his pocket.
He dabbed at a tear that had frozen on her cheek.

“I was at our favorite shop yesterday. I found a skirt on the sale rack Laura would have really liked. It
looked
like her, blue and white striped, the turquoise blue that matched her eyes. I pulled it off the rack. I turned around with
it in my hand. I was going to turn around and show her.”

Seth pulled her against his chest.

“The color of the ribbons on the daisies,” she said, sobbing. “That was the color of that skirt.”

“Em.”

“We have to be there for each other, Seth. Even after we break up at the end of summer. We share this. I need to know you’re
there.”

“I’m here, Emily,” he said.

Seth knew he couldn’t hide anymore. He needed to be there to support the Moores. Who knew how many times he and Emily would
need to talk before they could go forward with their lives? Who knew?

L
aura Moore’s memorial service lasted over an hour. Many of the girl’s classmates stood and spoke. Various aunts, uncles, and
cousins had anecdotes to tell. A family friend read a eulogy. Laura’s senior picture was framed, displayed on an easel at
the altar. Roses, daylilies, and ferns stood in featherlike fans in their vases. With a few variations, everyone repeated
the same thing: “Such a lovely young woman. Such a loss.” Emily reached across Seth’s leg and grabbed his hand. Their fingers
braided together. Seth was bouncing his knee and his jaw was clenched and he didn’t move. Tears dripped from his chin.

Eric and Pam sat on the other side of Emily. The concierge at the hotel had found a babysitter for them, so they could be
here for Seth. After the service ended, the minister invited everyone to gather in the fellowship hall for a meal. And Hilary
did what she always did when she found herself in a big crowd and she wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. She headed straight
to the kitchen and asked what she could do to help.

“Oh, thank you!” a dear frazzled lady said, then promptly sent Hilary on her way with two huge salads for the buffet table.
After that, she restocked dinner rolls and those little gold packets of sweet-cream butter, which were being kept cool in
a bowl of ice. She gathered up used glasses on a tray. She had never been much of a dishwasher; she’d managed to skip that
particular duty during her odd-job college days. Someone who was more familiar with the industrial kitchen showed her how
to organize the glasses in the rack.

As Hilary removed glassware from the machine, steam enveloped her face. She shoved her hair from her eyes and looked around
for a spare towel. That’s when Hilary noticed Pam doing very much the same thing that Hilary was doing. Pam was carrying dirty
plates to the counter and setting them beside the sink. Hilary glanced at her, made herself glance away.

Hilary found a towel and began to polish glasses. She wiped stray water droplets from them and loaded them on the cart. Just
as she pushed the cart toward the double doors, another kitchen volunteer shoved her way past. She balanced two empty platters
on one hand and headed for the stove.

She opened the oven door and yanked out a pan of fried chicken. The pan clattered to the counter. She slammed the oven shut.
“I can’t believe that boy has the guts to show up here,” she said as she brandished a pair of tongs. As she reloaded the platters
with chicken, she was so angry that her hands were shaking. “If that
boy
hadn’t talked her into it, if that drunk kid hadn’t dragged her up the rocks, Laura would still be making plans to go off
to college. She’d still be thinking about decorating her dorm room. She’d still be making plans for her future instead of
this
.”

Ice coursed through Hilary’s veins. Across the way, she saw Pam raise her head. Of course, Hilary knew people were out there
saying things like that. But here they were in a church, seeking grace. Here they were remembering Laura, trying to heal.

“Let me tell you, you couldn’t punish that kid enough for what he did.”

Hilary’s hand spun the rag inside the glass. The only thing she could do was stare at her fist twisting inside the goblet.
Across the room, Hilary knew Pam had heard what the woman said because Pam started scouring plates so hard that lettuce fluttered
in every direction. Beans flew into the trash can. Pam dashed the dishes into the sink, making a horrible racket. When she
aimed the heavy commercial sprayer at the plates and let the water surge, Hilary wasn’t sure what she expected from Eric’s
other wife. Pam was hanging on to that sprayer like she was about to turn it on somebody. Hilary was just waiting for Pam
to aim the water across the room at the volunteer and shout,
Don’t you know that’s his mother over there? You can’t blame Seth for this because
she
could have stopped him! You have to blame
her. If Hilary knew anything about Pam at all, it was that she didn’t do well controlling her emotions.

The woman hoisted the two platters of chicken and balanced them precariously on two hands. Just as she was about to shove
her way out through the double doors, Pam whirled and asked, “How can you resent Seth being here?” She dropped the sprayer
in the sink. “How can you talk about punishment when that boy’s already in so much pain?”

Chicken Lady went pale. Apparently she hadn’t expected anyone to challenge her idle gossip. The platters bobbled in her hands.
She looked for a place to set them down but couldn’t find anywhere to leave them.

“What happened up there that night was an accident,” Pam said. “That poor boy is devastated. And I admire him a great deal
for wanting to be here.”

The woman held the doors open with her behind. “Look,” she said. “This chicken needs to go out on the table.”

“We’ve already lost one kid over this,” Pam said. “If you make Seth Wynn go through more than he’s already going through,
then we’re going to lose another. Is that what you want?”

The kitchen volunteers had stopped working to listen. Hilary stood with her eyes closed, her hand over her heart. How could
this be Pam? Standing up for Hilary’s son! Her knees went weak, she was so grateful to Pam for supporting him. It would have
been so easy for Pam to grab another victory here, to make sure that Hilary had been the one nailed with defeat.

Pam said, “You mustn’t single him out like he was the only cause of what happened. At least three dozen kids out there happened
to be at that party. It could have been any of them,
any
of them.”

Chicken Lady figured it out. “Of course you’d say that. You’re his stepmother, aren’t you?”

Hilary joined in. “He is a young man who has to live with this the rest of his life. Maybe Seth was at the wrong place doing
the wrong thing, but so were a lot of others.”

“I’m sorry,” the lady said. “I didn’t realize you were family.”

“Everyone out there in this community is family,” Pam said. “When there’s a young man out there and he’s taking this so hard,
how
dare
you make it worse for him?”

When Hilary left the cart and glasses behind and went in search of Seth, she couldn’t find him. He wasn’t anywhere around.
She tried the sanctuary again, where she thought she might find him sitting, staring at Laura’s picture. She tried the patio
outside where the teens had gathered. Remy greeted her. Ian waved. Several of the girls offered hugs and said they were glad
she was there. “No,” they said in unison when she asked. They didn’t know where to find Seth. They hadn’t seen him in a while.

As Hilary climbed the stairs and squinted down the length of a dark, deserted hallway, she called, “Seth? You here?”

She considered the likelihood that he’d fled after Pam’s tirade in the kitchen. She was thinking, yes, Seth needed protection,
but it wasn’t the sort of flailing, offended defense Pam had been offering. And it wasn’t the misdirected duty Eric wanted
to heap upon the two of them as parents. The only thing Seth and Hilary could rely on was the quiet, strong safeguard of the
Lord. The Heavenly Father would be there for them, however they needed him.

Hilary’s voice echoed down the empty corridor. She tried dozens of doors lining the hallway. She searched each room that wasn’t
locked. She asked everyone she knew if they’d run into Seth since the service.

Downstairs she found Emily huddled among a group of girlfriends, with hands shoved into sweater pockets and mascara smudged
beneath her eyes like two bruises. She was biting her bottom lip and jiggling her knees and Hilary knew, even from this far
away, that she was only pretending to be a part of the conversation. She stood there with her head bowed, her weight balanced
on the balls of her feet, sort of bouncing her knees to keep from crying.

Hilary had no choice but to break into the circle. She gripped Emily’s shoulders. “Em? Honey, have you seen Seth?”

Emily looked at Hilary like she was holding her breath underwater. It was Hilary’s question that broke through to the surface,
forced Emily to take a gasp of air. “He isn’t here.”

Hilary froze.
Emily knew something
. Hilary’s chest knifed with fear. “Did he leave? Where did he go?”

But Emily was shaking her head.

“Did he tell you?”

Emily bit her lip so hard that Hilary saw flecks of blood oozing to the surface.

“Em, how long has he been gone?”

Emily shook her head, helpless, didn’t speak.

“Emily, please. You’ve got to tell me, sweetie. For Seth’s sake.”

She opened her mouth to answer and, as quick as that, she was bawling, huge swallows of air — that sort of jagged hoarse weeping
that, when you see it, makes you wonder if someone can even breathe.

“He…made me…promise.”

By now all the young women, Class of 2011, had realized they had another friend in trouble. They were quick to surround Emily,
to place a reassuring hand on her elbow, to draw the circle closed around her.

“Something he…had…to…do.”

Hilary had a wad of Kleenex in her pocket. She handed the girl several. Emily clutched them inside her fist as if she didn’t
have any idea what to do with them.

“He made you promise, Emily? What did he make you promise?”

Emily gripped her arm. “He wanted to go out
there
again. I told him…it was…crazy.”

“Where, Emily? Where did he go?”

“That awful place —”

“The —” Hilary felt like she’d just been hit in the chest with a club.
Seth was on his way to the campsite.

“I don’t know why he —”

“Is that where he’s gone, Emily?” Hilary was frantic. “Has he gone to the place where Laura fell?”

Emily nodded.

Hilary wheeled for the door. Emily grabbed her by the arm. “I want to go with you.” Just as they were leaving, Eric and Pam
came into the room.

“Eric?” Hilary asked. “Have you seen Seth?”

“No. I haven’t. Isn’t he here?”

“Emily thinks he’s left. That this was —” Hilary didn’t say the rest:
Too much for him.

“Is the truck still in the parking lot?” Pam asked. “Have you looked?”

“It isn’t there,” Emily said, tears pooling in her eyes. “I was already out there looking for him. I wanted to talk to him
and tell him not to go. To make sure he was okay. But I remember where he parked it this morning. He’s gone.”

“I’ll get my purse,” Pam said.

“I’ll drive,” Eric said.

Hilary still had her sleeves rolled up from helping in the church kitchen. She took a deep breath and started to run. Together
they steeled themselves for whatever would come next.

Emily knew how to get to the campsite and so did Hilary, because she’d driven past the turnoff only days before. The whole
time they were headed toward the state park, they were driving farther into the thornbush, weaving through stands of water-worn
limestone and billows of shrubs, Hilary stared out the window without seeing anything.
I committed my case to you that night on the schooner; I’ve left it with you. I don’t have to ask anything more of you. Seth
belongs to you; he’s in your hands.