American Wife

nightstand; naturally, I didn’t know where the key was. From outside, we could hear the sound of the kids shouting and playing in the yard. When I turned around, she still was sitting there. “I hope you won’t discuss this with Ella or your other classmates, because it would make them uncomfortable. All right?” I gazed at her—I was a big believer in the power of eye contact, and not only with children.

“This is a stupid party,” she said. “You don’t even have a pool.”

I forced a smile. “Well, isn’t it lucky that you do?”

“Only at my mom’s house.”

“Why don’t you come downstairs with me?” I said. “I’m about to cut the cake, and I could use your help.”

She stood, adjusting her shorts. So she wasn’t that uncooperative after all, I thought, and then she said, “I bet Mr. Blackwell likes those magazines because the ladies in them are prettier than you.”

She was not a sociopath, as Jadey had claimed, but she was obviously a girl who made herself as hard to like as possible, and thinking this allowed me to feel sympathy for her rather than irritation. The likelihood was that she’d be fine, she’d grow up and have a normal life like anyone else, but what struck me as we stood in the bedroom was that middle school and even high school would probably be very rough for Megan.

I said, “Megan, our families are old friends, and that’s how I know this hasn’t been an easy year for you. But you’re a very good, special person, and I hope fourth grade will be better. Now, I know Ella and some other girls are playing H-O-R-S-E, if that sounds like more fun than cutting cake.”

We walked into the hall, and when we reached the top of the stairs, she said, “I made a three-point basket.”

“That’s terrific,” I said.

“It was in our driveway, and my brother doesn’t believe me, but I really did.”

I patted her shoulder. “I believe you.”

OVER THE PHONE, Charlie said, “Put on your dancing shoes. You’re talking to the new managing partner of the Milwaukee Brewers.”

“Congratulations. That’s amazing, honey.”

“I’m thinking dinner at the club. You want to make a reservation?”

“Charlie, this is great, but would you mind if we eat at home? I need to pack for Princeton, we had a big afternoon here with Ella’s class party—”

“When’s the last time I suggested a night out?” It was true. Besides attending baseball games, it must have been months. “It’s time to celebrate, woman,” Charlie said. “It’s gonna be all over the papers tomorrow, but you heard it here first.”

“I assume you’ve told your family?”

“Just got off the phone with Dad, and I’m about to break it to Arty and John. Ooh boy, but my brothers are gonna be jealous. Should we say seven-thirty?”

“I’m thrilled, sweetheart, I really am, but is there any way I can persuade you that we should eat here? I’m still cleaning up from the party, and—Well, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

“What is it?”

“I’d prefer to wait until you’re home.” It had turned out that Carolyn Thayer hadn’t picked up Megan, that Megan had left in a carpool driven by Joyce Sutter, which meant I’d had to call Carolyn. The conversation had proceeded about as disastrously as it could have—“I’m shocked that you of all people would let this happen,” she’d said, and also, “I hope you know Megan won’t be returning to your house.” And that’s a threat? I’d thought, but I’d been profusely apologetic. While talking to her, I’d realized, not having previously considered it, what a tasty morsel this could be for everyone we knew in Maronee. I might or might not have been able to prevent Megan from repeating to her peers what she’d seen (I shuddered at the thought of kids taunting Ella at swim practice), but would it be naive to hope for Carolyn’s discretion? Perhaps, to protect Megan, she wouldn’t share the story, but I knew that the pull toward gossip was difficult to resist. When I’d hung up the phone after talking to Carolyn, I’d felt the claustrophobia of Maronee, its intermittent oppressiveness.

“Is it something serious?” Charlie was asking.

“I promise we’ll discuss it tonight.”

“Gimme a clue. How many syllables? Rhymes with—”

“At the party, Megan Thayer went upstairs and looked at your copies of Penthouse.”

I cannot say I was entirely surprised when Charlie exploded with laughter. Didn’t I want to be told it was no big deal, that in feeling remorseful, I was being silly? “You think she’s a bull dyke?” he said. “She is built like a linebacker.”

“Just so you know, I had a very unpleasant conversation with Carolyn this afternoon, and I hope this doesn’t turn into some rumor that gets—”

He cut me off. “What conversation with Carolyn Thayer isn’t unpleasant? And darlin’, if word gets out that I look at Penthouse, it won’t be a rumor. You know what? I don’t give a rat’s ass. You think half the men in Maronee don’t beat off to girlie magazines?”

“So if Jadey found out, or Nan—”

He laughed again. “Their husbands are the ones who introduced me to porn. Calm down, all right? And call the club and tell them we want a table for seven-thirty.”

I paused and then said, “No. I’m sorry, but no—we have a big weekend ahead of us, and I don’t want to be frantic catching the plane in the morning. I need a quiet night at home so I can get organized.”

“Lindy, I bought a fucking baseball team today!”