She thought about his face earlier, when she’d slowly undressed for him the way she had when they’d first been together. He’d looked younger, too, hot eyed with desire, and it had been very, very good. She was still pleasingly aware of herself, a slight soreness in her muscles and skin. She was filled with triumph as she handed over her credit card, smiling at the assistant. She’d pulled it off, and Charlie would never know. She’d successfully rebooted her marriage and everything was OK. She looked at her watch. Time to go home and get ready for the kids.
Sixteen.
It was nearly four, and Frances was herding Theo and Kate down toward Anne’s house just as Richard pulled up in front of it. He got out and started toward Anne’s door, not seeing the kids until he was nearly on top of them. His arrival at the end of Anne’s path coincided to an almost comical degree with theirs, and both parties came to a polite halt. The front door opened and Anne called to the kids, not seeing Richard until the words were out of her mouth. To add to the general Marx Brothers–ness of the moment, Charlie’s car pulled up in front of the house and parked behind Richard’s, and his kids started bouncing up and down and calling, “Daddy!” in amazed tones, as if he’d just returned from several years in exile, rather than eight hours at the office. Anne went pale and turned to see if Frances was there. She was, and she was moving. She was pretty sure the guy on Anne’s path was her boyfriend, and she was one hundred percent confident Charlie was about to run into him. But don’t worry, sister, said her swift, sneakered footfall, the cavalry was on the way.
Charlie got out of the car and walked around, grinning at the kids, his eyes only on them. They threw themselves at him, presumably overcome by the surprise of seeing him in the street, rather than in the house. What the hell? their little faces said, we didn’t see that coming! Kids were like dogs in this way: happy to unexpectedly see you. Although, unlike dogs, they were also just as likely to hate you and blame you for everything, including the weather and the physics of bodies in motion. Lally and Lucas, who had been left to clamber out of the car alone, started bleating after Frances, sensing that something interesting was going on. Ava, of course, had already gone into the house, earbuds on, head down.
Had Charlie’s car pulled up ten seconds later, or had Anne opened the door ten seconds earlier, or had Richard known anything at all about the public-school timetable, this situation would never have happened. But, you know, life is hilarious that way.
Richard was halfway up Anne’s path when Charlie noticed him. Richard was looking at Anne, and suddenly put it all together. Until that split second he’d thought she’d opened the door for him, and that the adorable kids were just local color and not two tiny horsemen of the apocalypse. The realization that they were her kids, and that therefore the man they were hanging on was almost certainly her husband, made him freeze in place like a rabbit. This inability to multitask and improvise is why women are just better.
“Hey, wrong house, doofus!” called Frances, smiling widely. “Hey, Charlie, how’s things?”
“Good,” replied Charlie, frowning and trying to parse the scene. Frances moved past him and hailed Richard again.
“We’re one forty-two, not one thirty-two, goober.” She had reached Richard and gave him a hug. “It’s just as well I caught you before you embarrassed yourself by going to the wrong house, right?”
“Right,” said Richard, struggling to catch up. He looked over at Anne, who looked, if anything, slightly annoyed. “Sorry.”
Kate and Theo blew past them and hurtled into the house, telling their mother about how bizarre it was their own father showed up outside their own house. Charlie was behind them, and paused politely for an introduction.
“Charlie, this is Phil. Phil, this is Charlie, my neighbor.” Richard stuck out his hand, automatically, and he and his lover’s husband shook hands politely. Fortunately, Anne missed this cosmic ridiculousness, having already turned blindly to follow her kids and shake some crackers into a bowl. She’d turned her life and fate over to the gods, in the earthly form of Frances. Besides, nothing could go wrong now, she’d already fixed this problem, hadn’t she? She’d done the right thing.
“Nice to meet you, Phil,” said Charlie with his usual easy charm, and then he paused again. “How do you two know each other?”
“School,” said Frances.
“Work,” said Richard.
There was a pause. “Both,” amended Frances. “School for me and work for him. He works at the art college, and Ava was thinking of applying. We know each other through a mutual friend, and he came over to chat with us about the application process.” This sounded utterly lame to her, but it was what she had at that moment. Fortunately, Charlie wasn’t considering the possibility of her lying to him, as she’d never done it before, and took it at face value.
“Wow,” he said, “you’re way ahead, aren’t you?” He laughed. “What’s next, visits from Harvard and Yale?”
“That’s next week,” said Frances. “Come on, Phil, let’s let Charlie get on with his evening.”
“Of course,” said Richard, pale but pulling it together. “I could use a cup of coffee, it’s been a long day.”
“I bet,” said Frances.
“Well, see you around,” said Charlie, heading in to his wife, a small jewelry box hidden in his suit pocket. He’d spent more than usual, still reeling from the sexy Anne who’d appeared that afternoon. The door closed.
There was a pause, and then Frances turned and started walking away, followed by Richard, Lally, and Lucas, like a gaggle of goslings.
They’d reached Frances’s house before she gathered herself enough to turn and face
