“We were,” Nick agrees.
“Do you think I should forgive him?”
“Don’t ask me that,” Nick replies, his expression turning serious. “It was bad enough you married him.”
And with that he gets up and walks out, as unexpectedly as he came in.
Twenty-Seven
Bobby
Thursday, October 10th
Bobby is sitting at his desk, waiting. He does not enjoy waiting.
About an hour ago, he’d walked into Goddard’s office to discuss the upcoming performance reviews. At least that had been his ostensible reason. Really, he’d wanted to ask Goddard about the report, which, as it turned out, was sitting on top of Goddard’s desk. The second Bobby laid eyes on the manila folder with The Morrigan’s black crow logo, he knew something was wrong. It wasn’t a gut feeling—it was a logical conclusion. The folder was thick and heavy-looking, which made no sense. The Morrigan was supposed to look into whether Bobby and Eva had an affair. The answer to that did not require dozens of pages.
Goddard had met Bobby’s startled eyes and shrugged. What he did not say sat between them, heavy and invisible: as the accused party, Bobby couldn’t be given access to the report until it was made public—it was an issue of ethics and optics. It was egregiously unfair, but as head of HR, Goddard had to follow protocol. The look he gave Bobby conveyed as much. Bobby was unsurprised. He was equally unsurprised when Goddard asked if Bobby wanted some coffee, with a subtle yet unmistakable lift of his eyebrows.
Bobby had nodded in agreement and Goddard left the room for a total of twelve minutes, giving Bobby enough time to scan the report’s findings while adrenaline coursed through his veins. Goddard had made a lot of noise as he was walking back to his office, giving Bobby a chance to close the folder and return to his position on the other side of Goddard’s desk. He’d done his best to appear casual, though his stomach was sinking with fear. What he’d seen inside that folder was not what he’d expected.
As soon as he returned to his office, Bobby understood he’d made a mistake. Instead of skimming through the report, he should’ve taken pictures of each page, that way he could be perusing them now. He needs to understand exactly why this firm—The Morrigan—saw fit to draw up such a detailed report on Alma Boots. Who’d given them such latitude? But first, he needs to understand exactly what was uncovered. And in order to do that, Bobby needs to wait. He’s confident that Goddard will find a way to get him a copy of the report. Bobby saw it in his face: concern, solidarity. Goddard knows Bobby is a good man. He is a good man, too.
He leans back on his puffy, leather chair. His mind is spinning, lost in a fog of bewilderment. It’s not just the report. Bobby can’t seem to focus on anything these days. Nick and Alice’s guest room has the most luxurious, comfortable bed Bobby has ever slept on, but he still spends most nights awake, haunted by his thoughts.
All he can think of is Gina. This is the longest they’ve gone without regular communication, without sharing meals, a bed, a life. What is she doing now? Probably, she’s with Calan. Is he doing better in school? Bobby checks in with his son daily, but Calan isn’t one to open up—not to Bobby, anyway. They’ve always counted on Gina to bring them together, to make them feel like a family. Especially after the bullying began.
Though Gina denies it, Bobby knows that a part of her—a sizeable one, too—blames him for Calan’s predicament. In her mind, Calan would be better equipped to deal with the bullies at his school if he and Bobby shared a closer bond. “You could teach him how to handle himself,” Gina has said, more than once. As if Bobby knows the first thing about dealing with bullies.
Bobby had never been popular like Nick, but at least he’d been a normal kid. All Calan seems to be interested in are superheroes and video games. Reclusive habits that, quite frankly, piss Bobby off. If his son wants the teasing to stop, he should at least pretend to be into sports. Bobby would gladly help Calan develop a cooler image—he’d go as far as getting him a Playboy subscription or letting him try a sip of whiskey. Why, he’d even turn a blind eye to his dad slipping Calan one of his Cubans—Bobby had tried his first (and last) cigar when he was about Calan’s age. But he couldn’t do any of this if Calan was committed to being a weirdo. He’d once made the mistake of saying this to Gina, who had been so hurt, she hadn’t spoken to him for an entire day.
Now, he’d kill for that to be his biggest problem. Years ago, if someone had told him he’d be struggling to save his marriage, he wouldn’t have believed them. Up until Calan’s troubles in school, his relationship with Gina had been effortless. They’d gone together like ice cream on a cone, like fleece inside a winter boot. It had been that way since the beginning.
Bobby can still picture the first time he saw Gina, in September 2003. He had been paying Nick a surprise visit at NYU, where, as usual, his brother was the Big Man on Campus, with a flock of girls shadowing him like it was their major. Nick’s favorite hobby was tricking girls into believing that they were one guy, which was a challenge back in high school, where everyone knew them, but the easiest thing in the world at NYU. Nick had told him about Tamara, a freshman with pouty lips and pointy breasts, whom he had been banging on a semi-regular basis. Nick was keen on the idea of Bobby playing him for the night, but Bobby wouldn’t hear of it. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get laid (he and Penelope had broken up
