Bride & Groom

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Bride & Groom Page 23

by Conant, Susan


  “It can’t have been easy,” I said with deliberate vagueness. “In a way, it was. Oddly. Really, once I started, it was easier to confront Bruce directly than it had been to overlook things and, once in a while, to ask questions and get lies for answers. I didn’t see the therapist after that. I always knew, in one sense, and at the same time, I didn’t know. Both. Equally. It was a bizarre state. I knew about some of them. Bonny Carr. He talked about her. 'My friend Bonny Carr.’ Endlessly. And Laura Skipcliff, the love of his life. That was strictly an emotional affair. A big deal is made of those these days, but let me assure you that it didn’t even begin to cause me the gut-wrenching pain that the real affairs did. Strangely enough, Holly, Bruce didn’t love those women. He loved Laura. But the others were nothing more than his whores. His real affairs had nothing to do with love.” She paused. “Where was I? Yes. The most bizarre feature of the whole catastrophe was its effect on Bruce. I confronted him. And he went completely to pieces. He begged me to stay.”

  “And you did.”

  “With great ambivalence. Great conflict. He admitted everything. In some ways, one of the worst things he’d done was to send me to therapy. I didn’t actually go. Bruce sent me. For help with my paranoia!”

  “It sounds to me as if Mac was the one who—”

  “He absolutely refused. We needed couples therapy. We needed to talk it all out. Bruce insisted that we had to let bygones be bygones. He wanted us to enjoy what we had now and what we were going to have. But he could not endure the guilt. The sight of me ate away at him. One night, I remember, he began to cry, and what he said was, ‘You’ve never done a single thing to deserve the pain I’ve caused you.’ ”

  “So he tried to undo what he’d done.”

  “He tried to eradicate its causes. He tried to atone.” Judith sighed deeply. “He came to see those women for what they were. This morning, of course, he finally eradicated what he saw as the root cause. I have been dreading this all along.” She bent down to seek solace as I’d often done myself, by burying her face in her beloved dog’s thick, clean coat.

  "Judith, did you know?”

  “Bruce stalked those women. He cyberstalked them. Is that the word? On the World Wide Web. Strange, isn’t it? In a way, of course, he knew them intimately, but some of them he hardly knew. It sounds melodramatic to say this, but Bruce led a double life. Once he was jolted out of his trance, once he really got it that he’d almost lost me, and almost lost his real life, this life, he saw those women for what they were. He kept... well, let me show you. I’ll be right back.” She rose. Uli got to his feet. “Uli, wait here, sweetheart,” she said gently. “I have to go downstairs. I’ll be right back. Holly, there’s a bag of liver brownies in the freezer. Your recipe. Could you give him one? Distract him?”

  I did as Judith asked. Uli nibbled at pieces of the liver brownie, and he listened as I babbled nonsense to him, but he’d obviously have preferred to be with Judith. When she came back, he moved toward her as if he hadn’t seen her for weeks. Her face brightened and softened. She was carrying a stack of manila folders. Instead of showing them to me right away, she put them on the table, knelt next to Uli, and hugged him. Then she turned her attention back to me by sliding the folders toward me and saying, “You’re welcome to look at these. In fact, take them! I want them out of this house.”

  I opened the first folder, which was, of course, devoted to Laura Skipcliff.

  “There’s quite a bit about their professional lives,” Judith commented. “Laura Skipcliff. Anesthesiologist. She made a career of blotting out pain.”

  “Victoria Trotter lost her AKC privileges,” I said. “A long time ago. For abusing a dog on show grounds.”

  Judith looked delighted. “I didn’t know that! What I know about her was that she was a drunk. Bruce told me that much. Very little else, I might add. As you can imagine, I read books, a great many, about surviving infidelity, and Bruce read some of them, and every book, every single one, said that it was vital to get everything out in the open, to be able to ask and answer questions. But Bruce simply could not do it. He saw how much pain I was in, and he felt convinced that discussing things would cause me yet more pain. At first, he didn’t even want me to know who these women were, but he came to see that I had to know. It was inevitable that I’d run into some of them. I was humiliated enough as it was without having to take the risk of seeing one of these women socially and not knowing. Of course, when I did see them, it was far from easy. But I wasn’t made such a fool of all over again. And we simply had to keep seeing Daniel Langceil. And Gus. A child changes everything. Gus didn’t choose to have a slut for a mother. It seemed best for me to endure seeing her. And I was so used to being hurt, you see! And then there were chance encounters. That signing and talk that you and Bruce did? Where that scummy little plagiarist had the nerve to show up?” Judith reached out and found the dossier on Elspeth Jantzen, and then pushed it in front of me. “Did you read that manuscript of hers?”

  "I thought it was outrageous. And stupid. Zazar! As if no one would see the similarity!”

  “Yes.”

  “Judith, I had no intention of blurbing her book. I hadn’t decided how I was going to get out of it, but I wasn’t going to do it. You know, I thought that Mac...”

  “That was just a reflex with Bruce. He was generous with his colleagues. Always. His first impulse was always to say yes.” She evidently heard what she’d said. “In more ways than one.”

  “Judith, when did you begin to realize? When Laura Skipcliff...?”

  She winced at the name. “Bruce and I had separate rooms. So it wasn’t as if I’d be aware if Bruce left. And we’ve always been quite independent. I do a fair number of readings and talks. We’d occasionally go to each other’s events, but there was no obligation, and each of us had heard what the other had to say a million times. That night, I went to bed early, and for once, I slept. In the morning, when I listened to the radio, I had to wonder. I knew how terrible Bruce felt. Once he came to his senses, he couldn’t come to terms with how he’d degraded himself. And me. So the thought crossed my mind. But I didn’t take it seriously, I suppose. And an underground parking garage? So, it seemed like an ordinary urban crime. But then when that horrible tarot woman died, I knew. And then, of course, he began to incriminate himself. The injections. I suppose that he found the police very slow to catch on. Eventually, he might as well have left notes saying that he was a veterinarian.”

  “You never asked him?”

  “Never.”

  “Did you think about turning him in?”

  “He was my husband! And he was trying to atone. Misguidedly. But he was trying to make amends. And my children! How could Olivia and Ian bear it if I turned their father over to the police?”

  “And now?”

  “Olivia is strong. She has my strength. But Ian! He is so sensitive. He always has been. A trial would have been dreadful for Ian. Worse for Ian than for Bruce. We talked about Ian just this morning, about the music he’d be playing at your wedding. Bruce was in an odd mood. He’d decided, I suppose. He cooked himself a big breakfast. Eggs with hot sauce. Sausages. He knew I’d be going out, of course. To groom Uli. I do that every Saturday morning. He waited until I left. And then he E-mailed you. To spare me. I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this. The ugliness! And on the day before your wedding.”

  “Mac trusted me.”

  “It’s strange, but I almost do, too. A woman who’s been betrayed as I’ve been trusts almost no one. But you and I are bonded. Through dogs. We know what love is. And I’m happy that you’ve found Steve. You won’t have a life of lies and betrayal.”

  “The only perfect fidelity I ever expect isn’t from human beings. It’s from—”

  “Your dogs. Of course.” She leaned over to stroke Uli’s head.

  I quoted Senator Vest’s eulogy, which is not, as Judith certainly knew, a eulogy on marriage: “ ‘Faithful and true, even to death.’ ”

>   Then, feeling close to Judith and ashamed to deceive her, I told her that Mac was still alive.

  CHAPTER 40

  “I’ve had a life of unconditional love,” I said to Judith. “I know what it is to be loved by someone who’d never betray me and who cannot lie. Whenever I’ve thought that I’d never again know absolute trust and absolute fidelity, life has surprised me by sending that grace in some new and unexpected form.”

  “Sammy,” she said. “Because Rowdy can’t live forever.”

  Now and throughout the conversation that followed, Judith always kept at least one hand on Uli. Although it would have been easier for the old dog to sleep at her feet than it was for him to sit at her side, he made the effort to keep his head where she could touch it effortlessly. Sometimes he leaned his body against her for support. Sometimes he shifted position to rest the weight of his great head on her lap.

  “And Kimi,” I said. “Their love for me isn’t identical. Their styles are different. Rowdy is lighthearted. He can turn serious if the need arises, but Kimi is a deeply serious soul. And I love them for who they are.”

  “No dog of mine has ever wanted other women,” Judith said.

  “No dog of mine, either.” It somehow felt right to rest my hand, too, on Uli head’s, near Judith’s hand. “Judith, I cannot begin to imagine your pain. I don’t know whether you know that Steve was married before. Recently. And briefly. But he was. I’d refused to marry him. So he married someone else. Precipitously. On the rebound. Stupidly. But he did it. And she was more horrible than I can begin to say. She cheated on him. Almost worse, for Steve, she was vicious to his dogs. He has a pitiful little pointer, Lady, who was brought to him for euthanasia. Steve rescued her. He kept her. And that monster kicked Lady. I saw her do it. To this day, I can barely make myself say that woman’s name aloud. For all that she and Steve are divorced, for all that he is marrying me, I hate her with all my heart. I would truly like to strangle her.”

  “But you love Steve. Peculiar, isn’t it? That that’s humanly possible?”

  “It is peculiar,” I agreed. “But I do love Steve. I love him in spite of... I love him in spite of Anita.”

  “With dogs,” said Judith, “there’s never that spite, is there?”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Are you sure? But I’m diverting you with word games. It’s a bad habit of mine.”

  “Mine, too,” I said. “Word games and dog talk.”

  “Distraction from agony. The fascination of true love. There’s nothing wrong with either one, Holly."

  I slid my hand slowly and tenderly across Uli’s soft, clean coat until my palm rested on Judith’s hand. “Judith,” I said, almost whispering, “Mac wouldn’t have taken that acepromazine. He might have injected it. He wouldn’t have swallowed it. Steve and I have been together for years. We were together before... before Anita. We’ve been together since then. Judith, veterinarians know everything about euthanasia. They know how to end life. Mac wouldn’t have had to bludgeon those women. He’d been all too close to all of them. He wouldn’t have bludgeoned them first.”

  I pressed my hand firmly on Judith’s. Her hand was so cold that it felt bloodless, but Uli’s warmth seemed to radiate around it and up into my fingers. Her eyes were locked on Uli’s; she didn’t raise them even briefly to meet mine.

  "Someone else gave Mac that ace this morning,” I continued. “Someone else rid the world of his women.”

  I waited, but Judith said nothing.

  “There are only three logical possibilities,” I said gently. “Two of them are Ian and Olivia. Judith, I can see how much your children love you. When Steve and I were here for dinner, I watched when Ian helped you with Uli. And I heard the tune he wrote for Uli. He wrote that for you, too. It was about the love you share with this wonderful dog. Ian is an unusual person. He’s almost miraculously gifted. And in other ways, he simply isn’t like everyone else. And I’ve seen your relationship with Olivia. She even married a man who looks like you! You and Olivia are more than mother and daughter. You are almost sisters, too. Dear friends. I have a relationship like that with my cousin Leah. Leah is as close as I have to a daughter. I’d do anything for Leah. She’d do anything for me. So I have to ask myself, if your children knew how Mac has betrayed you, just what would they do for you?”

  “Olivia adores her father,” Judith said. “You had the opportunity to hear Claire on the subject. Loudly and intrusively. As usual. The others at least knew what they were. But Claire was deluded. She threw herself at Bruce. She actually imagined that Bruce was going to leave me for her and become a doting second father to her son! She made a fool of herself. Bruce always understood the distinction between his wife and his whores. It was a distinction that was lost upon Daniels slut of a wife. Daniel is a sweet man. He deserved better. He put up with her endless jibes at him and her boundless narcissism. You know, Holly, she and her family were here many times. I cooked for them. I made them feel welcome. When I could have ridiculed her coarseness and her ignorance, I didn’t do it. And in return...!”

  “Someone exacted revenge.”

  Even now, Judith couldn’t let go of her rage. “The hypocrisy! She knocked herself out to put on a show of friendship. Not that she was alone in her hypocrisy. Just look through these folders. They’re a study in hypocrisy. Irony, if you will. Saint Bonny, who devoted her professional life to healing trauma and her personal life to causing it. Elspeth Jantzen, the red freak, with her stolen book about kindness to animals! And her personal devotion to cruelty. Every one of them!”

  “Someone got even. Did Olivia do that for you, Judith? Did Ian? I admire Ian. I like him. But he is very devoted to you, and he is not like other people.”

  Suddenly brushing off my hand, Judith finally looked directly at me. “In this sham of a marriage, I have managed to hold to a few truths—my children, my writing, and dogs. Dogs! I have only one, and for someone like you or me, that’s a dangerous state. And exactly what did Bruce do in response to the pitifully little that he knew was mine? My children were his children, too, so they were off limits. But just before your launch party, no time ago, it seems, he went after me yet again because my poor little books didn’t sell, because I wasn’t ambitious and didn’t promote my work, because I was still not earning my keep, because I was nothing but a parasite! And do you know exactly what he threatened?”

  “Uli,” I said. “From the moment I read that E-mail this morning, I knew that this had something to do with Uli.”

  “It had everything to do with Uli. Bruce said that unless I started earning money, Uli would be my last dog. He said that when Uli died, that would be it. No more dogs. Ever.” Judith’s composure deserted her. Her thin face was contorted with grief. Her tears fell on Uli. “Uli is old! I’m all that’s keeping him alive! How much longer can I keep him going? I cannot live without a dog! I cannot! Uli would love a puppy! Uli would teach a puppy his special ways, his little quirks! He would pass himself along through a puppy! When Bruce made that threat, my heart broke. Those vicious women had had my husband, and now I was going to lose the strength that kept me going!”

  Softly, I said, “You must have thought about a divorce.”

  “And explain it to my children? Never! And what would I have done for a living? Writing is all I know how to do. I could teach writing, but teaching would pay nothing, and it would leave me no time for my own work. In essence, Bruce threatened to kill me! He killed me over and over with his women and his lies, and then he threatened to take my life’s blood away. I was on the verge of death.”

  “I can see that.”

  “And then a solution presented itself. You were there when it happened. At your launch party at The Wordsmythe, I learned that that filthy piece of trailer trash had died a natural death.”

  Reluctantly, I said, “Nina Kerkel.”

  Judith’s eyes lit up. “Dead! I was overjoyed! The nonexistence of that conniving little slut was utter bliss. It was better than
that! It was repeatable bliss.”

  “These files,” I said. "These dossiers.”

  “Bruce can barely manage to send and receive E-mail. The World Wide Web is a truly marvelous resource, isn’t it? Aerial photographs! Plot plans. And people continue to imagine that privacy still exists. It’s an illusion. Like human fidelity. Human commitment. Human loyalty. Without dogs, there’d be no reality at all.”

  When Uli rose, I thought for a second that he was responding to the word dog. Then I heard the deep tones of Steve’s voice. “Holly?” he called out.

  “Here! In the kitchen.” I felt frozen in place.

  Steve entered and, with him, Mac, who looked pale and old.

  “Mac refused to be admitted,” Steve said.

  Ignoring me, Mac said, “Judith, it’s over. You and I need a few minutes alone together.”

  Judith merely nodded. Mac walked to her and held out his hand. She took it. He seemed to lift her to her feet. Then he rested an arm across her shoulders. Together, they made their way out of the kitchen. Uli, of course, followed them. It should, I suppose, have seemed strange to me that in their own house, they’d been the ones to leave when they could so easily have asked us to step outside. It simply didn’t occur to me, mainly because I felt so relieved to be free of the intense contact with Judith and so comforted to be with Steve. Although I heard soft sounds from the staircase, I didn’t wonder or even care where Mac, Judith, and Uli were going.

  I stood up and melted into Steve, who said, “Holly, I love you so much. I can’t begin to tell you how much I love you.”

  “I love to you, too. I have never loved you more than I do right now.”

 

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