His Other Wife

by Deborah Bradford

  Pam and Eric hadn’t asked for ideas and Hilary had no clue what they might be giving her son. She couldn’t help but be a little skeptical of their motives, as they called everyone over and made a big production.

  Then Eric dangled a set of keys and placed them in Seth’s hand. That was when Hilary’s heart felt like it was being squeezed inside a trash compactor.

  “Here are the keys to your graduation present.”

  “Dad?” Seth’s voice was weak. His confused gaze traveled from the keys in his palm to his father’s face.

  “Go ahead.” Eric cuffed his son solidly on the shoulder. “Go get it. It’s in the parking lot.”

  Seth didn’t move. “But what is it?”

  “That black Ford F-one-fifty over there.” Eric cuffed Seth’s shoulder again to fill in the awkwardness. “Not brand-new, of course, but it’s in great shape. Congratulations, Son. Pam and I are proud of you. We want you to enjoy this truck.”

  Hilary hadn’t even been breathing. How could they have done this without even asking her opinion? She felt like she’d been sucker punched.

  “It’s mine?” Seth glanced in Hilary’s direction. She rearranged her face but not fast enough. She’d turned away, but she’d seen Seth catch her displeasure. Which irritated her even more. It wasn’t fair for Seth to get trapped in the middle of this. And that, she suddenly suspected, was the reason Pam must have encouraged Eric to do it this way, so Hilary couldn’t fight back.

  Seth’s friends had erupted. “Totally chron!”

  “Amazing!”

  “Emily, get over here and see this.”

  “I call shotgun.”

  “Word!”

  “Emhurst is a long way off,” Eric said. “And Springfield’s a big place. You’ll be needing something to get around.”

  “But it’s too much, Dad.”

  “It isn’t too much,” Eric argued. “After all, I’m your father.”

  Looking dumbfounded, Seth headed toward the parking lot. “It’s locked,” Pam called after him, the pride evident in her voice. “Punch the button on the key chain and the taillights flash.” Pam touched Eric’s sleeve. “Honey, go with him. Show him what he needs to do to get it started.”

  Hilary felt like she’d been trapped. “Your dad has a little money to go along with it,” Pam added. “We thought you could use a little help getting settled into your new place.”

  The school grounds were still packed with high-school graduates and their families. Pam and Hilary stood a distance apart from each other, their arms crossed, their eyes locked on the hoopla in the parking lot. “He’ll have to apply for a parking permit on campus, of course,” Pam said.

  Exhaustion swept over Hilary. She didn’t want to be bitter anymore. She longed to close off her heart and just feel nothing. But Seth was the only thing she had left of her family. She had only a few precious weeks left with him. A new truck? Offers of money? What were they doing, trying to buy her son from her? “Why didn’t you and Eric talk to me about this? How could you do this without discussing it with me?”

  “It didn’t seem like anything we needed to discuss.”

  “It isn’t? It’s a new truck, for heaven’s sake.”

  “It isn’t new,” Pam reminded Hilary. Pam’s voice sounded as if Hilary were committing some major offense by questioning her.

  “You know what I mean,” Hilary said as the fever rose in her voice. “That isn’t the point.”

  “It’s just a graduation gift.”

  “No, Pam. It’s a little more than that. You should have warned me.”

  “Can’t you just relax and enjoy the moment?” Pam asked.

  Hilary had no practice at this. She was stepping into uncharted territory. Pam might as well be saying, Can’t you see that I’m better at this than you? “I’m sorry if we’ve put you on the spot,” Pam murmured in an undertone, as if she were confiding something Hilary couldn’t have known, something Hilary would rather other people didn’t hear. “We knew you couldn’t afford to do anything like this. Seth needed something dependable.”

  Dependable. The thought pounced on her like a cougar. She didn’t see it coming in time to push it away. Like the father he would have had if you hadn’t stolen him.

  Seth had climbed into the front seat of his new truck, his fingers gripping the steering wheel. Hilary saw Remy cupping his hands against the glass, trying to look in through the tinted window on the other side. Seth’s friends were drooling all over themselves!

  The dashboard sloped around Seth like the instrument panel on some sci-fi starship. As Hilary and Pam talked, Hilary saw him marveling over his gift, fingering the gearshift knob, feeling it smooth and commanding beneath his hand. One press of the clutch, one flick of the key, and her son would be rolling forward. As they talked, the engine roared to life and then shut off again. The lights switched on and off; the windshield wipers arced across the glass. As Hilary watched her son’s profile through the glare on the windshield, she expected him to be memorizing the intricacies of his new dashboard. Only he wasn’t.

  Hilary watched her son get out of the truck, slam the door, and check to make sure it was locked before he left it. Emily followed him, creases of worry between her brows. Hilary realized what Seth was going to do, and she was heartsick. Seth. Don’t. Not for my sake. But it was too late. Seth shoved the keys toward his dad.

  “Dad,” he said. “This means a lot. But I don’t want it.” There were so many things he could have said; Hilary knew it. He could have given so many excuses. He could have said he didn’t want to worry about parking on campus. He could have said that he didn’t feel right taking it or, It looks like a gas guzzler and I can’t afford to pay for the insurance and neither can Mom. Or he could have said he couldn’t afford the registration. But Seth didn’t bother. “Maybe this isn’t the best idea.”

  “What’s this?” Eric asked. “You don’t want the truck?”

  “You should have talked to Mom,” Seth said. “You shouldn’t have done this without her.”

  A muscle bulged in Eric’s jaw. His mouth tightened in quiet anger.

  Ben, who was too young to understand the friction among everyone, appeared at Seth’s side, the basketball tucked against his hip. “Do we have to leave yet? Can’t we shoot some more?”

  “Come on, kid.” Seth held out both hands, splayed as if he already held the ball in the tips of his fingers. “Let’s do it.”

  “Yeah!” Ben grabbed Seth’s hand.

  After the boys headed toward the blacktop, Eric turned to Hilary, furious. “This is your fault. Seth knows you disapprove. He turned me down to satisfy you.”

  “He made his own choice,” Hilary said in her own defense, her voice weak. But deep down she knew that wasn’t true. She’d gone for years thinking she’d healed, that she’d moved forward, that she’d mastered her grief. Then here came Eric surprising everyone with a truck and Hilary felt like he’d found a deep wound in her, something that made her wince with pain. “You and Pam can’t just spend money on him and expect everything to be all right between you.”

  Later, when Hilary was alone, she would examine this moment, draw the hurt out of her pocket the way she would draw out an apple, and she would examine it. She would pray, What is this, Lord? Why did this one episode make me react this way? Why do I feel like Eric and Pam poked a sore spot? She would wait then, listening for some answer. Maybe she’d robbed them of a lovely moment between father and son. For now, she could only salvage what little respect she and Eric had between them. “He turned a truck down, Eric, not you.”

  Pam stood with her feet apart and her arms crossed over her chest like a general ready to reprimand an army. “We’re trying our best to be a healthy blended family for him.” Pam’s mouth had thinned to a grim line; her spine stood straight as the trunk of a box elder. “Everything we try to do for him, you undermine us.”

  “We’ll talk this through,” Hilary said, finding her composure. “It’s fair for you to g
ive him a good vehicle, something practical he can use while he’s away. It was also fair for us to discuss this first.”

  Pam joined her husband. She kneaded the muscles in his shoulders as if preparing him for a knockout in the twenty-first round. “I’ll tell you what isn’t fair, Hilary. It isn’t fair for you to turn your son against his own father.”

  “If you had talked to me first it would have been different,” Hilary stated, her voice steady in spite of Pam’s charge. What an absurd accusation! “Seth wouldn’t have seen my shock. I wouldn’t have stolen his joy at your gift.” Then, “I’m doing the best that I can, Pam. You have to realize that.”

  But Eric’s wife wouldn’t be convinced. Pam shook her head with her chin raised in censure, disapproval oozing from every pore.

  Chapter 7

  As she prepared for the family meal, Hilary aligned plates along the table with military precision, plink, plink, plink. She set silverware alongside each napkin with the same attention as she would have laid out sterile surgical instruments. The growl of the ice maker spitting ice into glasses suited her mood. She balanced a head of lettuce on the board beside the sink and severed it in one slice. Anything to keep her mind off Pam’s finger-pointing. Anything to keep from taking offense at the woman who had come into Hilary’s life and seemed intent on disgracing her.

  The sun, still bright in the kitchen, was giving Hilary a headache. George and Ruth came through the door, George carrying a Tupperware carrier with a three-layer chocolate cake. “Oh, that cake looks wonderful,” Alva said. “Ruth. You’ve outdone yourself. That’ll go great with my homemade ice cream.”

  Alva had been working on the ice cream ever since they’d left the school grounds after graduation. To Ruth, she listed the entire roster of ingredients she’d used, starting with the eggs and not stopping until she reached the vanilla. Hilary knew that was how her mother dealt with stress. When Alva felt people were tense around her, she talked a mile a minute to fill in the spaces. And as Hilary loaded food on the table, there were plenty of spaces. The air in the room felt as explosive as lightning.

  “Mom. Come sit down.” Hilary set a pitcher of ice water beside Alva’s chair. She stood on tiptoe as if that would make her voice louder. “Seth? Where’s Seth? Are the boys outside? We’re ready to eat.”

  Looking grim, Eric escorted Pam to the table, his hand touching the small of Pam’s back. Lily came out of the bathroom with wet hands. “Honey. Use the towel,” Pam said.

  George spoke a brief prayer and they unfolded their napkins, smoothed them in their laps. Serving dishes passed, chicken and wait-a-day salad and bean casserole, as the silence swelled. Alva babbled on about a neighbor who had thought she’d let her dog inside only to turn around and find that she’d opened her door and let in a stray goat. At the end, realizing that no one was going to pick up the conversational slack, Alva let the story fizzle.

  After that there was nothing but the sound of silverware against the plates. Hilary glanced around the table and just happened to catch the look passing between Pam and Eric. Eric began by clearing his throat. “Son,” he said. “We’d hoped you could clear your schedule for us. We’d like to spend a little more time with you tonight.”

  Hilary’s breath caught in her throat. She almost blurted it out: Oh, he’s not doing that. He’s got big plans. But she bit back the words. That was the worst thing she could do right now, make it sound like she was trying to interfere.

  Seth looked her way for help. Hilary shook her head. You’re on your own with this one. There wasn’t anything she could do.

  “Dad. I’ve got —”

  “We were thinking we might ride the L downtown. Show the kids where you and I used to fly kites by the lakeshore. Have a walk and see the sights.” Then, after a slight hesitation, “Hilary, Alva, we want you to come with us, too.” Although it was obvious they didn’t really.

  “We’re eating,” Hilary said, trying to warn Eric off. “Can we discuss this after?”

  “Well,” he said. “Pam and I thought we might talk about it now. While we’re all together.”

  Pam said, “He’s a part of our family, too, Hilary.”

  If the atmosphere had been unsettled at the table before, now it became downright stony. Seth said, “I’ve got plans tonight, Dad. I can’t come with you.”

  “Can’t we just all eat?” Alva pleaded. “We have this lovely meal. We ought to enjoy it. And for the dessert there’s the ice cream, the chocolate cake. You should see the chocolate cake your mother baked, Eric, three layers. I’ll bet she made those cakes for your birthday parties.”

  Ruth jumped in: “He asked for one every year.”

  “Eric,” Hilary said. “You mustn’t take this personally. Pam, it’s not that he doesn’t want to spend time with you.”

  Eric went straight for his son: “You’re leaving tonight, Seth?”

  Pam narrowed her eyes as if this were unthinkable. “I’ve never seen anyone so possessive of a child.” She skewered Hilary with her gaze.

  The words drove like a fist into Hilary’s throat. “I haven’t done —” But she made herself stop. Oh, how she ached to argue! But what good would it do? I’d only make it worse, Lord. Hilary refused to add fuel to the fire. She refused to let Pam bring her down to this level!

  “I’d planned to be home for this family meal,” Seth said. “But after that I’ll head out.”

  Eric frowned. “You’ll head out?”

  “You know what they say,” Seth joked, something Hilary knew he’d always done when he was trying to lighten the mood between everybody. “You know. Make like a baby.”

  “What?”

  “Make like a baby and head out. You know. Make like a tree and leave.” Eric was still glaring at Seth, so he clarified. “I’m not spending the night at home, Dad. It’s graduation night. A bunch of us are going camping.”

  On the road trip they’d taken to Yellowstone once, they’d piled out of the car at McDonald’s and not until they’d consumed their share of Big Macs and given themselves brain freeze passing around one enormous chocolate shake did they realize they’d locked the keys in the car. Eric had gotten a clothes hanger from the restaurant and had whittled away at the door’s rubber stripping while Hilary had blamed him for their delay and Seth had danced around the car bumper telling every knock-knock joke he could muster. Knock knock. Who’s there? Dwayne. Dwayne who? Dwayne the bathtub; I’m dwowning.

  Hilary had gotten so frustrated at all those jokes that she’d almost given Seth a time-out because he wouldn’t be quiet. Only later did she figure out that he’d been working as hard as any stage comedian to make them laugh. He’d been trying to make them feel better.

  Eric set his water glass on the table. “Your mother gave you permission to go on an overnight camping trip the night after graduation? You have no idea what could happen at a teen party like that.”

  “Things won’t get out of hand, Dad. I already promised Mom.”

  Ben had been stirring his beans in figure eights. It amazed Hilary that Pamela hadn’t corrected him. The little boy stopped now, gazed at Seth like he had just been told Christmas had been canceled. Ben said, “You won’t come with us?”

  Seth spoke slowly, trying to make everyone understand. Maybe he could say no to his father, but Hilary knew that Seth’s heart must feel knotted, refusing that little boy. “This is my class. The friends I’ve had since I was Ben’s age. We may never see each other again after tonight. This is our graduation day.”

  Ben stared at his plate. Lily, such a girl, climbed down from her chair and went to pat her brother on the shoulder.

  Hilary’s heart suddenly felt as protective of her child as it had when he’d been six and dancing around saying things like: Why does the teddy bear cracker wear long trousers? Because he’s got crummy legs. She rose to his defense by outlining plans for the night the same way those boys had casually divulged plans to her. She used only the words with a positive connotation. Words like �
�a tradition,” “the seniors do it every year,” “they’re old enough to be responsible.”

  “But it’s camping?” Eric asked Seth. “Without any chaperones? Your mother really gave you permission to do this?” And Hilary was thinking, after the truck incident, that she shouldn’t be surprised that suddenly Eric and Pam were blaming her.

  “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, Dad,” Seth said, squaring his shoulders. And Hilary knew he could have said more, too: If you’d wanted to spend time with me, you could have done it when I was thirteen.

  “Well, what do you call it?” Pam asked. “We’ve come all this way to see you.” Pam swept Lily into her arms and sat the little girl in her chair. “Stay in your seat, you doodlebug.”

  “Couldn’t we do something tomorrow?” Seth asked, glancing in his mother’s direction for help.

  “A whole group of seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds unsupervised?” Pam made it sound awful, like Hilary was an absolute idiot, like Pam was ticking off items on a list to prove Hilary an unfit mother. “I would never agree to a thing like that.”

  But your oldest is in grade school, Hilary wanted to say. Give yourself time. You’ll see how things change.

  Hilary reached for George’s plate, stacked it on top of her own. She reached for Ruth’s plate, her mother’s, and Eric’s. Others began to stack forks and knives on top. As Hilary headed toward the sink with the wobbling stack of dishes and utensils, Alva rose to help her. Ruth went to dig around to find a cake knife.

  Thank goodness this was almost over! Hilary couldn’t survive much more. She felt suddenly afraid, as Pam made her second-guess herself. Pam’s objections were all the same that Hilary had listed to the boys just days ago. We’ve talked about it, she told herself. They’ve promised they’ll make good choices. They know they need to take care of everybody. But at this point Pam made her feel like such an utter fool, she felt so attacked. Was I wrong? Should I have agreed to it?