Some Women (22 page)

No one answered. Mackenzie knocked softly. Still no answer. Judiciously, she turned the knob, allowing the door to release and swing open on its own.

“Oh, my God!” Lucy jumped up from where she was seated on top of Piper's desk. More specifically, on top of Piper's red folder. The one Mackenzie had been sent to retrieve for her. And her lip-lock companion released his embrace from behind her.

“I'm so sorry! So, so sorry.” Mackenzie covered her eyes with her hand. She wanted to run, to pretend she was, in fact, one of those doomed women being hunted down by a movie mass murderer, but her feet were pinned to the floor. Because she'd already seen too much. She'd seen the ring on his finger. The ring she'd placed there.

“Mackenzie . . . This . . . It . . . isn't what it looks like,” Trevor stammered. Only it was too late for any recovery. The damage had been done.

“I should go.” Lucy gathered her things in a hurry.

“No.” Mackenzie held up her hand. Her voice was unnervingly even. “Clearly I've interrupted your little rendezvous. I'm the one who needs to leave.”

“Mackenzie, wait!” Trevor beckoned, as she started to walk away.

But he most definitely did not follow her.

It was one thing to suspect your husband was having an affair. And quite another to find out he actually was. Even Annabel had been surprised by her own reaction: out-and-out shock. Until this point it had been largely innocent in her mind. A dinner here. A dinner there. A chaste peck on the cheek, perhaps near the lips, but never a kiss on another woman's mouth.
Never
on the lips. Because that moment, when she'd pressed her mouth to his, had been the turning point in her husband's affair. The moment when the invisible line she'd drawn in her mind had been categorically crossed. And no matter what happened after that, Henry could never cross back.

It was hard to declare that he'd done something wrong, despite the outrage she felt. After all, they were already legally separated and the divorce would be finalized within weeks. Regardless, it felt like a betrayal of the worst kind. Maybe because she hadn't yet
come to terms with the fact that her marriage was really over. That the ten years they'd devoted to building a life together no longer mattered to him. The
decade
they'd spent supporting each other's careers, then having babies and ultimately moving into their dream home—all of that would eventually become a faded memory.

Would she look back on that chapter in her life with fondness? She'd heard some women manage it:
My ex and I are the best of friends now! Hard to believe we were ever married!
Or would the open wound in her heart always sting—like someone was grinding salt into it over and over again? So many divorced women she knew had told her that the former would be the case. That for the next few months, her feelings toward Henry would vacillate between hostility and loathing, but that one day she'd wake up and the pain would be dulled. Not gone, but filed down like a jagged nail. And with each passing day, month, and year, it would only get better.
She
would only get better—at distancing herself from a past she'd once been so desperate to hold on to.

Maybe she would meet someone new and eventually get married again. All in due course. Obviously, it hadn't taken Henry long to find a replacement for her. Though she imagined it was different for men. They typically didn't require the same adjustment period that women did. Beyond the basic fear of someone else seeing her naked, there was a requisite comfort factor that couldn't be denied, even when she was fully dressed. Annabel, at least for her part, needed to get to know someone before she opened up to him. She needed to be wooed, courted, and cared for. Was that really so much to ask?

And where would she find this person? Online? In a bar? It seemed preposterous to think about getting all gussied up with the intent of attracting a new mate. What would she say? What would
she wear? Surely she wouldn't be interested in any guy who was her age and had yet to find a wife. That was a glaring red flag if she'd ever seen one. But, then, did she want to take on more children to care for? Harper and Hudson were already two times a handful. She couldn't deal with a
Brady Bunch
scenario. Not even half a bunch. It was one thing to expect her to love someone else, but their kids too? It felt impossible, like an affront.

Annabel checked her watch. It was already seven o'clock. Henry was supposed to have dropped the kids off with her by six. Normally, something like this would have aggravated her beyond reason. There was nothing she detested more than a blatant disregard for punctuality. The funny thing was, she just didn't care so much about it anymore. Of course she'd missed the boys terribly over the weekend, but she was getting used to it. She was adapting to her new normal, however that looked. The numbness had officially set in. More than that, she'd finally given up on trying to shape Henry into the man she wanted him to be. Lillian could take on that responsibility now—and good luck to her. It probably all seemed like fun and games at this point. The clandestine dinners. The passionate kisses.
The sex?
She hadn't let her thoughts travel down that particular path. Yet. What she didn't know, she didn't want to know. That was that.

Just as she was about to pour herself a second glass of Chardonnay, the front door burst open.

“Mooooooooom!” Harper called out first.

“Mooooooooom! Are you home?” And then Hudson.

They both raced into the kitchen, where she was perched on a barstool at the center island. She stood up immediately, overjoyed to be on the receiving end of their boisterous hugs.

“Hello, my delicious boys.” She squeezed them back, coming down to her knees to dot their warm button noses with kisses. “I missed you so much.”

“We missed you too, Mommy.” Harper smiled sweetly.

“Guess where Dad took us?” Hudson was breathless. “You'll never guess!”

“The aquarium?” she offered, well aware that Henry thought the aquarium was tedious.

“Nope!” Hudson wore a satisfied expression.

“The museum?”

“Wrong again!”

“I have no idea. Why don't you tell me? I'm so curious.”

“To New York City!”

“No way.” She'd intended to feign surprise, but she truly hadn't expected to hear that. Henry barely liked driving them twenty minutes from home, much less hauling them and all of their stuff into Manhattan.

“Yup! We went to FAO Schwarz! And there was this big clock that played music. It was huge. Like, up to the sky!”

“That sounds amazing!”

“It was,” Harper confirmed. “Dad bought us each a Transformer.”

“Well, aren't you the luckiest boys in town?” They nodded together.

“Can we go upstairs and play with our iPads?” Harper flaunted his most convincing puppy-dog eyes. “Please, Mommy?”

“Okay, go on.” They scurried off in a hurry, before she could change her mind, leaving her alone with Henry.

“Thanks for dropping them off.” Annabel stood up again as Henry placed two brown bags on the counter.

“I brought Chinese for us; the kids already ate pizza. I got your favorite lemon chicken and steamed broccoli.”

“Thanks, but I already had a bowl of cereal.” She'd finally stopped dieting. As it turned out, finding out that your husband was, in fact, cheating on you was all the appetite suppressant a girl needed.

“Oh.” He looked disappointed.
What? Lillian doesn't like her food drenched in MSG?
“Mind if I stay and eat?”

“It's up to you.” She shrugged, busying herself with a stack of dishes and a collection of silverware that had been piling up in the sink. Another discovery she'd made since going through a divorce and finding out her husband was cheating on her was that suddenly the everyday, menial tasks didn't seem at all important. So what if she had to eat on paper plates for the foreseeable future because loading proper ones into the dishwasher just felt like too much effort? There was no one there to appreciate it anymore. Not that Henry had ever appreciated her manic obsession with everything in the house staying clean and organized.

“Okay.” He sat down on a barstool and began lifting take-out cartons from the bags. “Are you sure? There's a lot of food here.”

“I'm sure.” She turned toward him briefly and then back to face the sink.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yup, fine. Why?”

“I don't know. You seem quiet.”

“I think I'm just tired.” It was the truth. Ever since she'd learned
that Henry and Lillian had made out in the parking lot at Templeton's, she hadn't been able to sleep soundly for more than a few hours at a clip.

“I hear you. I feel like I've been a zombie for weeks.”

“Being a single parent, even part-time, will do that to you.” She placed the last fork in the dishwasher and, for lack of another distraction, took a seat next to Henry at the counter.

“It's actually not that.”

“Oh?”
Sorry—must be all the raucous sex you're having with your new girlfriend.

“You know this big deal I've been working on for months?”

“Yeah.” Annabel wasn't aware of the details, but she did know that the outcome could be either a coup or a disaster for Henry's company.

“I think it's in serious jeopardy.” He exhaled loudly, hunching his shoulders.

“I'm really sorry to hear that.” And she was. Despite her anger toward him, she didn't really wish Henry any ill will. Not to mention the fact that she and the kids were counting on his steady income.

“You have no idea. I mean, I've sunk hundreds of hours into this. Millions of dollars. I'm not sure the company will survive if it goes south.”

“That doesn't sound good at all.”

“You're not kidding.” He sighed. “Do you remember that woman Lillian Duffy I hired a few years ago to consult for me?”

“I think so.” Annabel's leg started trembling, and she pressed her palm against her thigh to stop the involuntary motion. How dared her name pass his lips in this house? The lips he'd used to suck face with that tramp.

“Well, I hired her again and . . .” He hesitated.

“And what?”

“Let's just say things aren't going as I'd planned. I thought she was my ace in the hole.”

“That's a shame.”
Aw, poor Lillian not performing outside the bedroom? Bummer.

“I honestly don't know what to do.”

“What does Don say?” Don was Henry's second in command. The one person he trusted with everything, whereas Annabel used to be that person for him.

“I haven't had the heart to tell him. You're the only one I've spoken to about it.”

“I'm flattered. I think.”

“Annie?”

“Yeah.” She turned toward him.

“I'm scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of losing everything.” Their eyes locked at his admission.

“So am I.”

•   •   •

Annabel had slept soundly for the first time in days. Her boys were back home where they belonged. She'd sat side by side with Henry without the urge to strangle him. And it felt nice, once again, to eat like a normal person without counting every calorie and each gram of fat. So when Mackenzie's call came in at seven in the morning, Annabel was already awake and alert, flipping through a copy of
Good Housekeeping
while she waited for Harper and Hudson to bound through her bedroom door and hurl themselves onto her bed.

“I'm so sorry to call this early,” Mackenzie apologized even before saying hello. Annabel could tell immediately that something was wrong. Her voice sounded different, strained, reminding Annabel of when Mackenzie had lost her baby.

“It's fine. I was already up. What's the matter?”

“He's cheating.”

“I know. We've already been down this road. Honestly, I've come to terms with it. Okay, so maybe not completely, but I'm working on it. I'm channeling your advice.
Namaste
.”

“Not Henry. Trevor.” Mackenzie sniffed before releasing a sob. “With Lucy!”

“What!?” Annabel sat up straight. “Hold on. This doesn't make any sense.”

“You're telling me!”

“How do you know?” Annabel placed her magazine on the nightstand. This was the last piece of news she'd expected to receive. Trevor Mead stepping out on his stunning and kind wife with Piper's office assistant. It was absurd. Almost laughable.

“I caught them in the act!” Mackenzie screeched into the phone.

“When? Where?”

“The night you found out about Henry. The night we were all at the hospital for Fern. I went to the office to pick up that work for Piper. And there they were, making out on Piper's desk. On her desk! I'm such a fool.”

“Listen to me. You are not a fool. And you shouldn't be alone right now either. I'm going to see if I can get my babysitter here. If you don't hear from me, I'll be there in an hour.” She hesitated. “Where's Trevor now?”

“I have no idea. I texted him to say that he is unwelcome at
home. He's been trying to get in touch to talk about things. But what is there to talk about, right? I mean, what the fuck is there to talk about with him?”

“Hang tight. I'm jumping in the shower. I'll be there soon.”

“Thank you, Annabel,” she whispered. “I'm just not myself.”

•   •   •

Forty-five minutes later, Annabel and Mackenzie were curled up on her couch under a blanket-sized pale green cashmere throw. Mackenzie's face was pallid and her typically silky blond hair appeared tangled, even a little greasy.

“Okay, start from the beginning. Tell me exactly what happened,” Annabel coached. It was strangely ironic to be on the opposite side of a conversation they'd had so many times over the past few months. First Henry. Now Trevor. Were all men really dogs, desperate to gnaw on a fresh cut of meat as soon as the opportunity presented itself?

“So, I drove to the office, and when I got there, I noticed the door was unlocked. It
never
occurred to me that Trevor would be there. He was supposed to be at a dinner for work.” She inhaled and then exhaled, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment while she tried to keep the tears at bay. “What an asshole. Anyway, I was creeping around the place like a serial killer was going to jump out at me if I looked in the wrong direction. Ridiculous, I know.” Her shoulders quivered.

“It's okay. Just tell me slowly.” Annabel placed her hand on Mackenzie's for support and encouragement.

“Right. So, I noticed that Trevor's office light was on, but when I went in, the room was empty. Piper's office light was also on. And do you know what I thought?”

“What?”

“I thought it was funny, because Piper can be so absentminded sometimes. I figured she'd forgotten to switch it off.”

“That makes sense.” Annabel smiled kindly. “I probably would have thought the same thing.”