The Comfort of Lies (26 page)

They walked silently down the hall to Juliette’s office. She gestured for Tia to enter and then followed. She indicated the chair across from her desk. Juliette had no plans to share the couch or sit kitty-corner-intimate in the two cushioned chairs angled by the window. No, she’d give Tia the glossy oak chair reserved for problem employees.

“What can I do for you?” Juliette set her face in a corpse-like mask.

“I think there’s a different question,” Tia said. “What is it you think I can do for you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Juliette’s father-in-law drummed this into her: in business, make the opponent name the price first. This was the business of her marriage.

“Oh, come on.” Tia’s nervous laugh made Juliette want to throw her bowl of paper clips right at the young woman’s head. “I’m certain you know what I mean.”

Heat steamed from Juliette’s brain straight to her twitching fingers. She picked up her coffee cup and pretended to take a sip from the empty mug. “Actually, I don’t.”

“Honor,” Tia said. “My daughter. What’s your interest in her? Why did you send Nathan to talk to me?”

“Send Nathan?”

“You know he came to see me, right?”

Juliette prayed the mug handle wouldn’t crack in her grip. “Of course,” she lied. “But what made you think I sent him?”

“ ‘Juliette wants to see her.’ That’s what Nathan said, that you wanted to see my daughter. Why?”

That bastard. He hadn’t even told her he’d spoken to Tia, much less that he’d gone to see her. Why keep it secret?

Juliette could only imagine.

“Actually, I don’t owe you an explanation for anything,” Juliette said. “I have no idea why you came here or what you expected.”

“I want you to stay away from my daughter.” Tia folded her hands in her lap as though she were in school.

“I want you to stay away from my husband.”

“I’m not planning anything with Nathan.” Tia grasped the arms of the chair, looking like she was about to leap out. “I came here to tell you that there are no rights for you with my daughter. None of this is your business. Neither of you.
Leave her alone.
”

“You gave her away.”

“I found good parents for her,” Tia said. “Great parents. I think about her every day. Nathan never did one thing for her. He didn’t even acknowledge her.”

Juliette closed her eyes, praying Tia would disappear.

“Did you think you could just go around meeting my daughter without even telling me? Leave her alone.”

Juliette opened her eyes. “Your daughter? Do you know her favorite food, what her bedtime book is? Do you know what color she likes?”

Tia bit her lip, looking like she was about to cry. “You think you know me, don’t you?”

Juliette didn’t want to feel Tia’s sadness creeping toward her. “She’s Nathan’s daughter. That connects me to her.”

“Please, leave her alone.”

Tia looked so frightened. Juliette worked to remain invulnerable to her. This was the woman who’d ruined her life. “I can’t promise you that.”

Tia stood to leave. She walked away, but when she got to the door, her hand on the knob, she turned back to Juliette. “He kissed me, you know. Nathan kissed me. Why do you think he did that?”

 • • • 

Juliette called Nathan the moment Tia left. Seconds later, their fight began, mainly a one-sided battle. While Juliette ranted, Nathan muttered “Uh-huh” into the phone, supposedly because he was walking on campus and afraid someone would hear him. Juliette believed that excuse as much as she believed anything else he’d said.

“Honest to God, Jules, I was doing this for us. For our protection.”

“We can’t have secrets. Don’t you think I know that? But I needed to find out the facts.”

“I planned to tell you. I honestly did.”

When Juliette got home, Nathan was there, but, of course, so were the boys.

They had dinner. Afterward, Nathan opened the mail and paid bills. Juliette answered emails and cleaned the kitchen. Then the two of them kissed the boys good night. Finally, they were alone in the family room, Nathan in the club chair, Juliette on the couch. Juliette put down the magazine she held as a prop and turned to Nathan. He held the remote in his hand, ready to switch on the television.

“You kissed her.” The TV remained off. “I can’t believe you kissed her.”

“Kiss? It was a chaste peck on the cheek, Jules.” He leaned over and touched her hand. “It meant nothing. It was just a hello.”

Juliette pulled away. “How could you not tell me you visited?”

“I didn’t go to her house; we met at a coffee shop.”

“Where?”

“What difference does that make?”

“What difference does it make to tell me? Why can’t you just answer me instead of repeating my questions?”

“Quincy, we met in Quincy.”

“Because you didn’t want to be seen?”

“Honey. Keep your voice down—do you want the boys to hear us?”

Juliette grabbed a pillow and held it over her stomach, squeezing it so hard she felt the stems of the feathers that filled the downy cushion.

“You’re an idiot,” she whispered. “Quincy? It’s the opposite of convenient.”

Nathan remained silent. He looked sick.

“Was Quincy one of your old stomping grounds?”

He put down the remote. “Sweetheart, you told me we should see Honor.”

“Savannah. That’s her name.” Juliette worked on not screaming, not crying. “I said we should see the child, not that woman.”

“Was I supposed to march over to Dover and demand to see the girl? I’ve never had any contact with them.”

“You didn’t give the child up,
she
did.”

“Actually, I did.” Nathan looked miserable in a way that twisted Juliette’s heart into frayed rope. “By walking away from Tia without a word, I walked away from the baby.”

Juliette clenched her eyes shut against hearing him say the name. She kept her head bowed so Nathan couldn’t see her face.

“I asked her to get rid of it,” Nathan said.

Savannah’s face—so like Max’s—rose like an apparition.

“I asked her to have an abortion,” Nathan added, as though his words hadn’t been clear enough.

It didn’t seem possible to keep two such disparate thoughts in her head: horror at the idea of that little girl having been snuffed away, and a hopeless, retroactive wish that the abortion had happened.

“I couldn’t go to see the child, however you thought it might
happen, without telling Tia. It wouldn’t have been fair. You can understand that, can’t you?”

“You can’t even hear yourself, can you? Who do you think I am?” She stood and walked in circles. “I’m not your mother, filled with bottomless love and sympathy.”

“You’re a good woman. I know that. Why else would you have even brought up the idea of seeing Honor?”

“Savannah,” Juliette murmured. “Savannah, Savannah, Savannah.”

“Savannah,” he repeated. “I love you, Jules.”

“Promise me you’ll never see her again.
Never.
”

“How can I do that and also do what you want: see Hon—Savannah?”

“She. Gave. Her. Up.” Juliette said the words one deliberate syllable at a time. “She has no legal rights. The only ones we have to speak with are Savannah’s parents. Her legal and only parents.”

“Wishing something doesn’t make it true. Like it or not, Tia gave birth to her.”

“And then she gave her away. Don’t you get it?”

“Don’t you?” Nathan’s patient tone gave way. “She gave her away because of me, because I abandoned her.”

“Is that what you think? That your fragile girlfriend was forced like Little Nell out into the cold? You tore the child from her arms, did you?”

Juliette went to Nathan, leaned over, and grabbed the arms of his chair. “What do you think I’d have done, if I were pregnant and you said, ‘Give it up’? If you told me, ‘I’ll have nothing to do with you’? Would I have aborted Max? Given Lucas away?”

“That’s so different—you’re comparing totally different circumstances.”

“No, Nathan. There are bottom lines, and this is mine. Nothing—
nothing
—would have made me give up my child.”

Nathan looked up. He shook his head. “It’s different with her.”

“I cannot believe that you’re taking her side.”

“There are no sides. It’s simply a situation,” he said. Nathan the rational. “A horribly sad situation.”

“Apparently it’s a situation in which you can go anywhere, while I’m only allowed access to you. Oh, except when your girlfriend charges into my office.”

“She’s scared. She thinks we’re ganging up on her.”

“Why shouldn’t we?” Juliette clenched her fists. “She slept with a married man. She gave up a baby. I owe her nothing.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t think it’s the same for me,” Nathan said. “It just doesn’t seem fair. I know I was awful. I did a terrible thing to you. But, Jules, I also did a terrible thing to her.”

Nathan stood in front of her, and she saw regret and yearning in his eyes—a wistful sadness for someone who wasn’t Juliette.

CHAPTER 25

Nathan

Nathan stared at his wife, waiting for her, willing her to soften, aware that he was asking for a miracle: a second round of absolution.

“Get out.” Juliette spoke so low Nathan almost missed her words. “I want you out of here. Go.”

“Go?” Nathan pretended not to understand. Jesus, it was all happening too fast for him to figure it out; to take care of everyone’s needs. He felt as though he were a cardboard clown head, popping up and down at a carnival booth, with everyone trying to knock him down.

Juliette bent her head to the side and studied him, her eyes hot with hurt anger. He wished for the millionth time that he could erase everything he’d done wrong.

“Nathan, it’s too goddamned late to play games.”

“I love you, Jules. You know that.”

She stared into his eyes. “You love me, you love me. I know you love me. But that’s not the issue. I don’t know what to think about you. You’re defending her to me, asking my understanding. Do you understand at all what is tearing me apart? Even after all of this, you did it again. You . . . your sin of omission is leaving me out. Once again, I’m the outsider.”

He watched his wife trembling in front of him. Without a word, she walked to the bedroom, Nathan followed right behind. Still silent, she looked around as though an answer lay somewhere in their bedroom, and then she walked over to the door and shut it with a quiet deliberation that told Nathan she’d wanted to slam it so that the roof shook.

“I don’t want the kids to hear.”

He rose and caught up with her as she released the doorknob. “Jules, listen. You’re not the outsider. Oh, Jesus, never. But I need to make things as right as I can with her before we sort this all out.”

Nathan reached for her; he touched her shoulder.

She shook him off. “Don’t.”

“I thought we were in this together.”

“If we were in this together, you wouldn’t have gone there without telling me. You have a relationship with her whether you screw her or not, and you just proved it.” Juliette grabbed a nightgown and opened the door to their bathroom.

“Please, don’t.” He wondered about the intent of his own words. Don’t what? Did he mean “Don’t leave me”? “Don’t walk away”? There seemed to be a million things that Nathan didn’t want her to do. Juliette never changed in the bathroom, always allowing him the quiet sexual simmer of watching her undress—an unspoken pleasure of their marriage.

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I can’t give you any more.”

“Please, Jules. Let’s not get overdramatic. A kiss? God, it wasn’t a real kiss. We’re talking friendship, past connection. She simply gave you her point of view.”

“Don’t tell me about overdramatic. Her? She? Why not name your beloved?” Juliette brought the nightgown closer to her chest. “Tia Adagio. Ms. Mother Teresa of mistresses.”

“Jesus, she’s not my mistress, Juliette.”

“Listen to yourself! So indignant.”

“It was a million years ago.”

“Six. Six years ago.” Juliette balled the nightgown between her hands. “If you were done . . . if you and that girl—that woman—if
you were truly done, you wouldn’t have lied to me about seeing her.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“But you didn’t tell, Nathan.” She began weeping. “
You didn’t tell
.”

He didn’t know what to say. Her rare tears silenced him. She was right. He hadn’t told.

Juliette threw herself on the bed. Tears leaked from her eyes to the bedspread. Nathan lay beside her. He touched her hip, and this time she did not smack him away, so he leaned over her and kissed away her tears.

Nathan loved Juliette. He hated that he’d hurt her.

Her skin was, as always, soft, warm, and welcome under his fingertips. There was never a time he didn’t want his wife. That’s what she didn’t understand. He needed to make Juliette understand that they were two sides of the same coin—connected by their children, their love, and their years together.

He’d seen this woman give birth to their sons.

He kissed her salty lips.

His wife.

He unbuttoned her shirt.

Heat rose, love rose, this woman, he loved her. In the best way. The right way.

He kissed her throat.

She pushed him away. “Don’t touch me. Go sleep in the guest room. Your study. The fucking lawn. I don’t care where, as long as it’s not here.” She drew her knees up close and cradled them in her arms. “I want you out of here tomorrow.”

 • • • 

Nathan cleared his throat as he prepared to wreck his son’s lives. His boys sat across from him in the pink and orange Dunkin’ Donuts booth. He’d pled with Juliette to reconsider.

“
How can we do this to the boys
?” he’d asked Juliette.

“
I didn’t do this to the boys
,” she’d answered. “
You did
.”

“Max, Lucas—I have to go away for a bit.” Nathan had rehearsed
this conversation, trying to find the best words, but in the end, he could do no more than simply get it out and over.

Max’s eyes widened. Lucas tightened his grip on his muffin until it crumbled between his fingers.