The Glass Wives (21 page)

“I don’t have the energy to scream at you. I’m not your mother. Oh, yes, you must have made your mother so proud!” That was mean. Beth’s mother had died years before.

“Stop it.”

Evie stepped backward away from Beth and ended pinned against her own counter with nowhere to go. Beth walked to the other side. The counter had always served as a gathering place. Now it was a gulf between them.

Beth reached across toward Evie, who laid her hands on her thighs.

“Does Laney know?” Evie sniggered. “There is no way Laney knows.”

“No one knows.” Beth spoke slowly, deliberately.

She faded right in front of Evie’s eyes. “You’re full of it, Beth. How can no one know? Alan was married and had an affair.
With you.
His wife knew, and how about his family and his friends? Oh my God, does he have other kids? Is Cody
yours
or did you steal someone’s husband
and
child?”

“Cody is nineteen, and Alan and I have been married over twenty years. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re a slut and I’m ridiculous. We’re quite a pair.”

Beth’s face drained from springtime peach to pale ash, but Evie didn’t care. She’d been duped by someone she loved and trusted. Again. There were secrets. Big secrets. Again.

“I know it sounds cliché, but they weren’t happy. He asked for the divorce because of me, but the marriage wasn’t bad because of me. They got married after college, and this happened within a few years.”

“You didn’t care that he was married, did you?” Evie whispered.

Beth gulped and looked down. “It just happened.”

Evie guffawed.

“I know its cliché, but it’s true. We were friends and then…”

“And then you were naked. That’s a logical progression for this cliché of yours.”

“It was so long ago, it was a different lifetime. It doesn’t matter how it happened. Alan was married for four years, and a year later he was married to me. In a synagogue, by a rabbi. You’ve seen the photos a million times.”

“I don’t get it. How could you not have cared that he was married?” Evie said, her throat stretching, almost cramping. “How could you not have ever told me with everything you knew? We were best friends. I told you everything.”

“I did care, Ev. But I loved him. And I didn’t tell you because I love you too. And I was scared you would hate me.”

“God, no wonder you were always so understanding of Richard. And now Nicole. It all makes sense. It’s like a little club. Do you have a secret handshake? A password?” Evie handed Beth her coat. “You see yourself in Nicole, don’t you? It’s why you make excuses for her, why you whisper to her, why you want her to have coffee with us.”

“I feel bad for her. I know that just because she did something hurtful doesn’t mean she’s a bad person.”

“In case you missed it, I didn’t say she was a bad person. I asked her to move in here. I’m the one eating dinner with her every night. I’m the one who acknowledged her as part of this convoluted family. Frankly, at this point, I’m fine with Nicole. You seem to be the problem. At least with her I know what I’m getting.”

“I just thought if I told you…”

“What?”

“I don’t know what I thought. I just wanted you to know.”

“It was eating away at you, and now that you got it off your chest, your betrayal can eat away at me. Great, thanks, because I don’t have enough to worry about.”

“I didn’t betray you by having an affair with Alan.”

“No, you betrayed me by lying. By breaking a promise to be straight with me, and to having insight that might help me when I was going through everything.”

Evie slumped in a chair and glowered at the stranger-friend standing in her kitchen. Beth’s aura was tarnished, which made Evie sad when she wasn’t seething. It was never fun to watch someone change before your eyes when you needed her to stay who she was. Who Evie thought she was.

“I can’t defend what we did, but I’m not going to apologize for having a solid twenty-four-year marriage with Alan.”

Evie leaned back. “So, are you going to tell him you told me?”

“Of course.”

“How do you know he hasn’t cheated on you? He did it once … he could do it again.”

“I trust him.”

Evie sneered. “How does he know you haven’t cheated?”

“You know me better than that.”

“Do I?”

“Yes, you do. Circumstances
do
come into play in life. And people can learn and make choices that point them in different directions than in the past. If Alan and I ever had problems, we wouldn’t look to someone else, we’d look to each other.”

Evie looked at the clock on the microwave. “You need to go. Unless you just want to go downstairs and hang out with your protégé.” The words shot out of Evie’s mouth. She was glad to see them go. Better out than in.

“I’m not leaving until you tell me you don’t hate me.”

“I can’t do this.”

“You can’t do what?”

“I can’t have you in my house.”

“I’m so sorry, Evie.” Beth reached for her and Evie recoiled.

“Just go.”

Evie pointed toward the door and Beth winced. She left in silence without putting on her coat, pushing in her chair, or closing the door.

Chapter 15

E
VIE JIGGLED THE STATIC OUT
of her pant leg and surveyed Lakewood County Community College. It was late March. The trees were still bare, but large planters overflowed with pansies and daffodils. Men and women of all ages, sizes, and colors sauntered past, some with backpacks slung over a shoulder and others with briefcases swinging from one hand. There weren’t a lot of low-riding sweats with phrases across the tush, and there weren’t many logo hoodies. Evie sensed no preppy vibe at all, quite the switch from her memories of Northwestern, which consisted of late-eighties big hair, stand-up collars, and shoulder pads.

County geared its courses to adult students, most of whom worked full-time. These students would be mature and motivated, and thankfully, they were not slaves to college fashion trends, no matter the decade. They’d enroll to start a degree or learn something new or finish what they’d started when life got in the way, and not because their starched and pressed parents packed the car, set them up with a laundry service, and dropped them off with a credit card. Not that any of those things had happened to Evie. The students at County were here to change direction or find one. Evie could relate. Maybe she’d suggest that Nicole go back to school. Or maybe Beth had already suggested that during one of their secret meetings. Evie pushed Beth out of her head the way she’d pushed the flowers Beth had left on the doorstep to the bottom of the kitchen trash can, the same way she’d banished her from the kitchen four days ago—with force, and a modicum of regret.

“Think about yourself,” Evie said aloud. She rubbed her lips together. The hint of gloss felt dry, almost chapped. She headed toward the entrance and imagined discussing Abraham Lincoln and the emancipation during a cross-campus walk. She imagined herself advising a student during office hours, and providing valued input in faculty meetings. Above all, Evie imagined the self she wanted others to see, and that was not a divorced mom, a retired dater, or someone who lived with her ex-husband’s widow. To the naked County College eye, she would be nothing more—or less—than normal.

Sam had been in school for over a week. Sophie no longer appeared at Evie’s door in the middle of the night. Nicole had stopped trying to re-reorganize the cabinets. And now Evie was interviewing for a job she wanted. A job that could offer her a new identity and a chance to move forward.

Hopefulness felt sweet and familiar.

*   *   *

“Good morning, I’m Olivia Talbot.” The chair of the History Department was a dark-skinned African-American woman with little, yet impeccable, makeup. She was tall, even in flat shoes, wearing slim, black trousers and a long, white tunic. She wore large gold hoop earrings that swung when she moved her head, which she did not do often.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Have a seat, let’s get down to business.” Dr. Talbot sat and drew a multicolored scarf over one shoulder, creating a look of academic elegance. She glanced at a legal pad on her desk. “You haven’t taught at the college level before, but your credentials are excellent. Northwestern and U of C.” It was as though Evie were eavesdropping as Dr. Talbot talked to herself. “I understand taking time off to raise a family.”

Evie nodded but said nothing. She wasn’t giving anyone ammunition.

“I did the same thing years ago, started back part-time as well, and eventually earned my Ph.D. at DePaul. About fifteen years ago, I came here.”

Maybe she was older than Evie thought. She couldn’t imagine getting a Ph.D. while the kids were at home.

Dr. Talbot motioned to the window, which overlooked a green expanse. Outside that window it looked like a college: picnic benches and trees in a big square outlined by buildings. “County is very academic, Mrs. Glass. For a community college. Do you go by Mrs. or Ms?”

“Ms.”

Dr. Talbot picked up her pen and made a note on the top page. Being a Ms. was a good thing to Evie. Was it a good thing to Olivia Talbot?

“As I was saying, though this is a serious institution of higher learning, you’ll find County more laid-back than what you’re used to academically.” She glanced down at her paper again.

What Evie was used to academically were fifth-grade dioramas and Pokémon pencil toppers.

“It sounds like there’s a good balance.” Evie hoped it would rub off.

“That’s true. As you know, we need someone to teach Early American History two nights a week for the summer session. Would that be manageable for you if we offered you the position?”

“It would be.” Nicole’s face appeared before Evie’s eyes. “Absolutely.”

“I’m glad to hear that. After the summer the position is still part-time, but the class is during the day, not at night.” Dr. Talbot looked at her computer screen, her watch, and at Evie. “Now then, I have a division meeting to attend, so I asked one of our more senior professors to give you a tour and answer any questions you may have. Sandy teaches European History as well as History Ed Theory. I’m sure you’ll get along.”

Was this a second opinion, or was Evie being pawned off to a department peon? The brush-off would be easier if it was quick.

“We’ve worked together now for almost ten years, and I trust Sandy’s opinion,” Dr. Talbot continued. “The class you’re being considered for will be in the lecture hall Sandy uses during the day. You’d share office space as well.”

“I understand.” Professor Sandy had tenure. She was probably a displaced academic snob—all prep school and penny loafer, a Brown reject with attitude—the yin to Dr. Talbot’s yang.

Someone tapped on the door and opened it before Dr. Talbot said another word. A man in his fifties grasped the door as if ready to pull it shut again. He had a salt-and-pepper crew cut—more pepper than salt—and wore a pale pink oxford tucked into belted, olive chinos. When Evie had imagined her potential adult students, she’d pictured women. Of course there would be men too. Handsome men.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were finished,” he said.

Evie looked at the doorjamb. Salt and pepper was six feet or six-one. She’d learned how to gauge height during a women’s safety course as an undergrad. She didn’t feel unsafe with the man at the door, more like unsettled.

“Good timing,” Dr. Talbot said, standing. Evie followed. “Ms. Evelyn Glass, this is Dr. Alexander Perlman. Ms. Glass is applying for the summer adjunct position.”

Dr. Perlman extended his right hand to Evie. It dwarfed hers, and heat transferred from his palm. Evie’s acute physical awareness released unanticipated memories. And hormones.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Perlman. Please, call me Evie.” She pulled back both her hands and slid them into her jacket pockets. She was thinking about flirting with a colleague. Better than with a student, but probably not a good idea. If Evie got the job, would she see Dr. Perlman on campus?

He looked at Evie straight on with his bright blue eyes. A brief smile softened his square jaw. He jerked his eyebrows. They were not yet gray. “Please, call me Sandy.”

Evie gulped, then coughed to cover her shock.

After leaving Dr. Talbot’s office, Sandy unfolded a campus map and handed it to Evie. “At first, these halls and atriums and paths all look the same. It’s kind of the same way with the students.”

“Thank you.” Evie tucked the map into her purse. His stride was twice as long as Evie’s, and she scampered to keep up, glad she wore kitten heels and not the three-inch pumps Laney had suggested.

Sandy smiled at her and slowed his pace. “We’ll start here.” He stopped in front of an office with a door that matched every other door she’d so far seen.

He slid a keycard through the slotted black box, and just like in hotel rooms from Evie’s other life, a little light flashed red, then green. Inside, the room was dark and small, with a 1970s teacher’s-style oak desk in one corner. Not old—
vintage.
Sandy flipped the wall switch and the fluorescent ceiling panels flickered. The bookshelves were filled with textbooks. The desk, cluttered with papers and stacks of folders and more books, sat kitty-corner to the metal shelves with the windows to the left. Framed railroad travel posters adorned the walls, along with a couple of framed college degrees with print too small to read. The room smelled like a college professor’s office—a mix of must, antiseptic wipes, and stale coffee.

“We’ll put a desk on the other wall. And add a bookshelf, I guess.” Sandy scrunched his face, as if he’d never considered the ramifications of sharing his office. “It’ll be tight, but, whatever. No budget, no choice.” He thrust his hands into the air. “Sometimes we just have to make things work.”

He has no idea.

Sandy patted the back of a wooden swivel chair. “Have a seat.” It was less of a suggestion, more of a command.

Evie sat. Sandy leaned on the desk next to her. Now he was two feet taller—effective for negotiating—she’d remember that.