Read The Good Wife Online

Authors: Jane Porter

Tags: #Fiction, #Contemporary Women

The Good Wife (6 page)

BOOK: The Good Wife
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“Just playing,” he said, smiling angelically.

“That’s not playing, that’s dangerous. Don’t do it again,” she said, wagging her finger in his face. “Hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now go play nicely, you’ve only got fifteen minutes left and then we’re heading home to make dinner.” Sarah watched as Brennan chased after Gabi, who no longer wanted to play with her cousin and was telling him so in no uncertain terms.

“They’re fine,” Meg said.

Sarah turned to look at Meg, who was sitting bathed in late-afternoon light. “Are you?” she asked softly.

“What?” Meg asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“I’m worried about you, Meg.”

“You don’t need to be. I’m a tough girl.”

“That’s not the same thing as happy.”

“Happy is overrated.”

Sarah studied Meg’s tense expression, trying to work up the courage to ask her the question that had been burning inside of her since their conversation in the dining room. “Did Chad make you happy?”

“Oh, Sarah, why?”

Sarah dropped onto the bench next to Meg and faced her. “Because I want to know. I want to understand. Were you happy when you were with him?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I’ve closed a door on all that. What happened was so hurtful, I’m better off not remembering.”

“But if you loved Jack, what was Chad?”

Meg groaned and looked away, focusing on Tessa and Ella, who were now swinging together in one swing with Ella on Tessa’s lap. “A diversion,” she said flatly.

Sarah glanced around to be sure there were no little bodies around and that they wouldn’t be overheard. “Didn’t you love him?”

“Not the way I love Jack.”

“But you . . . you slept with Chad for weeks. Had this torrid affair with him. And you’re telling me it meant nothing?”

Meg turned her head, met Sarah’s gaze. “I won’t say it meant nothing, but it certainly wasn’t love and marriage and a baby carriage.”

“Why?”

“I just never saw myself with him. Not long term. And I tried, but I couldn’t picture him with the kids, going to their events, or living in our house, or me living in his.”

“So what was he? Just a fling? Sex?”

Meg grimaced. “I guess.”

“You guess?”

Meg looked back to Tessa and Ella, who were swinging high now, and Ella was laughing uncontrollably. Meg’s lips curved, her expression softening. “They’re so sweet together,” she said softly. She continued to watch them another few moments before glancing at Sarah. “Affairs aren’t what you think they are. At least, my . . . relationship . . . with Chad wasn’t what I thought it’d be. When it started, I felt so many emotions. I felt so much. I . . . loved feeling so much. When you’ve been with someone for a long time, you forget what those other emotions feel like, and then all of a sudden they’re back, and intense, and they, uh . . .” Her voice drifted away.

Sarah stared at her sister’s profile, holding her breath, waiting to hear the rest, because it was important. She needed to hear this, understand this. Because maybe if she understood how affairs happened, and why they happened, maybe she could prevent one from happening again. Maybe she could figure out how to keep Boone faithful, and keep her marriage safe. “They what?” she prompted.

“Seduce you.” Meg made a soft, bruised sound of pain laced with regret. “Destroy you.”

“But you’re not destroyed. You’re strong. Remember?”

“That’s right. I’m tough.” Meg smiled faintly, and yet the expression in her eyes was one of defeat. “I’m Mary Margaret Brennan. I can do anything.”

“That’s right.”

Meg’s eyes watered. “But if I could take it all back, and undo the damage, I would. In a heartbeat.”

* * *

J
ack grilled steaks on the patio for dinner, and even though the temperature dropped the moment the sun set, they still ate outside at the wrought-iron table, bundled up in sweatshirts and sweaters, Meg’s rustic yet expensive lanterns flickering, casting yellow and orange light across the table.

“Our first meal of the spring al fresco,” Jack said, lifting his wineglass. “To spring. And family.”

“And family,” Sarah and Meg chorused, lifting their wineglasses while the kids toasted with their water glasses.

“And to Grandma,” Gabi said, lifting her glass again. “We will always love you.”

“To Grandma,” the children echoed.

“That’s right,” Sarah murmured, grateful that her niece had remembered Mom.

Brennan shuddered. “Just hope the maggots aren’t eating her,” he said.

Sarah’s eyes bugged out, but before she could say a word, Gabi slugged him in the arm.

“Oh my God, Brennan!” Gabi cried, slugging him a second time. “How can you say that?”

“So gross!” Tessa said.

“What are maggots?” Ella asked, glancing from her brother to Tessa, and then to her mother.

“Nothing,” JJ muttered, disgusted.

“Worms,” Gabi answered precisely.

Ella’s face crumpled. “Worms are eating Grandma?”

“No,” Sarah answered even as she shot Brennan a you-will-soon-die look.

“Well, they will,” he answered, unconcerned.

Tears filled Ella’s eyes. “I thought Grandma was in heaven with angels and the saints and Mary—”

“She is,” Meg said quickly. “And Grandma loves heaven.”

Ella looked at her brother. “Then why did Brennan say Grandma is being eaten by worms?”

“Because Brennan is a boy, and boys like to say gross things,” Tessa said, leaning over to hug Ella. “So don’t listen to him. He just wants attention.”

“Really?” Ella asked hopefully.

“Really,” Tessa said firmly.

And with that, Tessa restored harmony to the dinner table.

After the meal ended, JJ and Tessa did the dishes, and Jack, Meg, and Sarah went to the family room to talk. Jack and Meg sat on the couch next to each other, and Sarah took the chair across from them.

Jack was in a good mood, just as he’d been after his run, and he talked animatedly about a new exhibit opening in D.C. at the Smithsonian Museum, and how he’d heard that later in the year, right around Thanksgiving time, that there’d be an even more impressive exhibit focusing on the Civil War and American art.

“Works by Winslow Homer, Frederic Church, Sanford Gifford, and Eastman Johnson will all be part of the exhibit,” Jack said. “I’m really looking forward to the show, as it’s a period in history I find particularly fascinating.”

“It does sound like a wonderful exhibit,” Meg agreed, smiling. “Maybe we can take the kids back to D.C. for Thanksgiving, see the exhibit, and visit some of the historic sites together.”

“Maybe,” Jack said.

Meg’s smile faded. “You don’t think we should?”

Jack shifted on the couch. “I said maybe.”

“But maybe isn’t yes—”

“You’re right. It’s not.”

“So why can’t we take the kids?”

Jack sighed and rubbed his forehead, as if he suddenly had a massive headache. “Because I don’t want to commit to something that far in advance.”

“Why not?”

Sarah exhaled, feeling uncomfortable, wishing she wasn’t here, witnessing a marriage unraveling. But Jack and Meg continued on, as if Sarah wasn’t present.

“You know why,” Jack said grimly.

Meg leaned toward him, equally fierce. “Can’t you give us a year,
please
?”

But Meg’s “please” wasn’t sweet or conciliatory. It was angry and sharp, colored with a bitterness that made Sarah wince.

Sarah sank lower in her seat, trying to decide if she should leave or stay, wondering if it’d help, or make things worse, to leave, wondering if she could help things by staying.

“It’s almost been a year and it’s just gotten worse,” Jack retorted.

“It hasn’t been a year, it’s been nine months—”

“Which is a hell of a long time when you’re miserable.”

“Jesus, Jack!” Meg glanced around, expression wild. “That’s cruel.”

“What do you expect me to say? You just push and push. It’s all you do. It’s all you know how to do—”

“I’m trying to save us.”

He was off the couch, staring down at Meg. “And I keep telling you there is no us. Not anymore.”

“Jack.”

“No.”

“Meg, yes.” Jack glanced at Sarah, his gaze narrowed, his expression tortured. “Sarah, help me.”

Sarah pressed her hand to her mouth, unable to speak, feeling as if she was about to be sick.

His eyes met hers, held, his brown depths pleading. “Make her understand,” he added. “I’m finished. Done. I want out. I want to get away.”

And then he was walking out and Meg covered her face with her hands and cried.

JJ stepped into the living room a few moments later, his face pale, his jaw hard. “Mom?” he said uncertainly.

But Meg’s back was bowed. She kept her face hidden.

“Mom, he didn’t mean it,” JJ said, moving toward her slowly, cautiously. “He’s just in a bad mood because he’s flying out tonight.”

When Meg didn’t answer, JJ looked at Sarah and mouthed the word
help
.

Sarah joined Meg on the couch and wrapped an arm around her. “People fight,” she whispered, picking her words with care, wanting to calm Meg, soothe her. “People say things they don’t mean when they’re angry.”

“He means it, though,” Meg choked from behind her hands. “He’s done. Done with me.”

JJ swore and ran out of the room to race up the stairs. Suddenly voices were raised upstairs, JJ shouting at his father, cursing him out, and then Jack was shouting back.

Meg lifted her head, her face wet, eyes wide. “Oh no. JJ can’t. No.” Before she could move, more feet sounded on the staircase and then Tessa’s high voice could be heard, crying, “Stop it. Stop it, both of you, right now!”

There was another shout that had Meg flying to the stairs. She was halfway up the staircase when Jack came storming down with his suitcase, briefcase, and heavy traveling coat. “This is bullshit,” he said, facing Meg on the stairs. “I don’t want to be here. There’s no reason for me to be here.”

“You have children here,” Meg said hoarsely.

“You’ve turned them against me.”

“I haven’t.”

“My son doesn’t respect me. My daughter is screaming at me—”

“They were just trying to help,” Meg said, reaching out to him.

He backed away so he couldn’t be touched. “I hold you responsible, Margaret. You did this.”

“No.”

“You’ve robbed me of my family—”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true.”

“Jack, your family is here. You’re the one leaving.”

“My work is in Virginia.”

“But your family is in Santa Rosa.”

“Daddy!”
It was Tessa at the top of the stairs, leaning over the railing. “Daddy, please don’t leave. Please don’t go mad at us.”

“I’m not mad, Tessa,” he said, glancing up at her and, seeing her troubled face, he softened his voice. “And I’m not upset with you. Okay?”

“But you’re upset with Mom, aren’t you?”

“This is between your mom and me,” he said, before swearing under his breath. He looked into Meg’s eyes. “This is just what I didn’t want,” he said quietly. “This is just what we didn’t need.”

Then he was gone, his old Saab roaring out of the garage and down the driveway, tires squealing as he took the last corner fast.

Within seconds of Jack’s departure, Ella appeared at Sarah’s side and grabbed hold of her leg, wanting reassurance. Brennan slunk into the hall moments later and nervously asked why Uncle Jack left in such a bad mood.

Meg’s kids were even more emotional and Meg just looked lost. Baffled. Sarah’s heart went out to her.

“Should we see if there’s a show on TV?” she suggested brightly, patting Ella’s head and smiling at the others. “Or a movie we could all watch together?”

“Don’t want to watch TV,” Brennan said. “I’m bored.”

“A puzzle?” Sarah suggested.

Brennan and the girls shook their heads.

“How about we make cookies?” Meg asked, pulling herself together. “We could do roll sugar cookies and then decorate them. I have sprinkles and icing.”

The kids agreed enthusiastically, with the four younger ones trailing after Meg into the kitchen while JJ skulked away, heading upstairs to his room.

Sarah followed JJ, knocking on his open door. “Hey,” she said, when he turned around. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, sure, Aunt Sarah.” He pushed his jacket to the foot of his bed and moved his mitt to his desk.

“You don’t have to clean up,” she said as he made a halfhearted effort to tidy the top of his desk. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.” He straightened, arms folding across his chest. “Just sorry you had to hear all that. My dad can be such a dick.”

“I think he’s stressed.”

“He’s not the only one. We’re all stressed. Grandma’s dead and Mom’s working almost full-time, even though they’re just paying her for part-time.”

“How do you know that?”

“’Cause they fight about money nonstop.”

Sarah frowned. “Is money a problem?”

JJ shrugged. “I don’t know. Hard to say. Dad says we spend too much, but I think money wouldn’t be so tight if Dad didn’t have a house and a car in Virginia.”

“He has a house?”

“Just bought one. Says he’ll use it for his office, too, but he’ll still need electricity and water, which is just more bills, you know?”

Sarah tried to hide her shock. Meg must know about the new house in Virginia, but she hadn’t mentioned it. Sarah couldn’t imagine that her sister was happy about it either. Her curiosity got the best of her. “Is your mom okay with him buying the house?” she asked, delicately probing.

“Mom’s afraid to fight with him. Doesn’t want Dad leaving.”

Wow. Sarah sucked in air, shocked again. If JJ was aware of all of this, did Tessa and Gabi know, too? “There’s a lot going on here,” she said. “Can’t be fun.”

“No. It’s pretty shitty—” He broke off, winced. “Sorry about the language. But I’m kind of over it. Ready to go. Get away. Hoping I’ll get a good scholarship so Mom won’t have to worry so much. Or work so much.” Suddenly his eyes were bright and he looked away. “I will feel bad, leaving her, though. Who knows, maybe I’ll stick close to home for college. Maybe Cal or Stanford might want me.”

BOOK: The Good Wife
12.22Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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