“If you aren’t going to marry Lisa, then what?” Carol asked.
“I don’t know.”
With her eyes opened, Carol confronted him, daring him to tell her the truth. “This isn’t the first time, is it?”
“First time for what? If you’re asking whether I’ve fathered other kids, you’re wrong. I’ve always been careful, but Lisa said…” He let the rest fade.
“I meant this isn’t the first time you cheated on Ellie.” Technically they were divorced, so it couldn’t really be considered adultery. “That’s the reason she filed for divorce, isn’t it?”
Her brother looked up briefly and nodded.
Rick stayed for an hour, and they talked while dinner went cold. He was still in shock and, frankly, so was she. Rick had always been her idol and in the space of a few minutes he’d tumbled from his pedestal.
She ended up making steak sandwiches and coffee, and Rick left soon afterward for his hotel. He definitely needed sleep, but he and Carol planned to talk again the next day.
Doug returned home an hour later, thrilled that the Mariners had handily defeated the Yankees. Carol told him about the visit from her brother and his devastating news.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” her husband told her. They sat side by side on the sofa, Doug’s arm around her. “Rick’s always been a ladies’ man.”
Carol found it hard to believe her brother could be so morally lacking. It was as if this person she’d grown up with and loved was a stranger. “You knew and didn’t tell me?”
“I couldn’t. You always thought he could do no wrong.”
Carol felt sick to her stomach.
“He’s been doing it ever since I’ve known him. Fooling around with one woman while seeing another.” Doug held her close for several seconds. “The truth is, I’m not overly fond of Rick.”
“Doug! How can you say such a thing?” Rick was the one who’d introduced her to her husband. They’d been college friends and dorm mates. But now that she thought about it, Carol realized Doug had never shown as much enthusiasm for seeing Rick as she did.
“It’s true, honey. The only good thing that came out of the friendship was meeting you. I’ve never liked his ethics.”
Carol let his words sink in. She was seeing her brother realistically for the very first time. He was a selfish little boy who refused to grow up. She wondered how many people had recognized it before her.
Later, as Carol snuggled close to her husband in bed, she couldn’t help thinking about life’s many injustices.
“Why is it,” she asked in a whisper, “that women who don’t want to get pregnant have such an easy time of it?”
She felt her husband’s slight nod of agreement. “I wish I had an answer, sweetheart, but life just isn’t fair.”
“No kidding,” she muttered for the second time that night.
CHAPTER 25
ALIX TOWNSEND
A lix slept late on Friday morning, lying in bed while the last remnants of sleep faded away. She was warm and comfortable and unwilling to move. Keeping her eyes closed, she let her mind linger on the kiss she’d shared with Jordan. Never in all her life had she realized a kiss could be so good.
She’d been kissed plenty, and had lots of other experience, too. Still, no kiss had affected her like that one. The men she knew tended to be rough and sweaty and urgent in their need to dominate. She’d never known such sweet pleasure from a simple kiss. But then, she reminded herself, this could all be tied up with a childhood dream that had been shattered one night in the sixth grade.
Even now, more than a week later, she remembered every nuance of his kiss. His hands had framed her face and his eyes had locked with hers. She’d seen his look of surprise—and uncertainty. They’d parted soon afterward, and it almost seemed to her that they needed to get away from each other in order to assimilate what had happened.
Alix hadn’t seen Jordan since, hadn’t talked to him, either. She tried not to dwell on that. Unsure what prompted her, on Sunday morning Alix had walked over to the Free Methodist church Jordan had mentioned. She stood across the street and chain-smoked three cigarettes while she watched people file in.
Jordan was right about one thing: only a few of the older adults wore hats and gloves and dresses. Various families came with youngsters in tow, all carrying Bibles. Alix had only ever owned one Bible and that had been so long ago, she didn’t know where it had gone. Staring at the churchgoers, she saw that most people wore casual clothes, but that wasn’t a strong enough incentive to send her inside.
She’d loitered on the corner, hoping, she guessed, that Jordan would notice her. He obviously hadn’t; she didn’t see him either.
The music was good, upbeat and lively—not what she remembered at all. Alix had heard church music as a kid and it had sounded like something out of the Middle Ages, but it wasn’t that way now. Once she’d even caught herself humming along and quickly stopped.
After about forty minutes, she’d walked away, hands buried deep in her pockets. It wouldn’t have hurt to slip into the back pew and take a look, but fear made that impossible. Analyzing her actions now, nearly a week later, Alix wasn’t sure what she’d been so afraid of. The possibility of someone talking to her, perhaps.
Rather than brood on last week’s disappointment, Alix tossed back the sheets and climbed slowly out of bed. Laurel was sitting in front of the television, an old model with a faded picture tube and tinfoil-wrapped rabbit ears. Her roommate stared intently at a kids’ cartoon.
“Morning,” Alix muttered as she wandered into their tiny kitchen.
Laurel ignored her.