The Perfect Wife Page 13

  “No, Jess,” he answered, sounding slightly annoyed. “It’s at another location entirely. I thought a change of pace might be nice.”

  “Sounds lovely,” she replied, “even if I can’t partake of the beverages. Should I dress up?”

  “Sure. Maybe wear that red cocktail dress you look so great in. I’ll be out in a few.”

  Jessie retreated to the closet to look for the dress. It was only as she was sliding hangers to the side that the realization hit her—she’d been snooping. Why else would she skulk up the stairs?

  Was I hoping to catch Kyle in the shower with some bimbo?

  Somehow she’d let Crutchfield’s dig get in her head. But her husband wasn’t cheating. He’d come home early so he could take her out for a fun night. And now she was consumed by guilt. She yanked the dress off the rod angrily, fuming at herself for not seeing how she’d been manipulated by a drawling hick stuck in an enclosed glass cell.

  *

  On the drive to the wine bar, Jessie wondered whether she should come clean with Kyle about the whole situation with Teddy and Mel Carlisle. He still didn’t know she’s told Mel about seeing Teddy with the hostess. Or that Mel had revealed the true nature of Club Deseo. She didn’t love keeping secrets from him.

  Besides, part of her wanted to ask if he was aware of what was really going on there. But she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer. What would it mean if he did know? Was that what he wanted—to have an open marriage? Or did he not care about that stuff and just liked going because of the connections and the golfing?

  By the time they got to the wine bar, she still hadn’t decided, which she interpreted as a sign that she was better off keeping her own counsel for now. This was a discussion to have in the privacy of their home, not as they were pulling up to an event sponsored by the very club she was suspicious of.

  The place was less of a classy wine bar and more of a music-thumping nightclub with a small private room that had a bar in the back corner. This seemed to be a different crowd from the folks Kyle usually hung out with at the club. She recognized faces but didn’t know many names.

  Kyle grabbed a huge glass of Cabernet and introduced her around. Pretty soon, he’d headed off in search of another drink and she was engaged in an agreeable chat with a woman named Gina.

  “Are you guys going to the Bringing the Boats in Party tomorrow night?” she asked.

  “I heard about that when we first moved here,” Jessie said. “But I don’t really know what it is.”

  “It’s an East Coast tradition,” Gina explained. “One last boat-centric hurrah before the weather gets too cold to go out on the water. Of course, in Southern California it never gets too cold to take a boat out so it’s essentially just another excuse for a big bash. You should go. It’s a great chance to see people embarrass themselves, maybe even me. Last year I woke up on a boat in the middle of the night wearing nothing but a life preserver. Still don’t know how that happened.”

  After what had to be a half hour of listening to Gina’s war stories without Kyle anywhere in sight, Jessie excused herself to go look for him. She was unexpectedly, voraciously itching to find some real food. There were only hors d’oeuvres here, all of which made her feel mildly nauseated.

  She searched the main nightclub area and then the bathrooms but he was nowhere to be found. She grabbed a security guard, described her husband, and asked if he’d seen him. He nodded and pointed in the direction of a dark hallway toward the back of the club. She wandered back but only found one door with a “staff only” sign on it.

  Reluctantly, she opened the door and peeked in. It looked like an employee break room, with a couple of vending machines and two circular tables littered with dirty plates. She heard voices from somewhere further back and headed in that direction until she came to a door marked “Manager’s Office. It was slightly ajar.

  Glancing through the opening, she saw a guy who looked vaguely familiar sitting behind a desk. She was pretty sure he was a Club Deseo member. He was giggling uncontrollably at something a person out of view had just said. She recognized the other voice immediately and pushed the door open all the way.

  Standing with his back to her was Kyle. He was leaning over a corner of the manager’s desk and snorting a line of white powder through a rolled up bill. Lying on the table nearby was his ludicrous gold “$” money clip. He did a second line, oblivious to the fact that his buddy, having seen Jessie, had suddenly stopped laughing.

  “That works!” Kyle bellowed as he stood up and exhaled happily.

  He glanced at his buddy and seemed to get that something was off even before turning around. When he did, there was still coke residue around his nostrils and his eyes were glistening in the fluorescent lights.

  “Hey, Jess,” he said, his voice an unsettling mix of giddiness and shame.

  Without a word, she turned and stormed out.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Jessie took a Lyft home. By the time Kyle got there, she had a bag packed for him.

  “This is for the hotel you’ll be staying at tonight,” she said, dropping it at his feet.

  “Jessie, I’m sorry. I made a poor choice. But don’t you think you’re overreacting a little bit?”

  “To what?” she demanded. “My husband abandoning his pregnant wife for half an hour at some strange, cheesy nightclub? Or finding him snorting cocaine in a back room like he’s an extra in a Martin Scorsese movie? There are so many choices.”

  “Look,” Kyle began, “Coy was doing it and he offered me a hit. I was super close to signing him as a client and I thought saying no would scuttle the deal. It was a dumb move, I admit. But it was a one-time thing.”

  “First of all, ‘Coy was doing it’? I don’t even know what to do with that sentence. And also, really? Because you weren’t acting like it was a one-time thing. According to you, that was ‘the stuff!’ I barely recognize you these days, Kyle. Where’s the guy who gets sleepy after two beers? Where’s the guy who said every competitor who gets high just makes it easier for you to swoop in and steal his clients while he’s not paying attention?”

  “I’m right here,” he insisted. “I made one bad choice.”

  “Well, it’s a choice that’s going to have you looking for a place to sleep tonight. Maybe the country club has special rooms for husbands who have been kicked out, not that any wives around here would have the courage to do something like that.”

  “I really think you’re making a mountain out of a mole hill,” he said calmly, though his eyes were still glassy.

  “A mole hill? How am I supposed to trust you after this? What else are you doing behind my back?”

  His face twitched slightly at the accusation and Jessie could tell his guilt had given way to something else. Anger maybe?

  “What else am I doing?” he asked. “How about providing for our family!”

  Jessie realized she’d judged wrong. He wasn’t channeling anger but rather self-righteousness. That only infuriated her more.

  “I’m not sure we have a family anymore,” she replied, her voice steady and icier than she expected. “If this doesn’t change, I’m leaving you.”

  He stared at her in disbelief. For several seconds he didn’t speak. When he finally opened his mouth, she was sure it was to beg forgiveness.

  “No, Jessica, you’re not,” he said, equally cold. “We are a family. This is just a hiccup. Besides, that is my baby you’re carrying. So you won’t be going anywhere.”

  “Is that a threat?” she demanded incredulously.

  “It’s a prediction.”

  “Get out,” she said, pointing to the door. “Call yourself a rideshare and get out now or I’m calling the cops. You’re still high and I don’t think a drug bust will look too great down at the firm. They don’t even approve of unmarried employees. How do you think they’ll feel about a cokehead?”

  He looked like he wanted to say something else but thought better of it. Instead he picked up the bag and lef
t. It was only when she heard the car pull out and speed off down the road that Jessie felt everything give way.

  She slumped to the floor, pressing her back against the wall for support. Heaving sobs wracked her entire body. It was ten minutes before she had the strength to stand again. When she rose, she slowly went to the kitchen table, where she’d tossed her purse, and fished around for the business card Lacey had jokingly given her at lunch the other day. It took a moment but she found it: Craig Plessey, Divorce Attorney.

  She moved into the front room, slumped down on the couch, and dialed the number, which went straight to voicemail. After the beep she spoke, listening to her own disconnected voice as if she were a spirit, watching events from a distant remove.

  “My name is Jessie Hunt. I’d like to make an appointment.”

  Overwhelmed by anguish and exhaustion, she dropped the phone on the coffee table and closed her eyes. She was asleep within seconds.

  *

  The woods were thick and it was brutally cold. Jessie’s small, bare feet, half-numb, were bloody from trampling on rocks and twigs. But she thought she saw a clearing in the distance so she ignored the pain she felt and kept moving. A branch tore at her “Sabrina, the Teenage Witch” nightgown but she didn’t stop.

  Finally there was a break in the trees. She started to sprint. Only at the last moment did she realize that the open space before her was actually the edge of a cliff. She pulled up hard, digging her toes into the dirt and teetering dangerously over the edge. She managed to halt her momentum and drop to the ground.

  She clutched at the frost-covered weeds at the rim of the precipice and looked over. At least fifty feet below was a raging river with churning white rapids. The rumble of the water smashing into the ravine walls sounded like thunder. But even over that, she could hear another sound. Behind her were his heavy footsteps, moving steadily but unhurried, crunching the twigs under his boots.

  She didn’t look back. Instead she stood up, her toes poking out into nothingness, trying to muster the strength to jump. And every second, the boots behind her got closer.

  *

  She woke up in a pool of sweat. It wasn’t yet light out, but Jessie, breathing heavily and worried her heart might beat out of her chest, got off the couch and went upstairs to shower. After that, she went back down for some decaf coffee and whatever food she could manage to keep down.

  It was hard to find something to take her mind off recent events. She couldn’t concentrate enough to study or even read a book. She didn’t feel up to going through the remaining unopened packing boxes. She turned on the television and flipped around.

  But even mindless TV didn’t do the trick. Food shows made her sick to her stomach. Home renovation programs only reminded her of her own depressing home life. Even her “go-to” fantasy series, Supernatural, was showing an episode involving a demon invading people’s dreams. That hit way too close to home. So she spent most of the morning watching reruns of The Office.

  When she heard the knock on the door, she glanced at the clock and saw that she’d somehow zoned out for close to two hours. She muted the TV and walked to the front door. Peeking through the dining room curtains, she saw that it was Kimberly Miner, who was carrying a box. Despite every fiber of her being shouting not to, Jessie opened the door.

  “Hi,” Kimberly said. “I brought you a peace offering.”

  She held out her arms to reveal that she was holding a box of doughnuts from the same place Jessie had gotten hers all those months ago. She looked from the box back to Kimberly’s face to find an unexpected expression there: sympathy.

  “Hi,” she said, taking the box. “Thank you. Do you want to come in?”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to take my daughter to a swimming lesson. But I just wanted to give you these and say I’m sorry things got so… sideways between us.”

  “I’m sorry too,” Jessie said, still confused. “I should have minded my own business.”

  “It’s hard, when you want to do the right thing, when you want to help someone you don’t know that well but you’re not sure how.”

  “It is,” Jessie agreed, not sure what else to say.

  There was a long, awkward pause. Kimberly finally broke it.

  “Will I see you tonight at the Bringing the Boats in Party? It’s always a pretty good time.”

  “Oh jeez,” Jessie said, her heart sinking. “I completely forgot about that. I’m not sure what’s going to happen with it.”

  “Okay, well if you do go and you’re looking for a friendly face, find me, okay?”

  “Sure,” Jessie promised. “Thanks, Kimberly.”

  Her neighbor reached out and gave her arm a friendly squeeze. Then she turned and headed back across the street. Jessie took the box of doughnuts into the kitchen and dropped them on the counter. Only then did she notice that the kitchen window, one that faced the Miners’ house, was open, just like it had been last night when she kicked Kyle out.

  Her stomach did a little, anxious somersault. How much of their fight last night had Kimberly heard? Clearly enough to feel she had to bring over compassion doughnuts. Suddenly Jessie knew what it felt like to have the secret doors of her private life pried open. She felt ill.

  *

  Jessie sat in the waiting room several hours later, trying to catch her breath without looking too frazzled to the women around her.

  In addition to the Bringing the Boats in Party, she’d also forgotten about her first OB-GYN appointment. When her phone reminder went off an hour before she was supposed to be there, she had to scramble to throw on decent clothes and get out the door.

  Traffic was bad and she was running late. But when she called to tell them, the receptionist said not to worry as they were backed up too. Still, she didn’t arrive at the Beverly Hills office until fifteen minutes after her scheduled time.

  When she was finally called back for her first ultrasound nearly a half hour later, she calmed down enough that she didn’t fear having her blood pressure taken. The nurse ran through her history, took her pressure (117/76—yay!) and temperature and asked an endless series of questions.

  Finally she had Jessie lie back so she could apply the gel for the ultrasound. She settled in and took deep breaths. Within moments, she heard the rat-a-tat drumbeat of a tiny heart. She looked over anxiously at the nurse.

  “Sounds healthy,” the woman said without even looking over. She must have been used to Jessie’s reaction.

  She moved the transducer around for several more minutes, doing a variety of calculations. Eventually she turned off the machine and wiped the goop off Jessie’s skin.

  “Can you tell the gender of the baby?” Jessie asked, both excited and apprehensive.

  “Not yet, at least not using the ultrasound. We’ll probably be able to tell between sixteen and twenty weeks. And you’re only at about nine. There is a blood test you can take if you’re really dying to know. Are you interested?”

  Jessie nodded enthusiastically. She knew some people liked the mystery of it all but not her. She was a woman who liked getting answers. And if there was a way to get this one, she was going to use it.

  “Oh,” the nurse said as she reviewed Jessie’s chart. “I realized I missed a section on your paperwork. Is there a spouse or significant other we should mark down with contact information for emergencies?”

  Jessie looked at her and started to answer, then closed her mouth. She glanced away as tears welled up in her eyes. She realized she didn’t truly know the answer to the question. Had her life partner just temporarily lost his way? Was he a cokehead now? Or worse? The possibility depressed her. But more than that, it scared her. She’d never felt more alone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Jessie was startled out of her afternoon nap by the sound of the garage door opening. She rolled over and glanced at the clock—3:45 p.m. That was way too early for Kyle to get home, even if he thought he was welcome. Nervous, she pulled on some sweatpants and a T-shirt and sta
rted down the stairs. She was tempted to grab the baseball bat from the closet but told herself not to jump to conclusions.

  As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard the familiar sound of Kyle dropping his keys in the basket by the garage door. A wave of resentment overtook her and she stomped in that direction.

  He’s just going to show up like everything’s normal after last night?

  When she rounded the corner, she saw her husband on his knees on the kitchen floor. She stopped in her tracks, dumbfounded.

  “What the…” she began.

  “Jessie,” he said, his voice quieter than she was used to, “please hear me out.”

  Something about his tone stopped her from ripping into him. She nodded and he continued.

  “I’m sorry…for everything. I did go to a hotel last night where I got almost no sleep. Not because of anything wrong with the place but because of something wrong with me. I just lay in bed all night staring up at the ceiling, thinking about how I got in this situation. And I realized—I didn’t just get in this situation. I put myself in it.”

  He shifted his weight and winced slightly. His knees were probably killing him on the stone kitchen floor. Jessie was tempted to tell him to get up but she didn’t want to interrupt. And truthfully, she kind of liked seeing him uncomfortable.

  “I couldn’t concentrate all day,” he continued. “My boss actually reamed me out at one point because I was so out of it. But all I kept thinking about was all the ways I’ve messed things up. I pushed you to move here, even though you loved living downtown. I insisted on joining Club Deseo because of the contacts I could make. I’ve been such a workaholic that I jumped at every golf outing on the outside chance that it might land me a client. I’ve been so focused on moving up that I didn’t give enough thought to how you were adjusting.”

  “Get up,” Jessie said, after he grimaced a second time. As he pulled himself upright, she added, “I know your work is important to you, Kyle. That’s not the issue.”