His Other Wife (25 page)

Emily was giving them quiet directions: “Take a left up here.” “It’s the second right.” “After you pass this next sign, it’s
three miles to the camping area.” The left-turn signal clicked off after Eric made the turn. He braked as they approached
the sign. Emily was leaning forward, pointing toward the curve in the road. “Once we veer to the right, we ought to be able
to see the bluff.”

The parkway changed course and the scrub brush thickened. Rising above the brushwood was a precipice that resembled a giant
rotund troll crouching over the horizon. The butte was not all crags and sharp outcroppings as Hilary had expected. It was
a gathering of mammoth, once-undetached stones fraught with fissures and crevices, separated by rock faces that had been worn
smooth as baby bottoms by some ancient sea. The closer they got, the higher the ridge towered overhead.

Seth had left his truck at the entrance. Only it wasn’t like he had parked, exactly. The truck had been left in a spot with
its windows rolled down and its tires cocked into the turn, as if Seth had leaped from the seat in a panic, trying to escape
something.

Eric was the first out. “Seth!” He shaded his eyes. His own voice, calling his son’s name, echoed back at him from the far
distance.

“Seth!

“Seth!”

Pam clutched Eric’s forearm. “Do you see him?”

“Where do I even look? How big is that thing? I had no idea.”

Emily stood beside the fence and pointed. She knew the route. “That’s where they started up last time.”

“Seth!” Eric hollered again.

And just like that, Hilary caught herself telling her ex-husband, “Don’t shout. Don’t distract him.” Because she saw a dark
asterisk against the slick rock face and knew it was her son.

He was climbing without any rope or harness. With arms outstretched, he moved sideways and melted into grainy shadow. Seth
had found a break in the cliff, an ungainly scar where he could stand.

Eric rushed to the wall and searched in vain for a handhold. He set his foot into a notch and started to follow Seth. He slid
down after three steps. He jumped the rest of the way to the ground. “How did they do that?”

“Don’t try it,” Hilary said. “You can’t rescue him, Eric. He’s got to do this on his own.”

“I ought to be able to help him,” Eric said. “I’m his father.”

“But you can’t,” Pam said. “Not with this.”

Eric and Hilary held each other’s hands as Seth checked his footing and continued. Once, Seth slipped and Hilary gasped. He
landed in a tangle of roots and brambles, two-thirds of the way up. It seemed forever before he screwed up the courage to
start heading vertical again.

Pam said, “I don’t know how to do anything except compete with people. My sisters and I, we were verbally sparring all the
time. We were always after each other. I never wanted to compete with you, Hilary.”

Hilary couldn’t tell how long they stood there, helpless, as they watched Seth climb again. “It’s hurting Seth,” Hilary said.
“It hurt him when his father left. It’s hurting him because I won’t let go of my bitterness.”

“I know that,” Pam said.

“He
is
a part of your family. He
wants
to be.”

Pam touched Hilary’s arm, was silent.

Hilary didn’t flinch away. “He was angry at Eric for leaving. He was angry for a long time. But he adores your kids. It would
make him happy to be comfortable with you, Pam. But he hasn’t been willing to do it because he’s been protecting me.”

Seth moved hand over hand and searched, often in vain, for footholds. From where she watched, Hilary knew he must be fighting
frustration as his muscles grew weak. He lost his grip again and, this time, Hilary, Eric, Pam, and Emily scurried backward
as loose scree and pebbles bounded toward their heads. Seth didn’t notice. That was when Hilary sensed Seth’s herculean focus.
With grim determination, he moved horizontally across the rock. His every motion had become firm and able. He wasn’t going
to fall.

Each time his hand found a hold, the motion was sure and swift. Each time Seth’s knee angled or his leg swung sideways, he
made his move with elegance. The steep-sided precipice might be Seth’s enemy, but he was clinging to it however he could,
each groping step and each slight swivel of balance another small defeat of the hill.

“I was already pregnant with Lily when Eric left you.” Pam watched Seth, strong and proud, as he conquered the final slope.
“There have been times I think he’s regretted your divorce, Hilary. And my whole life, I’ll have to wonder whether he left
you because he loved me more, or because I was having a baby.”

“You can’t go forward while you’re looking backward,” Hilary said. “You have to trust what the next step will bring.”

Emily, who had been standing separate from them, wrapped her arms around Hilary. Hilary draped an arm around Emily and drew
the girl close.

Pam said, “I’ve tried to do everything I could to feel more sure of myself around you.”

Hilary let out a wry laugh. “Don’t you think it should have been the other way around?”

“Maybe.” Pam shrugged. “But who’s to say how pain manifests itself between two women who have loved the same man?” Pam smiled
at Emily. “You know how to do this so well, Hilary. You have all these special young people in your life. That’s another thing to make me envious.”

Hilary said, “We’re hurting Seth unless we can come to some truce between us. We ought to try to do that.”

Seth reached the top and disappeared from view for three maddening seconds. Briefly he stood beneath the tree that was on
top of the ledge, and then he glanced over and spotted them. Hilary could see his shoulders heaving. He sat down, and he was
satisfied. His feet dangled in empty air.

M
aybe it was fitting that Pam and Hilary found themselves standing beneath the Picasso they both loved, the much-maligned gift
from the master artist. It stood in Daley Plaza, the piece of work that some Chi-Town residents, even all these years after
it had been presented to the city, would never quite comprehend.

Hilary felt Pam’s eyes on her. Hilary crossed her arms and trained her gaze on the metal statue. “I lost Seth in a swimming
pool once. He almost drowned. He was scared to go down the waterslide. I told him I would hold him in my lap and he would
be safe. He thought I would drop him, but I told him I’d hang on for dear life, that there was no way he would get away from
me.”

Pam met Hilary’s gaze.

“I promised him I wouldn’t let go. I told him that, as long as he was with me, he’d be okay. But we hit that current at the
bottom and he flew out of my arms. All that water was rushing out of the tube and pushing me under and I couldn’t find him.
The lifeguard had to jump in and pull him out.”

Pam said, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with another baby.” She shook her head. “When Lily got potty-trained, I thought
I was finished with diapers, you know?”

“You’ll do fine,” Hilary said. “You’ll have a great time watching all those late-night movies.
The Revenge of the Ants
. That sort of thing.”

After a moment, Pam said, “You had all the first things with Eric. You know how jealous I am of that.”

Hilary looked at Pam.

“His first wedding. His first time making love with his wife. His first son.”

“But look at you,” Hilary reminded her. She placed a hand on Pam’s belly where the baby was growing. “You’re able to give
him so much now. You both have a chance to make this really work. You have years left ahead with your children. For me, that
time is gone. But now I’ll have time to myself. Time to figure out what the next step might be.” She smiled. “Another season.
Another calling. We’ll see.”

Pam met Hilary’s eyes. So, the two of them came to honesty. Together, they were the Father’s pieces of artwork. “Everything’s
starting for you, Pam. While I’m learning how to let go.”

Eric, Pam, and the kids were scheduled to leave town in an hour. But before they went, Seth was intent on getting Ben in the
front driveway again to shoot hoops. “Can’t go yet,” Seth told his dad. “This kid’s got to practice his chest-high passes
before he takes off.”

Eric was in the kitchen filling the cooler with ice. Pam was checking the cabinets to make sure she wasn’t leaving Tupperware
containers behind. Hilary was keeping an eye on Lily as she toted her doll Ivy around the front yard. Lily had grown fond
of Hilary. She had even begged her parents to let her spend the night at Seth’s house last night and Pam had agreed. Now Pam
had also given permission for Ivy to go wading in the cement birdbath in the garden.

Lily was holding Ivy’s hands. Just as she dipped the doll’s bare feet into the water, an unfamiliar car drove up and parked
at the curb.

Seth dribbled the ball and bounced it toward Ben. The car door opened. Ben passed the ball to Seth, but the ball ricocheted
off Seth’s T-shirt. Seth wasn’t paying attention to the game anymore. Abigail Moore was standing in the street. Hilary swept
Lily and Ivy into her arms and headed toward their guest. But then Hilary stopped. Seth handed Ben the ball and told him to
practice his shots. Abigail took three steps toward Hilary’s son.

Seth’s face had gone pale. He just stood there.

“Hello, Seth.” Abigail closed the gap between them. She held a grocery sack toward him.

Seth eyed her with suspicion. It took him a good thirty seconds before he asked, “What’s that?”

She jiggled the sack at him. “I want you to have it.”

Gingerly, Seth took the bag from her. The item inside was enfolded in newsprint. It was rather large. Seth didn’t take his
eyes from Abigail’s face as he peeled away the layers of paper.

Abigail said, “It’s from her yard-art portfolio. It’s one of the pieces that helped her get the scholarship. Laura told me
just before graduation that you really liked this one.”

Seth’s hands paused. He stared at Laura’s mother. “I can’t take this.” His nose had gone red. “You don’t want to do this,”
he told her.

“Who says I don’t?”

“I do.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

The last of the wrapping fell away. Seth lifted Laura’s sculpture in the flat of his two hands as if the metal might sear
him. “Yeah, I told her how much I liked this one. Her stuff is…was really great.”

Seth held the piece toward Laura’s mother, trying to get her to take it back.

“She made the choice to climb that rock, Seth. You didn’t make it for her.”

“She was scared,” he said. “I told her I wasn’t going to let her leave unless she called you. Nobody was in a position to
drive. And there wasn’t any cell service.”

Abigail said, “Emily told me the story, Seth. I understand how it happened.”

“She was afraid to go up. I told her I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I pushed her to do it.”

“You pushed her in good ways, too, Seth. You encouraged her about this piece of art. You were a good friend to her over the
years. You were trying to protect her. I want you to remember the good things you did for my daughter, too. I don’t want you
to forget that.”

Seth stood with his feet planted wide in the middle of the yard, grasping Laura’s statue.

Ben bounced the basketball a couple of times and then gripped it with both hands. “Can I see it?”

But Seth ignored Ben. He was watching Abigail traipse back to her car. She had her hand on the door handle when he said, “I
don’t get why you wanted to do this.”

“Take care of yourself, Seth.” Abigail shot him a sad smile. “Someday you’ll understand.”

If Hilary tried to pick one short sentence to describe Chicago, she’d say,
This is a city where people read
. Everywhere she went, she saw people with their noses buried in books. When you rode the L, everyone was either thumbing
through magazines or peering intently into the pages of a novel. Along the Noble Square balconies with their arrangements
of plastic furniture and roses in pots, people were creasing and pleating their newspapers, perusing the headlines. Here in
Wicker Park, where there was the field house and a spray park for the kids and even the chance to dash through the fanciful
cut-granite fountain, everyone had a bedsheet spread out on the grass and they were reading. Everybody had a book open.

Hilary was sitting at the cement table alone, waiting for John Mulligan. She was terrified John was going to come around the
corner and give her more daunting trial-lawyer news that was too dire to be relayed over the telephone, something so critical
that it had to be shared in person.

But when John stepped around the corner this time, his sleeves were rolled up, his arms were bare except for his watchband,
and he was whistling. He was carrying two of those bullet-shaped red, white, and blue Popsicles.

“Here.” He handed Hilary one. “You like these things?”

“What’s wrong, John?” she asked. “What’s so important that you needed to see me again?”

Two little girls went Rollerblading past them on the sidewalk. One was a pro and the other tried to keep up without having
a wipeout. Hilary honestly wanted to follow the little girl with her arms out just in case.

“What’s so important?” To John’s credit, he seemed bewildered. “Oh. Did you think I needed to see you because of something
about the case?”

Hilary nodded.

“Did I give you that impression? That this is because of the case?”

The Popsicle Hilary was holding was called a Firecracker. It reminded her of the third grade when they’d buy them in the school
lunchroom and then laugh at one another when their tongues turned blue.

“You did.”

“Nothing’s important. Except that you’re here. That’s important. At least, it is to me.”

Hilary’s jitters started to disappear.

Oh.

Oh, I see.

Well, then.

His words evoked a twinge of surprising warmth in her. She leaned back and propped her chin on the heel of one palm.

“Did you know that some kid invented these things when he was eleven?” John’s attention returned to the frozen treat he was
wielding in one hand. “Kid stuck a stir stick inside a fruit soda and left it outside. He found it later, broke open the bottle,
and voilà.”

Hilary peeled the paper away from hers and bit into it. Then she leaned on her hand to watch John Mulligan. He straddled the
seat beside her and waved at a cop who was cycling past. “A friend of my son’s,” John said, smiling. “You just watch. Give
it twenty minutes; every cop in this precinct will meet at the fountain for lunch. You can always find them here if you need
them.”

“Thanks for the Popsicle,” Hilary said, running the stick across her tongue, loving the smooth feel of it.

“They either meet here or they meet at that place around the corner with salads and chess tables. They go in there and play
chess whenever it’s raining. Do you like to play chess? I could take you there sometime.”

Hilary asked, “Do they have black coffee?”

John laid his Popsicle stick on the cement table beside Hilary’s. “I believe so. Or, if they don’t, I’d find a way to get
them to make some for you.”

“So.” Hilary smiled. At last. A chance to employ the master skills she’d developed from listening to the hordes of boys who’d
frequented her living room. “If we visit this place, this chess place?”

“Yes?”

“Are we just hanging out together? Or are you asking me on a date?”

John threw his head back in a hearty laugh that Hilary liked. How long had it been since she’d been able to laugh like that?

“Did anyone ever tell you that you ought to be a lawyer? Yo
u do
know the right questions to ask.”

Hilary didn’t let him distract her. She propped her elbows on the table. “Well?” she said, enjoying teasing him. “I don’t
go for false pretenses.”

John picked up his Popsicle stick and pointed it at her. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to make it a date.”