Lost Along the Way(23)

“I don’t know why you bought two of them when we only need one,” Reed said. His voice wasn’t raised at all, but it was laced with condescension, as if he were talking to a child and not his wife.

“I bought two of them because they were on sale and it’s not a big deal to have an extra box of rice lying around,” Cara answered in a hushed tone.

“Really? This receipt doesn’t indicate that they were on sale. This looks like they were full price to me,” he insisted.

“Where did you even get that? I threw it out yesterday. Did you dig through the garbage to find it? Are you afraid that I’m spending thousands of dollars on chicken cutlets and toothpaste at the grocery store?”

“I’m getting really tired of you mindlessly spending money on things we don’t need. You don’t need to plan for a nuclear attack. We’re only two people, and you should be watching your portions anyway. Carbs are no friend to a middle-aged woman.”

Jane bit the inside of her lip to keep from screaming. Getting involved in their argument was probably not the hallmark of a good houseguest.

“Middle-aged? I’m thirty-seven. And so are you, I might add.”

“In Hollywood that’s geriatric,” he said.

“Good thing I live in New York. If you want to go out and find someone younger, be my guest.”

“Spare me the false permissions and just start following the grocery list that I give you when you go to the store. I don’t know why you have such a hard time following directions, Cara, I really don’t. All I want you to do is take the list and buy exactly what’s on it, and nothing else. And don’t try to be cute by thinking you can hide things in the back of the cabinets and I won’t notice. From now on you will show me the receipts when you get back. It’s really too bad that I can’t even trust my wife to shop correctly.”

Jane had to grip the banister until her hands turned white to not go storming into the kitchen and tell Reed what he could do with his f*cking list. She should’ve said something before the wedding, instead of just staying quiet and leaving early. She should’ve objected at the church, or done something, anything, to prevent this blessed nightmare from happening in the first place. She wondered if Cara had been dealing with this kind of criticism for their entire marriage.

“Fine. I’m sorry I overspent,” Cara replied. Jane almost choked listening to her once strong, opinionated, smart friend submit so willingly to the pointless criticism of her slimeball husband. What the hell happened to her?

“Good. I can’t even get into how angry I am about this whole Jane thing. I don’t know what you were thinking and I don’t really care. All I know is that I don’t want her in this house. You get her out of here, today. Discreetly. Do you know what people will say if they find out we’re harboring a fugitive? Do you know what that will do to my reputation?”

“She’s not a fugitive, she’s my friend. And she didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Jesus, do you not understand the concept of guilt by association? Spouses reflect on one another. Why don’t you understand that? Do you think the guys at the club or at my firm are going to differentiate between her husband and her? They are both lying, thieving, pathetic excuses for human beings and she is not welcome in this house. What were you thinking when you told her she could stay?” he asked.

“I was thinking she was an old friend who needed help.”

“She’s no friend of mine, and I told you that years ago. Why don’t you start caring about what I want and about how you can help me? That should be your concern. I’m your husband, Cara. I’m your number one priority.”

“Okay. I don’t want to fight about this anymore,” Cara said.

“Good. I’m going to work. It’s nine thirty in the morning, and I’m already aggravated. Honestly, other men have no idea how lucky they are to be able to get out of the house without having to solve a million different problems first. I don’t know why I can’t be one of them. Also, don’t forget it’s Friday. I want the sheets on my bed changed today. Don’t think I didn’t realize you didn’t get around to doing it until Saturday last week. I hate starting the weekend with dirty sheets. You know that. And grab my shirts at the dry cleaner this afternoon, too. They’ve been ready since Wednesday.”

“Okay,” Cara said quietly. She sounded defeated.

The Cara Jane remembered wouldn’t have ever put up with this. The Cara she knew was so much stronger than this. The Cara she knew was someone different entirely.

June 1994

“We shouldn’t be here!” Meg whispered, even though there was no one around to hear her.

“That’s why it’s fun. If we were allowed to be here, this wouldn’t be worth doing!” Jane said as she pulled out a pair of bolt cutters she’d managed to borrow from one of the maintenance men at school—neither Cara nor Meg wanted to know how—from the large duffel bag she had thrown over her shoulder.

“What if we get in trouble?” Meg asked again.

“We graduate tomorrow. What are they going to do to us? Give us detention?” Jane answered. She was really going to miss Meg and her rule-abiding, scaredy-cat ways. She wondered if Meg would loosen up at all when she went to Vanderbilt in August or if she would spend the next four years of her life in college drinking sodas and turning papers in early. “Besides, Cara needs this.”