On Second Thought(102)

I unlocked my jaw. “Not quite enough, though, right? Since he married me and all.”

She gave me a pitying smile. “He was going to leave you.”

“I’m not so sure about that. We were trying to have a baby.”

“Yes, he did want children. And you’re right. I didn’t realize he’d marry someone for the sole purpose of breeding.” She gave me another once-over. “He probably should’ve chosen someone a little younger.”

“Jesus! You’re breathtakingly rude.”

“You’re the one who wanted to have a drink. Would you like another? Maybe some macaroni and cheese to soak up some of the alcohol?”

“I’d love some. Miss?” I waved to the server. “Can I have an order of macaroni and cheese? And another round?”

“Of course,” she said. “Would you like bacon or lobster with that?”

“How about both?” I beamed at her—at least the server would like me better, if not my husband. “Anything for you, Madeleine? A blade of grass to chew on?” That’s right, bitch. He told me you were a vegan. We ate meat together. Deal with it.

She rolled her eyes. The happy sounds from outside grated against my brain like a dentist’s drill.

“Do you get visits from him?” she asked, leaning forward with mock compassion. “I do. Little signs, things only he would know. Sometimes I hear him say my name.”

“Usually after a few drinks, am I right?”

“I don’t seem to be the one with the drinking problem.”

Shit. Good retort.

The girl returned with my food and refill.

I didn’t want to eat, but now it seemed like a moral imperative. Spooning up some of the gooey dish, I took a bite. It wasn’t hot enough and it didn’t taste very good, either.

“How is it?” Madeleine asked with a condescending smile.

“Delicious. Want some?”

“I don’t eat things that once had a heartbeat.”

“That’s what he said,” I mumbled around the food.

Madeleine narrowed her eyes. “Look, Kate,” she said, making my name sound like a curse. “I don’t know what I can tell you. I loved him. He loved me. Because of my difficult childhood, I didn’t think I wanted children. When I saw how desperate he was to be a father—desperate enough to date you, a stranger—I changed my mind about children. And from then on, it was just a matter of time before we got back together.”

“Riddle me this, then, Batman,” I said, the vodka loosening my tongue. “He met me. We dated. We had a blast. We had so much fun and happiness that we got married. And it was great! So yeah, he answered your pathetic emails. Politely, because he was a kind person. But he didn’t leave me. He loved me.”

“Tell yourself what you need to. I know in my heart what was true. We were...” She shook her head, the image of her and Nathan’s love too big for mere words. “He felt obligated to you. I think he felt sorry for you, honestly. So yes, he stayed. For a little while.” She gave an elegant shrug. “And then you needed another glass of wine, I heard. And now he’s dead.”

I let that sit a moment.

Then I took my bowl of mac and cheese, stood up and dumped it on her head.

She gasped and lurched back from the table. “Lunch is on me,” I said. “Well, figuratively, of course. Literally speaking, lunch is on you.”

*

My hands were still shaking ten minutes later.

I was too angry to drive (not to mention the two vodkas), so I walked around out to the park, sloppily dodging dogs, joggers and kids on tricycles. It was wide-open here and flat, not like Bixby Park with its woods and paths. Not like Prospect, which was practically a forest.

I got to the lookout and stared at the new bridge. Sailboats dotted the blue of the water and speedboats motored past, coming in and out of the marina. Somewhere behind me, a band played Van Morrison’s old hit “Brown Eyed Girl.”

I had brown eyes. Had Nathan and I ever heard this song together? Had he ever called me his brown-eyed girl? We’d never danced to it; we’d danced only a couple of times, at one of his parents’ benefits, and it was more of the Benny Goodman type of event.

Well, meeting Madeleine had been a huge mistake. Hopefully, she wouldn’t sue me.

I pulled my phone out of my backpack and called Eloise. “Hi, it’s Kate,” I said.

“Kate, deah, how are you?”

“I’m... Listen, I’d like to get rid of that bench in Bixby Park, okay? It’s upsetting me.”

“Of course. Let me make the call, deah. No need for you to do it. I agree. It was very inappropriate of her.”

We made plans for lunch, and this time, it didn’t feel so awful. It felt, in fact, like I had an ally.

Speaking of allies, I called Ainsley. The call went to voice mail. Shit. Wasn’t it always the way? Just when I wanted to talk, she wasn’t around. “Hey, I’m down at the river walk in Tarrytown,” I said. “I’ll be later than I thought.” Because I got a little drunk with Nathan’s ex-wife and dumped food on her head.

I wandered over to a tree and sat down, leaning against the trunk. Took my camera out of my bag and shot the bridge, the boats, some kids, a dog. None of the shots were any good. Everything looked fake and staged.