Well Behaved Wives(78)

Peter reached for her hand. “It’s hard to accept. I understand. If your mother had spoken up . . .”

He’d missed the point. This was about the girls and their future happiness. “We don’t know that she didn’t.”

“Right. But if she did, no one was listening.” Peter looked in Lillian’s eyes the way he did when he wanted to kiss her, but he drew no closer. “I promise that will never happen to our girls or to you.”

“It won’t, if we teach our daughters that they must find the courage to stand up for themselves, even when things are hard, and even when no one believes them. We can’t assume they’ll just know that. What better way to make the point than to show them their own grandmother?” She glanced at him. “They asked to go, you know.”

Peter gave her a loving smile. “Lillian Diamond, you are something.”

“I want them to be empathetic. Like their father.”

He shook his head, and leaned in for a kiss. “I’ve always trusted your instincts before. If you feel that strongly about it, we’ll take them.”

She laughed and kissed him tenderly. When their lips parted, she said, “Margaret.”

“What?”

“Art’s wife is named Margaret.”

They laughed. She was grateful that he trusted her instincts, that he was willing to go along with this smaller request. Because this would give him practice. He’d need to work up to the even bigger issue that was coming. The one he couldn’t possibly be expecting.





Chapter 28


RUTH

Ruth was freshening up before dinner. She had put on a clean wool dress and pink lipstick and was brushing her hair. Thirty-one. Thirty-two. Thirty-three. She would need fifty strokes to keep the oils distributed and the shine in her locks. Thirty-four. She now found she wanted to look her best, even on a day like this. Like Shirley said, times were changing.

Asher burst into the attic, carrying a plate of Shirley’s homemade rugelach.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

“Nothing.”

“Why does my mother think I need to bring you cookies? Why wouldn’t she tell me anything about what you’re doing up here?”

Ruth wanted to laugh, but she felt like playing this out a bit. Having a little fun with Asher before she broke the news. “I’m freshening up for dinner. I think your mother meant that rugelach for you. She probably thought that you’d need them more than I would.”

“What’s going on?”

“She knows, Asher. About law school. About the bar exam. About me wanting a career. Both your parents do.”

“You and my mother got into it?” He sat on the bed, his face pale, the plate cockeyed in his hands. When the cookies started to slide off the plate, he set it on the bed. “I’m sorry. I never meant for you to face them alone.”

Ruth could tell by his face that he meant it. Still, why not tease him a little? “All alone,” Ruth said, feigning as much of a somber tone as she could manage.

“Honey, I’ll go talk to them. Tell them I’m behind you one hundred percent. That . . . if they don’t accept your career . . . we’ll move out.”

Ruth realized she might have gone too far with Asher, but she was touched at how he stood up for her. How lucky she was that her husband was such a fine man, raised by such fine parents, lucky that Asher had a father who showed him how to respect, appreciate, and stand by his wife.

She felt so close to him at that moment. Closer than she’d ever felt. Any doubts she had disappeared.

“How did it come out?” Asher said.

Ruth’s heart sank. She should have expected that question. Prepared an answer. She’d been on such a roller coaster today—Carrie, Shirley’s confession, telling Shirley about law school and finding out she already knew—Asher had been the last thing on Ruth’s mind.

Now he wanted details.

And she couldn’t say. Couldn’t tell her best friend.

Couldn’t tell him about Carrie, about Shirley, about the Esthers, about teaming up with his mother to help Carrie escape. Asher was her husband, yet she had to keep these secrets. Carrie’s life, the lives of other women, depended on it. And Shirley couldn’t tell him either.

“We were making brisket together, and it just seemed like the right time.” Ruth turned her face so he wouldn’t see her lie splayed all over it.

“She never lets anyone help her with the brisket,” Asher said. “Perhaps that’s why it smells extra tasty this evening.” He smiled at Ruth. “What did she say?”

“That they already knew.”

“What?”

Ruth smiled at the idea that she knew more about Shirley than Asher did. She was honored that her mother-in-law trusted her with her deepest secrets.

But these secrets were Shirley’s to tell, not Ruth’s.

Dinner was livelier than Ruth expected, and it was a nice change from the heaviness of the day. As they ate the meal of perfectly cooked brisket, brussels sprouts, and potato kugel, Ruth felt a rush of belonging. Leon asked about the bar exam and what she felt her most challenging classes were in law school.

“Ruth volunteered at Legal Aid in New York,” Asher said. “She helped abused women and their children.”