All We Ever Wanted(89)

“Done with what, exactly?” he shouts back at me. “Our beautiful homes? Our trips? Our lifestyle?”

“Yes. All of the above. But mostly? I’m done with you, Kirk. With your fucked-up priorities. Your lies. Your ego and bullshit. The example you’ve set for our son—”

“Our son? You mean how he’s a really good kid who just got accepted to Princeton? That kind of example?”

“Oh, God. Enough of the good kid routine. Please, Kirk. Good kids don’t scheme against their mothers. Good kids don’t lie right in the faces of their headmasters.”

“He did that to cover for Polly. It was…chivalrous.”

“I don’t think so, Kirk,” I say, my doubts finally crystallizing. “I’m not saying Finch took the picture. But there is more to the story than he’s telling us. At least more than he’s telling me. And…and I just can’t be on board with this dynamic any longer….I want a divorce.”

   As Kirk stares at me, mouth agape, it occurs to me that there is actually one thing he could say to change my heart, at least a little. He could tell me that I’m right—or at least that he’s sorry. Genuinely, this time.

Instead, he looks right through me and says, “I think you’re making a really big mistake. But if this is what you truly want…then I won’t try to stop you.”

I shake my head and feel tears start to pour down my face. “You know what, Kirk? Teddy…at age nineteen, protested more than this when I broke up with him in college.”

Kirk rolls his eyes and says, “Well. I’m sure you could still get him back if you wanted to.”

“Maybe,” I say. “Because he really loved me….But I don’t want Teddy back. I just want myself back. And my son…if it’s not too late.”



* * *



—

TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, I’ve crossed the river, and am driving through the bungalow-lined streets of what used to be Nashville’s streetcar suburb. I didn’t memorize the Volpes’ address from our last visit, but I remember how to get there—down Ordway and a left on Avondale. When I arrive, I pull past their house and park on the other side of the street. As I’m about to get out of the car, Melanie calls me. Before I can think better of it, I answer.

“Finally!” she says, sounding frantic but relieved. “What the heck is going on?”

“What do you mean?” I say, wondering what exactly she’s referring to, and how much she knows.

   “I mean with Polly? I heard that she was the one who took the photo, after all! And then she called Lyla a slut! And vandalized her porch!”

“Where did you hear that?” I ask, marveling once again at how quickly gossip spreads.

“Beau. He just texted from school. Said he heard y’all just had a meeting with Walter? And that Polly and her parents and Tom Volpe were there, too?”

I tell her she is correct.

“Beau also told me that Walter’s questioning kids today. Bringing them in one by one. It sounds like he’s on a rampage. A total witch hunt. I’m panicked that he’s going to suspend more of them for drinking.”

“Maybe,” I say. “Or maybe he’s just trying to get to the bottom of what happened. It’s coming down to a he said, she said.”

“Yeah. But it’s clear Polly had a motive. Jealousy, pure and simple.”

“I don’t know, Mel,” I say, as I survey the scene of the crime—at least one of the crimes. The Volpes’ house is set on a rather steep hill, two flights of concrete steps leading up from the street to the front porch, a small grassy landing in between. There is no cover whatsoever, and it would take nerves of steel to climb all those steps and vandalize an exposed porch so close to the street. “I just can’t see Polly doing this.”

Melanie sighs, clearly annoyed. “The picture or the porch?”

“Either. I wasn’t at the party. And I wasn’t home last night,” I say. “I was in Bristol with my parents.”

“But wasn’t Kirk home?” she asks. “Wouldn’t he know if Finch left your house?”

“You would think. But maybe Finch sneaked out. Or maybe Kirk just…looked the other way. He’s not exactly reliable these days,” I say.

   I then ask her if she knew that the boys went to the Luke Bryan concert with Lyla and her friend.

She hesitates, then says yes, she did. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But Kirk told me not to mention it…because you’d say no…and I thought it was a sweet gesture. I’m sorry.”

I almost tell her that I can’t believe she lied to me, but I actually can. I’m suddenly as done with her as I am with Kirk, thinking that Julie would never in a million years conspire with anyone against me. And certainly not with Kirk.

“Nina?” Melanie asks, as I see Tom and Lyla pull up to the curb on the other side of the street. “Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” I say, watching as father and daughter get out of their car and walk up to the front door, neither of them noticing me.

“Honey. We’re just trying to save you from yourself….Please don’t take this the wrong way,” she continues, which is almost always a precursor to an insult, “but you’re so…irrational these days. I mean why would Finch vandalize her property when he’s already going to the Honor Council?”