Wrong About the Guy(62)

“Will you do that for me, too?”

“Sure,” he said. “If you want me to. And if I don’t have a full-time job by then. But I’m not worried about you.”

“That’s the difference?” I said. “You worry about Heather and not about me? That’s why you said you’d do that for her?”

“That’s one of the reasons,” he said, and slipped out the door.





thirty


Aaron stayed with us until Sunday, when he and his father got together to figure things out. From what Aaron told me later, there were tears and accusations and explanations and apologies and hugs and more tears and more hugs . . . and the end result was pretty much what Aaron had prophesied: blood proved thicker than the wedding band Crystal had worn for a year and a half, and Michael found forgiveness in his heart for his son but not his wife.

He and Aaron moved into a suite at a hotel and left Crystal, Megan, and the baby in the beautiful, big house.

They’re working out the details, Aaron texted me, when I hadn’t seen him for a few days and wanted to know how it was going. She’ll prob get the house. We’ll find somewhere else to live. The Peninsula’s nice for now tho.

You and your dad good?

Good an overstatement but we’re ok.

Ever see Crystal?

No. Wouldn’t do that to Dad

Too bad he hadn’t felt that way about it from the start.

I had kept my word about not telling anyone (other than Heather), but Grandma read a lot of celebrity gossip blogs, and she grabbed me when I walked in the door after school one day and stuck her phone screen in my face.

“Look at this!” she said. “Look at this!”

The headline on the article was:


Music and TV Producer Michael Marquand and Wife Separating

“Is this why Aaron was staying with us?” she said, then—to my relief—continued without waiting for a response. “I don’t blame him for wanting to escape. There’s nothing worse than being in a house with a fighting couple. Poor kid.”

I was happy to have that be the explanation.

Luke and Mom heard about the separation around the same time. Mom mentioned that Michael had called them in London to let them know that he and Crystal were splitting up and that he would tell them more in person. I didn’t offer to supply any additional details.

They came home the Saturday before Thanksgiving, and after we’d had dinner and they told me some stories about their trip, Luke left to go see Michael.

“What about Crystal?” I asked Mom after he’d gone. We were tucked up together under the covers in her bed. She was exhausted from the trip and time difference, but wanted to talk. Grandma was putting Jacob to bed. “You going to go see her?”

“Not right away,” she said, rubbing her cheek sleepily against her pillow. “I want to enjoy being home for a little while. And also . . .” She sighed. “We really weren’t that close. There’s always been this wall with her that I couldn’t get past. And I don’t like the way she stares at Jacob when he’s crying—she gives him this cold fish eye and then glares at me like I’m a bad mother.”

“You may be projecting,” I said.

“Maybe. God knows I can be hypersensitive.”

“Besides, you’re a much better mother. You know that, right? You actually take care of us. She always seems annoyed when someone hands Mia to her, like she shouldn’t be her responsibility.”

“At least they’ve got Megan. It’s okay to be a bad mother if you have a good nanny.”

“Can I quote you on that?” I asked. “The tabloids would have a field day with it.”

“Let that be the worst quote they ever get out of me.” She shifted her legs under the covers. “So what do you think happened with Michael and Crystal? Did Aaron tell you anything about why they’re splitting?”

I didn’t want to lie to my mother. And I really wanted to talk to her about it. But I had promised to keep Aaron’s secret. Of course, if she guessed, it wouldn’t be my fault.

“I think she maybe had an affair,” I said carefully.

Mom seemed suddenly more awake. She wiggled up to a sitting position. “Who with?”

“I think he was a younger guy.”

“Younger than her or younger than Michael?”

“Both?” I said it like I wasn’t sure; the word was honest, even if my tone wasn’t. “But I didn’t really want to ask Aaron a lot of questions about it.” True enough, right?

“Right. We probably shouldn’t pry.” A pause. “I met her trainer at the Halloween party—I got a weird vibe from him, like he was a little too comfortable there.”

“Interesting,” I said. “Now tell me more about London. Did you go to Harrods?”


Luke stayed out late with Michael, and when he got back, he knocked on my door and asked if we could talk.

Michael had told him everything. “I’m confused,” Luke said, pacing the floor of my bedroom, his hands thrust in his jeans pockets, deep shadows under his eyes that could have been cast by the dim light or printed there by his exhaustion and the time change. “We all thought the two of you were going out—I mean, at Halloween he couldn’t keep his hands off you. That kiss—”