The Pre-Nup Page 5

  Patrice waved this away and glanced conspiratorially at Hannah. “Of course I brought you a prezzie. That’s what grammas are for. Go peek in the front seat of my car.”

  Hannah dashed out to the green Jaguar parked in the driveway, jerked open the passenger side door, and seized a large paper bag overflowing with white tissue paper.

  “Ooh!” She dug through the wrapping to reveal a large box labeled “Fine English China.” “A teapot!”

  “That’s right.” Patrice’s smile widened. “A real tea set with blue flowers, just like in A Bargain for Frances.”

  “And a doll!” Hannah glanced sidelong at Ellie, then folded her hands and cooed sweetly, “Thank you, Gramma.”

  “You’re very welcome. Now listen, kitty cat, your grandma and mommy are going to catch up for a few minutes. Go start a tea party with your dolls in your playhouse in the backyard, and we’ll be out to join you in a few minutes.”

  “’Kay!” Hannah gathered up her loot and sped off.

  When they heard the sliding glass door in the kitchen slam shut, the two women looked at each other and sighed.

  “People were whispering at the art gallery opening this afternoon,” Patrice said. “It’s true, then?”

  Ellie knew the expression on her face was confirmation enough. “Oh God. We’re the talk of the country club already?”

  “You know how fast word travels around this neighborhood.”

  “What exactly are people saying?” Ellie pressed. “They didn’t mention anything about apple juice, did they?”

  “Don’t worry,” Patrice said firmly. “I’ll handle the gossip. You have more important matters to think about.” She nodded toward the living room. “Let’s sit down.”

  “Give me a minute to start some coffee.”

  “Please don’t trouble yourself. I’m fine. Sit down and we’ll…” Patrice trailed off as she glanced toward the dining room and noticed the traces of pulverized porcelain still scattered across the floor. “Oh dear. Apparently, I should have bought you a new tea set, as well.”

  “I’m still cleaning up,” Ellie stammered. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

  “I completely understand. Sit.” Patrice led the way into the living room and perched on the rose-and-cream-striped sofa. “I know that your marriage is none of my business. I’ve tried very hard not to be one of those burdensome, meddling mothers-in-law—”

  “Don’t even say that!” Ellie broke in. “You’ve been wonderful. No one ever could take the place of my mom, of course, but since she passed away, in some ways it’s like…”

  Patrice pressed her lips together and covered Ellie’s hand with her own. “I’m glad to hear you say that, because I’ve always thought of you as my daughter. I loved raising my boys, of course, but I always wondered if Heath and I had tried again if we would have had a girl.”

  Ellie swallowed hard. “I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me and Hannah. She adores you. And I want you to know that whatever happens in the future, I hope we can remain close.”

  “So you haven’t made any definite decisions?” Patrice looked hopeful. “About you and Michael?”

  “I’m calling a lawyer on Monday.”

  “What have you told Hannah?”

  “Nothing yet, but I’m going to have to come up with something.”

  “Oh darling, this is so hard.” Patrice’s voice was strained. “I know how you must be feeling right now.”

  “No offense, Patrice, but no, you don’t.”

  Her mother-in-law lifted her eyebrows and gave her a meaningful look. “I assure you, I do.”

  “What?” Ellie couldn’t contain her shock. “You mean Heath…?”

  Patrice inclined her head slightly in affirmation.

  “Are you kidding me? But you guys seem so happy!” Ellie winced as the words left her mouth. Everyone down at the country club was probably saying the same thing about her and Michael.

  But then Patrice smiled. “We are happy. Very happy. But thirty years ago, when Michael and Daniel were little and we were just starting out…things happen.”

  “They do,” Ellie allowed. “But there’s a difference between things happening and people making them happen.”

  Patrice continued as if Ellie hadn’t spoken. “I swore I’d never get over it. I was furious and humiliated, but most of all, I was devastated because my heart was broken and I thought I could never trust my husband again.”

  “Check.” Ellie nodded. “Check, check, and check.”

  “But a lot of time has passed since then. Births and deaths and triumphs and tragedies. And do you know what? Somewhere along the way, Heath and I fell back in love. The heart is very resilient. I healed. Our marriage healed.”

  “Okay,” Ellie said slowly. “I don’t know all the specifics of your situation with Heath, but—”

  “I don’t know all the specifics of your situation with Michael. But I do know that he loves you very much.”

  “You don’t treat people you love the way he’s treating me.”

  “Oh, I’m not defending his behavior,” Patrice assured her. “He’s debased himself and this family and I’m going to express that to him in the strongest possible terms.”

  “Then what exactly are you saying?”

  “When Heath and I reached our crisis point, I learned a lot about compromise.” The older woman smiled wryly. “You know me, I’m not one to be led around by the nose. But I refused to give up on my marriage until I was absolutely sure it was beyond salvation. There are very few things in life worth that kind of struggle, but family is one of them. At first, I stayed with Heath not because I loved him, but because I loved my children. I wanted my sons to have a father. Ultimately, keeping the family intact was more important to me than my pride.”

  Ellie didn’t respond, but she considered how alone she would be without Michael and Patrice and Heath in her life. How alone in the world she had felt before she married Michael. She never, ever wanted her daughter to experience that kind of isolation.

  “And slowly, Heath and I came back to each other. We’re more in love now than we were when we got married.” Patrice held up her index finger to hold off Ellie’s protests. “I’m not telling you what to do. I’m just giving you a perspective from the other side. You can make it through this together if you both commit to doing the work. Heath and I will help in any way we can. We’ll pay for counseling, we’ll give you the house in Sedona for the summer so you can spend some quality time together, reconnect.”

  “I think we’re past the point of quality time.”

  “And if that’s really the way you feel, there’s nothing more to be said. But if there’s even the slightest chance you’d be willing to try again, you need to consider what’s at stake. It’s a question of compromise.” She glanced up at the framed family photograph resting on the mantel. Ellie, Michael, and Hannah beamed out at the photographer. The three of them looked so comfortable and carefree. Hannah’s smile still gapped where her baby teeth hadn’t come in yet.

  She’s growing up so fast, Ellie realized. We’ll have to schedule another family portrait soon.

  Except that the next portrait would only show two of them.

  “Let’s have brunch at the club tomorrow morning. Just the two of us.” Patrice winked. “A show of solidarity.”

  “Thank you,” Ellie said softly. “That would mean a lot to me.”

  The sliding glass door in the kitchen squeaked open. “Gramma, read me A Bargain for Frances.”

  “Coming, kitty cat.” Patrice leaned in to kiss Ellie’s cheek. “Keep your chin up, darling. And try not to worry about Michael. I’ll deal with him.”

  The doorbell rang again at six-thirty, just as Ellie and Hannah were finishing a makeshift “breakfast for dinner” consisting of fruit salad, pancakes, and crisp veggie bacon (Jen’s influence at work).

  Ellie tucked her daughter safely away in the family room and turned on a Disney DVD. Then she marched into the foy
er and made her stand beneath that huge chandelier, peering out through the thick beveled panes of glass framing the door.

  Michael stood on the welcome mat with his head hung low. His hands were jammed into his jacket pockets; his shirt collar was rumpled and unbuttoned. And still he managed to radiate confidence and capability. The all-American husband and father with thick hair and perfect teeth, straight out of central casting. And with acting skills worthy of an Oscar.

  The two of them stood there for a few long minutes, separated by slabs of wood and glass, and waited. He didn’t raise his face or try the lock. She didn’t reach for the knob.

  Finally, he lifted his head and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

  All of Ellie’s rage and resentment evaporated into an almost comical sense of defeat. He was sorry?

  She cracked open the door a fraction of an inch. “It’s a little late for sorry. I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

  “Well, I have a lot to say to you.” Michael wedged the door open with his foot and hurried over the threshold.

  Ellie crossed her arms and rocked back on her heels. “Did your mother send you?”

  “No, my mother did not send me.” Michael rankled. “I’m here because I need to talk. We need to talk.”

  “Michael…” Ellie paused, trying to figure out how to make him understand. “Are you planning to castrate yourself with a rusty spoon in the front yard?”

  Michael frowned. “What?”

  “Because, honestly, that would be the only thing you could do right now to make me feel better.”

  He flinched but stood his ground. “I deserve that.”

  “And so much more.”

  “I know you hate me right now. I know I screwed up. But here’s the thing—”

  “No, Michael.” The rage and resentment made a surprise comeback. “There is no thing. Nothing you can say or do can make this better. Ever.”

  “Ellie, I love you.”

  She recoiled as if he had slapped her. “Fuck you.”

  She had never dropped the f-bomb in seven years of blissful marriage and motherhood, but now seemed like the appropriate moment.

  Michael didn’t look so calm and confident anymore. He blanched and wobbled a bit on his feet.

  “I don’t care what your excuse is or how sorry you are,” Ellie spat. “Pack your bags. Everything you leave behind is going to Goodwill. You have two minutes. The clock starts now.”

  He refused to retreat. “I’m not here for my clothes. Give them to Goodwill; I don’t care. All I care about are you and Hannah.”

  “Oh really?” Her laugh was bitter. “Then why are you having an affair? Or is it affairs—plural? How many women have you slept with since we got married?”

  “Only one.” He maintained eye contact as she glared at him. “I know that doesn’t make anything any better, but it’s the truth. And I broke up with her this afternoon. That’s why we were at lunch, actually. I was ending it with her before you even showed up.”

  “Bullshit!” (Hey, as long as she was cursing, she might as well go for broke.) “How stupid do you think I am?”

  He raised his hand like a Boy Scout about to recite his oath. “Swear to God. I knew I’d made a mistake and I was trying to rectify things before—”

  “Oh please. You were trying to ply her with red wine and squeeze in a quickie before you hit the golf course.”

  “I never meant to hurt you.”

  “You were out with her in public on a Saturday afternoon!”

  “Ellie, I know you’re pissed and you have every right to be, but I love you. Always have, always will. What can I do to prove that to you?”

  “Nothing! Your two minutes are up and you have now officially forfeited the entire contents of your closet. Get out.”

  “I’ll do anything you say. You name it, I’ll do it.”

  Ellie thought this over for a moment. “Okay. Turn back time and keep your putter in your pants!”

  “Sweetheart—”

  “You ‘sweetheart’ me again, I’m getting the rusty spoon,” she warned. “Now get out of my house.”

  Michael shook his head. “Not until you hear me out. All I’m asking for is a chance to show you—”

  “Fine, if you’re going to stay, then tell me why. Why would you do this to our family? What does she have that I don’t?”

  He looked sad and defeated but didn’t answer so she upped the volume of her voice. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” he muttered, then cleared his throat. “But I am deeply, truly sorry and I don’t want you and Hannah to be punished for the stupid mistake I made.”

  Ellie kept seething, but let him talk.

  “I’ll sleep in the guest room. I’ll let you have at me with the rusty spoon, if that’s what you need,” he vowed. “All I’m asking is that you hold off on making any huge decisions for a few weeks. Think about the future, El. Think about Hannah.”

  She stared down at the floor.

  He took her silence as an invitation to forge ahead. “I called a couples therapist and left a message requesting an emergency appointment first thing Monday morning. I hope you’ll go with me, but if you won’t, I’ll go alone.”

  “I hate you,” she finally said.

  “I mean it, Ellie. I will do whatever it takes. Anything. Just tell me what you want.”

  She gave up trying not to cry. “I don’t want to have to make this choice.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. But you’re the only one who can.”

  She flung the door open wide, letting in gusts of cold, damp wind.

  He nodded slowly and turned to leave. “Take as much time as you need. I’ll wait.”

  “Stop making this harder than it already is. Just…” Her whole body went limp and shaky. “Go.”

  He stepped outside but hunkered down on the front step and stayed there, weathering the wind and falling darkness with only a thin jacket and no further protest. Ellie closed the door and busied herself with cleaning up the kitchen. When Hannah’s movie ended, Michael was still sitting out there, silent and motionless.

  “Mommy,” Hannah called from the foyer. “Daddy’s outside and he won’t come in.”

  “I know, honey. Come on, it’s bath time,” Ellie called back.

  Hannah was full of questions through the bath/teeth brushing/storytime routine:

  “Is Daddy camping out there?”

  “When is he coming inside?”

  “Can I get my blankets and go camping with him?”

  “No, baby.” Ellie smoothed back her daughter’s silky curls, then folded back the bubble-gum pink blankets on the canopied bed. “You have to sleep inside. You had a very busy day.”

  “But why—”

  Ellie gathered her close. She could feel Hannah’s quick, steady heartbeat thudding against her own. “Mommy and Daddy both love you so much. We’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? All three of us together.”

  She read and sang and rubbed Hannah’s back until, finally, the little girl drifted off to sleep. As she headed back into the hall, she forced herself to stare straight ahead and not sneak a glance toward the front door to see if Michael was still there.

  Let him freeze. Let him suffer. Let him go see the therapist by himself to figure out why he’s a duplicitous, scum-sucking cheater. He’s not my problem anymore.

  By midnight, she had slugged back two cups of warm milk and a glass of wine, but despite her exhaustion, she couldn’t fall asleep. She curled up in a corner of the king-size bed and listened to the wind howling down from the mountains.

  Michael was still out on the doorstep. She could feel his presence permeating her house, her mind, her heart. He might as well be in bed next to her. Damn him to hell. She threw aside the comforter and stalked toward the linen closet.

  “Here.” Without bothering to turn on the porch light, Ellie yanked open the front door and hurled a pillow and rolled-up sleeping bag at Michael.

  “Oof.” The sleeping bag connected with hi
s head. “Thank you. Does this mean…?”

  She slammed and locked the door, stalked back to bed, and burrowed under the covers.

  Hannah’s thin, high-pitched voice woke her at dawn. “Daddy’s still camping on the porch, Mommy! I’m gonna get my sleeping bag!”

  Ellie rolled over in bed and squinted at the digital clock on the nightstand. Six-thirteen A.M. Hannah was going to freeze out there in her pink flannel pajamas.

  Hopefully, Michael had already lost a few extremities to frostbite.

  She wrapped the comforter around her like a cape, then padded out to the foyer and opened the door.

  “Fine,” she said dully without looking down. “You can come in.”

  Ellie Chapter 7

  I’m a size what?” Ellie clapped her hands over her mouth as the bridal salon owner tightened a tape measure around her hips and rattled off numbers to the assistant holding a clipboard. “Are you kidding me? How could I have gone up two whole dress sizes in under a week? I mean, I grant you I’ve been a little depressed and the gym has slipped down on my priority list and I may have had a few late-night indiscretions with both Ben and Jerry, but two sizes in a week?”

  “Chill.” Mara glanced up from the legal documents she was perusing in the overstuffed pink chair outside the dressing rooms. “It’s couture sizing. Totally different from street clothes.”

  “She’s right.” Jen’s voice drifted over the flimsy white partition separating the two dressing rooms.

  “So I haven’t gained twenty pounds since Saturday?” Ellie breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Nope,” Jen said. “But you really shouldn’t be gorging on ice cream—it’s nothing but empty calories and processed sugars. You need to keep up your strength and endurance right now. Try snacking on walnuts. They’re chock-full of omega-three fats and magnesium, which should help with the depression.”

  “Walnuts? Seriously? That’s your big mental-health tip?” Mara shook her head in disgust. “Remind me not to call you when my marriage falls apart.”

  “Your marriage isn’t going to fall apart,” Jen said.

  “Josh and I may not even make it down the aisle in the first place.” Mara’s ice blue eyes took on a steely glint. “Pre-nup negotiations are at a standstill.”