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​Part II

May 2008

 

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​Chapter Forty-Four

VIVIAN

Vivian looked at the clock on Doctor Cantor’s desk. It was 3:15. It was also Wednesday, her day alone with “Dr. Len,” as she called him. Ian’s day was Tuesday and on Fridays they saw Dr. Cantor together.

“Time flies when you’re having fun, doesn’t it?”

Doctor Cantor said nothing. He was staring at her, as he did so often.

“Well?” he asked softly.

“We have just ten minutes,” she said.

“And how would you like to fill it?” he asked.

“Profoundly,” she answered and grinned at him.

The doctor raised a brow. Vivian knew that expression. The good doctor had only a handful of expressions: the raised brow, the intensity of concern, the challenging smile, the relaxed humdrum and the coaxing nod.

“My brother Josh is seeing someone,” she announced, as if it were at all relevant.

Dr. Cantor waited by shifting his legs and sitting back, positioning himself for the regurgitation of emotion … profound and primal, nothing less. Instead, Vivian sat blankly staring, like a schoolteacher waiting for order.

She’d been visibly upset by the news; even though Ian kept reminding her that Josh’s divorce from Janet had been final for months, and he was far better off without that “dragon of a woman,” as Ian so delicately put it. Josh hadn’t said that, he had merely muttered that he was far better off without the control.

“I know the woman he’s seeing now. Well, actually, I don’t really know her. I know her ex-husband.” Vivian turned away, as if bored by cocktail chatter at a mundane gathering.

“You seem upset,” Dr. Cantor said and cocked his head to the side.

“No, no, I’m happy.” Vivian sighed and clasped her hands in front of her. “My brother likes women, it was to be expected.”

“You don’t look happy about it,” the doctor said calmly.

Vivian scowled. She suddenly felt furious at Ian for forcing her into this ridiculous process at her age. Therapy was for the very young ... little impressionable minds that saw everything as disastrous and wallowed in pain like ducks flap around in water. She knew she had to appease her husband now, though, pretend she wanted to get better, whatever that means. God, why had she allowed Ian to manipulate her to this degree? It was guilt; must be. Perhaps, it was also loyalty, believing that she had to follow through on her promise because she owed him … for his kindness … his support. She had to let Ian believe she wanted to do the right thing and save their marriage, even though she looked upon therapy as baby dribble, some odd and unnatural form of mental masturbation. Yes, that was a good interpretation.

“What are you thinking?” Doctor Cantor asked.

Vivian said nothing. She stared back at the clock. She’d been sitting in this chair two times a week for close to a year. It was Kit’s fault, of course; everything was Kit’s fault. If Kit hadn’t been drunk that night, if she hadn’t been responsible for David’s jealousy, then there would not have been a pregnancy, and therefore, there never would have been a baby, and therefore, nothing for her to feel guilty about.

Vivian suddenly felt terrible for her thoughts. She loved Faith too much to wish she’d never been born. Then again, it had been Susie who had forced her into confronting Ian. That night at The White Horse it was Susie who’d said, “Jesus, Vivian, how can you be silent about your husband’s affair?”

“Affairs,” she had said. “Years of affairs.”

Vivian stared at Dr. Cantor. “I just wish my brother wasn’t seeing someone I know. Well, sort of know.” She couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would want to make a living endlessly listening to self-centered and impressionable neurotics who simply sought to justify their own intolerable behavior and eternal patterns.

The coaxing nod appeared. The coaxing nod had been constant, ever since she had first laid eyes on Dr. Leonard Cantor, a rather attractive man in his early sixties with a fine bald head and deep-set dark eyes. Despite other annoying physical habits, like picking his teeth and closing his eyes, as if in a trance state, the man was also a nod robot. She and Ian had appeared in his office like father and child on the first day of school, one looking upon therapy as a fire-breathing monster, and the other, as free, and safe nanny services. The nod robot had stared at them compassionately. Then he tilted his chin up and down after each and every sentence they uttered, airing their dirty underwear in his dimly lit, sparsely furnished Upper West Side rent-stabilized apartment slash office.

Ian immediately poured out his soul, gave it all up, everything, while the nod robot did his nod dance. There it was — how systematically Vivian had handled Ian’s affairs in the beginning, telling him it was a good thing, and then flying off the handle like a deranged housewife let loose on a pesky rabbit that had trampled through her vegetable garden and totally destroyed her mint and parsley.

Of course, Vivian had wanted to take Susie’s advice; she had thought about Susie’s words for hours afterwards — her annoying character analysis the night she sat there at The White Horse and referred to Vivian as “cold.”

Vivian had called Bria the night she got home from the reunion, as soon as she flew past the doorman, used the bathroom, and removed her shoes. Bria said she should leave well enough alone; let Ian get his jollies off until he got bored with this new mistress. Ian never took any of his fuck buddies seriously. But Susie’s words disturbed her, frightened her into believing that Ian just might feel slighted enough to take off with this newest hussy — probably some fly-by-night adjunct unmarried professor of early childhood — and leave poor Vivian divorced, couple-less, just another divorced straight woman over the age of fifty in Manhattan ... heaven forbid.

Well, it was strange, the way she had finally reacted to his infidelity. She had to admit that to herself, at least. For years, she had found Ian’s affairs distasteful but somewhat insignificant when compared to the whole of their marriage. Why, then, did she actually choose to confront Ian about something she preferred to ignore? Was there some bizarre connection to seeing her old friends again that had caused her to act like a crazed loony tune the very next morning? Vivian decided that must be the answer; it must have had something to do with that disastrous reunion at The White Horse Tavern. She cared that David had cheated on her, and it had only been once, but then why the hell doesn’t she care that her husband is a chronic cheater?

She glanced at Doctor Cantor. He proceeded to lift his head to the ceiling. He was engrossed in a poor attempt to hide an aggressive yawn and didn’t seem to notice her silence.

She remembered how Ian walked in the door that night at 2:00 A.M and found Vivian asleep on the couch. She’d woken up with a start when he entered.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

Ian looked startled. Vivian never usually asked, except as an aside the next morning.

“Oh, I’ve been with Larry. We closed the café tonight, last customers there. Argued over a few things … as usual.” He laughed.

“What things?” She sat up and stared at him. She knew he was lying. Ian seemed perplexed, even a bit amused.

“Oh, you know Larry; he believes that Hillary Clinton is fit to run our country.”

“Don’t you think so?” she asked.

Ian sat down and stretched his legs. “Ha!”

Vivian turned away. She felt angry. Sometimes Ian was a stupid fuck, as dumb as Josh, just as narrow-minded.

“I assume you’d prefer more years of George Bush,” she said. She was surprised that saying that made her heart beat rapidly. “You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” she blurted out, thinking of Susie, knowing she had to appear hurt.

Ian seemed momentarily shocked; he quickly looked away.

Vivian waited patiently until he turned back to her. She felt uncontrollably enraged. He was going to deny it. How dare he deny it?

“Does it bother you?” he asked, slowly and carefully, as if not sure that was the correct response.

Vivian was shocked. Why didn’t he lie to her? He should have at least been enough of a gentleman to lie.

“I’m going to sleep. I’ve had a long day,” she said quickly, wishing she had kept her mouth shut.

He stared at her. “Vivian …” he began. “I asked you a question.”

She went to him and sat on the floor. She put her hands on his legs.

“Why didn’t you lie to me?” she asked.

“I assumed you wanted the truth,” he said.

“Be discreet,” she said quietly. “I won’t be made a fool of.”

Ian said nothing as she stood and kissed his cheek.

“Goodnight, darling,” she whispered.

Her hands were shaking and she tripped over her own feet on her way into the bedroom. She knew she was supposed to weep, but weeping was beneath her. Ian’s affairs didn’t touch their lives, unless, of course, he was stupid enough to fall in love. Then, she imagined, she would just have to cope.

Later that evening, she sat up in bed, annoyed that she was unable to fall asleep. She hadn’t done what she set out to do. She hadn’t responded in a way that would have made Ian feel that his wife was a jealous hag. Instead, she was giving him permission to sleep around. Their marriage was stronger than sex, for God’s sake. How many people could say that? How many people could pretend that the truth is something other than it is? But that was easy for Vivian; she’d been doing it all her life.
Vivian reached out to put her hand on Ian’s shoulder. Perhaps the rhythm of his sleep would lull her into an unconscious delirium and she’d drift off.

She lay still for only a few seconds. What was it about the quietness of his breathing, the sight of his naked form that made her feel like setting fire to his hair?

Vivian sat for hours and stared at him, watching him turn … uncomfortably furious at the space he consumed, at the sleep he’d managed to embrace. He snored loudly and with such unbearable contentment. How could he not care that she gave him permission to put his penis wherever he chose? Shouldn’t he be up all night grieving over his wife’s disinterest? Perhaps, after all, it was the other way around and he didn’t give a damn about her.

Vivian watched as dawn peeked through the blinds and landed on the whiteness of his skin, the sparse hair on his shoulder ... the occasional freckle. Ian turned and opened his eyes to the sound of the alarm, finally reaching over her to shut it off. He acknowledged her sleepily.

“How long have you been up?” he asked with one eye open.

She didn’t answer. He seemed not to notice. He got up slowly and went into the bathroom. Vivian shot out of bed and followed behind him, roughly turning him to her as he leaned in toward the toilet.

“You don’t give a shit, do you?” she snapped. “You’re as cold as my fucking brother.”

“What’s gotten into you?” he asked as he aimed his penis for morning relief. “Don’t give a shit about what?”

She slapped him hard across the back. “You bastard,” she screamed. “What is wrong with you?”

Ian was sufficiently taken aback and stared at her with a dumbfounded expression. Vivian watched in horror as he urinated on the floor.

“You idiot! What are you doing?” she yelled out as she pounded on his back. “Stop that, stop that right now!”

Ian tried to defend himself, but his back was badly pummeled despite his efforts.

“You’re not supposed to do that.” She swung her arms all over his body as she hit him. “You’re a degenerate!” she screamed.

“Jesus, Vivian,” Ian yelled out. He tried to get away from her hands, uncontrollably swinging toward him.

Vivian finally tired herself out and ran back to bed. She pulled the covers over her head. She heard Ian enter the room. She felt his weight beside her when he sat.

Despite herself, Vivian broke into sobs. Ian, too, began to weep as he lifted her up and put his arms around her. He apologized once, then twice, then over and over again.

“You have every right to be angry,” he said as he stroked her hair. “I deserve it. I’ll never cause you grief again. I swear, I’ll stop seeing her. She means nothing to me, really. None of them ever mean anything to me. But you don’t sleep with me, Vivian.”

Vivian was startled. He believed she cared about his infidelity. It wasn’t that, it was him. It was because he was able to sleep and she couldn’t. Of course, she was in a foul mood, she hadn’t slept all night … or perhaps it was simply because she couldn’t as easily take a lover. Was that it? Perhaps that was all it boiled down to: she needed a lover, too.

“No,” she said. “I don’t care if you want to see other women. I said be discreet, that’s all.”

Ian stood up abruptly. “What? You don’t care? Then what was all this, Vivian? Why did you nearly plummet me to death? Why are you in a rage? You’re jealous, that’s why.”

Vivian looked up with tears in her eyes. “It was that stupid reunion, I think.”

“I don’t understand,” he said.

Vivian threw herself back on the pillow and cried more deeply.

Ian took her in his arms again. “Do you want to stay married?” he asked.

It was as if he’d hit her. She kissed his face and avoided answering his question, it was a stupid question, really.

“Oh, Ian, why didn’t I tell them about Faith sooner? Why did I do that to them? They needed the truth and I kept it from them for so many years. Ned seemed about to punch me and David was so forlorn, Susie so confused…and Kit, oh my God, Kit …”

Ian looked into her eyes.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

Vivian realized she had never told Ian anything, not about the drowning that never happened, not that lie about Faith, or about Kit being her mother .

“I don’t know, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Vivian … you’re not being rational. I’m talking about our marriage and you’re talking about some ridiculous reunion.”

Vivian sat back. “What do you mean ridiculous?” she asked.

“I don’t understand, you either love me or you don’t. If you’d been unfaithful to me, Vivian, I would want to kill you. Do you want to kill me? Why can’t you admit that, you want to kill me.”

Vivian thought about her conversation with Susie. Pretend you care, Vivian. Don’t be cold.

“I love you,” she said. “I really do. If you want to cheat, cheat.”

“I want you to go into therapy,” he said slowly. “We’ll go together. I should have gone sooner, if only to cure my fucking phobias.”

“What?” Vivian laughed. “Are you insane?”

Ian reached out and took her hands. “I’m trying to save our marriage, Vivian.”

She looked at him as if he held a pistol to her heart. “It doesn’t need saving,” she said.

“Yes, yes, it does. Vivian. I feel so empty ... so terribly empty. I thought it was just about me, something missing inside me that caused me to feel so awful. I wanted to believe it had nothing to do with you.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It probably doesn’t.”

“Sometimes, I feel that you care more for Bria than for me,” he said wearily. “All those trips together abroad, those phone calls between the two of you. I often feel left out.”

“That’s absurd, Ian.”

“Yet, finally seeing your rage. Feeling your rage. Ouch.” He laughed. “It has brought me back to life, actually.”

She looked at him as if he were out of his mind.

“Sweet Vivian,” he said as he kissed her hand. “Sweet, sweet Vivian,” he whispered as he wept and touched her body, clinging like a child to her warmth. “Please forgive my foolishness … my loneliness … my weakness. Let’s take a fresh start.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she whispered.

“My dear, sweet woman, I adore you. You feel. You feel as deeply as anyone.”

Vivian stroked the back of his head and sighed.

“I’m afraid our time is up,” Doctor Cantor said apologetically, as if it mattered, as if he was terribly upset to see her go.

Vivian shook her head, moving her thoughts of Ian aside. Josh’s news hit her again, the future his unknowing new bride would face. She should tell Ned so he could warn Deidre. Josh had beaten Janet, he would beat any woman he was with. Should she get word to this woman? Warn her? Tell her he was obsessed with surveillance cameras and she would live under his scrutiny, his dominance, his control, his ridiculous accusations.

Once, in her early twenties, she had faced Josh bravely, and had accused him of fucking with her head.

Josh had stared back at her in horror, and then, he’d laughed.

“You’re nuts,” he said. “You should seek help. Why would I hurt you?”

Vivian believed him then; she was still young enough to believe him. Now, she was totally fucked up because of it. She knew better, and yet, there it was, the horrifying guilt about his new girlfriend, jolting her like a sudden dousing with iced water. She couldn’t omit this information. Janet had left him because he had nearly killed her. She knew he would remain untouched. Josh always remained untouched.

“I’m seeing an absolutely gorgeous woman,” Josh had called to tell her, and the fury almost made her faint. It came back like the first time … with Janet. Her emotions were stuck in the past, stuck but flowing like an open hydrant. It didn’t make sense. He’s going to beat her.

“Goodbye, Doctor,” Vivian said calmly. “I’ll see you on Friday.”

Doctor Cantor nodded. She noticed how he looked up and stared as she turned back, as if she had something to add, but then dismissed what it was she had meant to say.

 

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​Chapter Forty-Five

DAVID

2007

After the reunion at The White Horse, David settled into life with Gerta, as it had been. He tried to make the best of it, but since he had verbalized his discontent, his discontent shadowed his days like unanticipated rain and finally led to his decision; he had to divorce her.

“I’m unhappy, Gerta.” There, the words were finally out. He looked at her as she sat under the glow of a side lamp. Her face in profile, her eyes fixated on the tips of her slippers.

“I want a divorce.” The emptiness stirred, as if reacting to his determined need to be free of her.

She barely looked up. Her laughter filled the sleek white room and seemed to bounce off one wall to the other.

“Did you hear what I said?” he asked.

“I never hear what you say,” she said. She got up quietly and left the room.

David picked up the phone. He hadn’t seen Ned since the reunion and wondered if the offer was still good.

“I need to get a divorce,” David said calmly.

“I’ll call Charlie,” Ned said. “He’ll get to you by the end of the week.”

“She can’t take my children from me?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, David. My son is the best divorce lawyer out there.”

Without knowing what his options were, or whether he’d ever see Lauren again, David met with Charlie and was reassured on the settlement and conditions he might expect. That evening, he sat Gerta down and carefully went through a litany of reasons to justify his unhappiness … finally getting out the words he’d wanted to say for years … watching as her face, contorted into angry scowls with each sentence he uttered. “We’re not suited … we never were … I don’t feel you love me … I feel your disdain for me.”

She looked unnatural, like something out of a wax museum. He thought that it was strange that she wasn’t screaming her head off; that’s what he would have expected, not this intolerable silence.

Gerta refused to speak to him. She refused to discuss it. He had to walk through the rooms as she whisked past him, giving her his explanations, his apologies, telling her he’d be out of the house by the end of the week. Still, she said nothing.

He immediately moved into the spare bedroom. He didn’t understand why she was so angry. There was nothing between them but children. A week later, he was uncomfortably living in a small apartment over his store, wondering if Gerta were capable of throwing a hand grenade through his window.

Lauren had not pushed him to ask his wife for a divorce. Lauren was no longer in the picture. This divorce was his decision … he had found the courage to go through with it on his own, no matter what his future held. It was about doing the only thing that would regain his self-respect. Charlie assured him he’d never lose his kids and he’d even be entitled to a substantial share of their combined assets, but even that wasn’t the point. The point was more about just being able to hold his head up.

It was right after that horrific reunion at The White Horse Tavern that he’d driven over to Lauren’s. He knew she’d learn all about him soon enough, all the dirty details … how he’d gotten a woman pregnant, a friend pregnant, and fathered a child, not just any child, but Faith, her second cousin twice removed, or whatever the hell she was. He had to get there first before she heard it secondhand.

Lauren listened while he tried to explain … tried to justify what he had done. Lauren said very little. Mostly, she just let him talk. She watched him carefully as he stood to grab a grape from the dining room table, or sigh and stare into space a moment before he continued. She watched and gave little reaction. At times, he was frightened; he wondered if she’d ever want his arms around her again.

When he was all talked out, past his affair with Vivian, his anger at Kit, Susie’s manipulation … Lauren stood up and walked over to him.

David looked into her eyes. “If I had known about the baby,” he said. “Jesus, I would have done something to help her. We were friends … we were bonded,” he said apologetically as he stared at Lauren and waited for a response.

Lauren sat beside him. She reached out and stroked the muscle on his arm. “You never mentioned Vivian before,” she said.

“It was so long ago.”

“When I was twenty-three I fell in love for the first time,” she said. “We lived together for two years, and the next thing I knew, he was sleeping with my best friend.”

“Ouch!” he said.

“I killed his fish.”

“What?”

“I killed his fish,” Lauren whispered. “It’s always haunted me … what I did, he loved those fish, but I was so angry. Anger makes us do awful things. You must have been awfully angry when you raped Kit.”

David sat back and stared at her. “I didn’t rape her, Lauren. I wasn’t angry, I was confused.”

“You were furious at Vivian.” She stroked his face. “Listen, you’re a good man, David. It isn’t love that makes us do evil things … it’s betrayal.”

He brought her close and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“Her father was a monster, David.”

He looked at her, clearly not sure of what to say. What did she mean by that?

“I need some time … hearing this, hearing about how you used each other back then, as weapons. That’s what it sounds like to me. I just have to clear my head about some things. Faith means a lot to me and I’m angry, angry that she was adopted out, that you didn’t raise her. You’re a good father, David. Faith had an awful childhood when she might have had a good one.”

David felt as if someone had tossed him into an endless ocean. He took a deep breath.

“It was so long ago,” he said, knowing his voice broke, knowing he was sinking deeper. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s not just that, David. I’m not sure where we’re going together. Just give me some time to think,” she said. “I find this all very upsetting. You were quite a womanizer.”

“Don’t judge me, Lauren,” he pleaded. “I was angry. I was young. Everyone slept around.”

“I’m trying not to hold anything against you, but I need a bit of space. Please. Let me think things through on my own.”

“Can I call you?” he asked.

“No. I’ll call you. I promise.”

He had no idea then that he would still be waiting by the phone months later. David finally decided he would have to adjust to life without Lauren in it. He would try to enjoy the hand he had been dealt and take pleasure in his children. He would consider his broken heart as something he deserved. The old familiar agony returned … the failure to capture love.

Clap, clap, clap, Gerta’s heels hit the marble floor, a sound he wanted to still … clap, clap, clap.

David shook his head vigorously, as if to silence it. He thought about every sound in the entire world that he hated most … dentist’s drills, nails on a chalkboard, bad drummers, and Gerta’s fucking high heels on marble.

He hadn’t lived in her monolithic, richly embalmed monastery for months. He was here to see his children, had to see her in order to get to them. He tried to avoid it, but during the week Queen Gerta had rules, and she would not let him take the children from the house.

“What are you doing, David?” Gerta asked, her tapered leg bent, her hands on her hip.

David held up his latest dime store novel, an easy-read detective story with a trick ending. “Let’s see,” he said. “This looks like a good book. What do you think? Perhaps, I’ll do a little reading while I wait for you to leave?”

“You’re being sarcastic?” Gerta straightened her little tapered legs. Her skirt was short and her barely there halter top revealed her flat, firm stomach. He knew she hadn’t dressed for the office.

“Don’t go anywhere until the sitter shows up,” she said. “And don’t be here when I get back.”

David laughed.

Gerta walked up close and glared at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Why would I be here when you get back?” he asked.

She leaned down close to his face and bit. It was excruciating to feel her mouth on his cheek; She was actually ripping his skin from his jaw. She was like a Pitbull with a meaty steak bone. David managed to pull her hair and free himself from her scissor-like hold. Then he quickly grabbed her arm and twisted it back behind her back.

“Let me go, fuck face,” she screamed out in agony.

He threw her on the couch and raised his fist in the air. He was about to pound, pound so hard he’d never again hear the clap, clap, clap on the marble floor, but he heard his daughter scream, just before he made oatmeal out of Gerta’s creamy skin.

“Mia,” he said as he looked up toward the door.

His daughter was frightened. David suddenly felt humiliated. He didn’t like to lose control in front of his children. Shit, he must look like King Kong about to chow down on poor Fay Wray.

“Don’t hurt Mommy.” Mia began to cry.

David pushed himself up with the greatest self-control. He wanted to put his hands around his wife’s neck and extinguish her life. His fucking cheek was killing him, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of rubbing it.

He ran to Mia, sweeping her up in his arms … kissing her hair. “It’s all right, baby,” he said. “Go back to the den, now. I’ll be in soon,” he whispered and watched his daughter run quickly down the hall.

He turned when he felt the tap on his shoulder. Gerta quickly brought her knee up hard, slamming into his genitals as he turned. David doubled over in pain.

“How do you like your book?” Gerta asked.

David hobbled over to the couch. The pain threw him into a fetal position on the soft plush cushions. From one eye, he watched helplessly as Gerta tossed his novel into the cackling fire. She leaned back from the fireplace mantel and smiled wickedly.

So, fuck her, he thought, he’d buy another fucking copy tomorrow. But he had wanted it tonight, was looking forward to finishing it. He had three possible suspects for the racy whodunit and he was hooked on finding out if he’d nailed it.

“Next it will be the clothes on your back, darling,” she said. “Now I am going out to fuck Harry Cox. Remember Harry … you two played tennis together last year?”

How large is hatred ... how deep does it fill the pores and muddle the mind, he wondered. How much damage can it do?

He watched as Gerta slammed the door. Out into the night she went with all her fury and her vengeance … to do what, David wondered … fuck Harry Cox … big deal.

 

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​Chapter Forty-Six

2008

Charlie had kept his word and David gained much more than he lost. That bothered Gerta most; that really made her ugly. David had his children every other weekend, and a good part of the summer, even evenings during the week. Gerta was actually powerless to hurt him. He could have been such a lucky man … if only Lauren would take his calls.

After his divorce was final, he’d called Lauren to give her the news, hoping it would make a difference.

“I’m happy for you,” she said.

“Can we get together?”

She coughed a little into the silence. David waited patiently.

“Not yet,” she finally said. “I’m still getting to know myself, spending quality time with the boys. And I’m working on a large project now … maybe, some other time.”

David wished he’d acted sooner and had asked Lauren to marry him long before the reunion, long before his dirty laundry was aired … but he hadn’t, he’d hung on to his marriage because it was convenient. He’d had his bank account and his mistress. He was home to tuck his children in each night, and he rarely saw his wife, overachieving ass kisser that she was.

Faith was sorry to hear that Lauren “couldn’t deal with it,” as she put it. David had not been looking forward to meeting Faith again, but of course, he knew her visit was inevitable. She’d want to know her biological father, despite how much of a bastard he was.

Nearly ten months after they had all gotten together at The White Horse Tavern, Faith showed up at David’s store. She tried to smile when he found her eyes, but it was a failed attempt. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. He knew immediately that someone had filled her in on all the dirty details; he wondered who … was it Kit or Vivian? It might have even been Lauren.

David looked back at her helplessly. He felt bewildered, at a loss for words. They stood motionless for several moments.

“Can we go somewhere quiet and talk?” she finally asked.

He closed the store and drove toward the lake. He would take her to one of his favorite spots on the sound that very few people could find; he’d always thought of it as a great place to be alone. They drove in silence. Finally, she broke it.

“I sort of forgive you,” she said. “Kit referred to it as a moment of passion. That you’d been friends and got drunk together one night …”

“She called it a moment of passion?” he asked softly, realizing that Kit would want to diminish the self-centered objectives, make it sound romantic, if she could.

“I’m sorry that Lauren had a hard time with it, but loving a man … and then, finding out what a womanizer he was in his youth is hard to deal with, no matter how long ago it happened. I mean, can she really trust you? I mean, are you still a womanizer? Do people change all that much?”

David felt himself swallow, and for a moment, he was afraid he was going to throw up. “I understand,” he said, though he was furious at Kit for finding it necessary to be so fucking honest about his sex life. He wondered what she’d really said.

“I heard you just got a divorce?” she looked at him sadly.

David was surprised. News had traveled fast. “Who told you?”

“Ned.” She turned and looked out of the window; cars whizzed by at a frightening speed.

“Oh, right. You know Ned’s wife, Deidre, isn’t it?” David asked. He realized he was driving slowly and accelerated a bit.

“Ex-wife, she said.”

“Right,” David said. The news hadn’t really surprised him. In his opinion, any relationship Ned had with a woman was bound to be just a repeat of his marriage to Susie.

“How is Deidre doing?” he asked. He forced himself not to be so damn judgmental; he owed Ned too much.

“Her cyst was benign, did you know?”

“Yes, I heard. That’s good.”

“Yes, yes, it is,” Faith said and took a deep breath.
“Well, I think Ned’s divorce was a good thing,” David said. “People need to be happy.”

“Yes.” She laughed. “It seems that’s all I hear about these days. Almost everyone I know is getting a divorce.”

“You’re not, are you?” he asked, suddenly concerned that she might be going through a stressful life event, even more upsetting, perhaps, than learning she’d been conceived from a drunken mistake.

“Oh, I’m not married anymore. I divorced my husband three years ago. I kept his name as a pen name because I liked it, and I had already been using it professionally.”

She looked at him and he knew she was studying his features.

“I wasn’t even twenty-one when I married Winston,” she said. “If I ever have a daughter, I’ll have to warn her against early marriages.”

David turned to her. “You don’t believe in young love?” he asked, teasing her, but aware that her divorce was probably a painful experience, and the last thing he wanted to do was appear insensitive.

Faith ignored his question. “Actually, my marriage served one good purpose. My husband was very supportive of my writing. I went to Amherst and got a degree in creative writing and he was a mentor to me. He was a writer himself and much older than I was, but we drifted apart eventually. He didn’t understand me and I didn’t understand him, not in the long run.”

“And then you wrote a best seller.” David grinned; he felt pride. She was, after all, his offspring.

“Something like that.”

“You’re very young for such success,” he said.

“Well, if the truth be known, I’ve got a trunk full of unpublished short stories and the beginning of two novels in a bottom drawer. I finally got lucky and hooked up with the right agent for the right book.”

“I’m dazzled by your success,” he said, and watched a smile form on her face, revealing the pleasure she’d received from his comment.

They didn’t speak again until David pulled his car onto a small cliff. The sound lay below them, behind a green and yellow landscape of trees and bushes that scattered lazily toward the sand, as if in no hurry to reach the water’s edge. It was a warm April day, one of those afternoons that teased the approaching summer.

“Can we walk?” she asked. “I like being near the water and it’s such a beautiful day.”

They scurried down through the brush until they were walking in the damp sand. The waves washed up toward their feet, all bubbly and white. Their footprints left impressions kissed by White Sea foam. David waited for her to speak while he skipped back, trying to avoid getting his slacks too wet.

They walked in silence for several minutes before Faith suddenly stopped. He watched as she walked back up to where the sand was dry and nearly lost to a forest of trees. As she sat down and crossed her legs, David followed and did the same, landing a bit below her so he could see her clearly when she spoke.

“You used to be my Aunt Viv’s boyfriend?” She stared at him, as if she were trying to figure it all out, his seedy little past and her conception.

“I was mad for her.” He met her eyes.

“Do you know Ian?”

David shook his head.

“You’re very different.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“You got jealous of my mother because you thought she and Aunt Viv were an item, right?”

David looked off. She wasn’t judging him now. She was searching.

“I loved your mother, too, Faith,” he said, turning back to her.

“Kit was gay … is gay. Certainly you didn’t think Aunt Viv was?”

“No, well, for a while I did. Look, we were all friends back then, and we cared about each other, not that that excuses anything. Besides, your mother was bisexual. Did she tell you that? We dated before I even met Viv.”

Faith was looking at him now; he took in the tears that had formed at the edges of her eyes. He wanted to reach out for her hand, but she was sitting too far away.

“I guess you were a busy guy.”

“Look, Faith. We did stupid things when we were young; we didn’t think about consequences. There was just emotion … reaction. We were all so volatile back then …. not that we weren’t old enough to know right from wrong. I never meant to hurt anyone. I guess that’s what I really want to say. Kit and I were vulnerable,” he continued, eagerly grasping for her understanding. “I wish I had known about you, for Kit’s sake, as well as for your sake,” he uttered, fumbling for the right words, hoping he was somehow justifying his actions. “I would have been there for her.”

He looked out toward the sea. The words to an old song came to mind … wish I had a river I could skate away on.

“I remember you,” she said and smiled. “The weekend you all thought I drowned, you were there in Stockbridge.”

David nodded.

“I thought you looked so nice, like a movie star, but I didn't remember you when we met again at Lauren’s. I should have remembered you.”

He reddened, even though he was used to compliments. “You were too young then to remember me.”

“I knew that weekend at your reunion … I knew about Kit … about her being my biological mother.”

David looked at her strangely and wondered if Kit had said something specific.

“I felt this really strong connection to Kit that weekend.”

“That’s interesting,” David said.

“Yes, it was. We were hiking together and right out of the blue, she asked me when my birthday was. At the time I thought it was because she wanted to remember it … send me a card, or remember to call. When I told her my birth date, she gave me the strangest look. We stood there staring at each other for what seemed like hours, but it must have been only seconds. The earth opened up for me in that silence. I fell into a deep black hole. I read it in her expression, we were connected by that date. I felt her shock, the recognition of me … of who I was. There must have been this profound moment of truth between us because we froze at exactly the same time. Standing there, staring at each other. I couldn’t deal with it. I thought I could, but I didn’t know what to do with my shock, or my confusion. I ran away from her. I guess it was a typical youthful reaction to something I couldn’t let in. I’d killed my real mother off in my fantasy, justified her not being in my life, and here she is in the flesh? It didn’t compute.”

“Did you say anything to your Aunt Viv about it?”

Faith shook her head. “No. When I never saw Kit again, I just figured she didn’t want anything to do with me."

“Did you go back and confront Kit with it, before you went to the lake?” David asked.

“No, I ran back to my room and changed into my bathing suit. I started singing aloud so I wouldn’t have to think about what had just happened between Kit and me. I think I was trying to downplay it. I ran right into the lake. I probably thought I needed a shock of cold water against my skin. I had to get away from the truth … that heavy feeling. I swam out, just kept swimming.”

“So you had no idea how frantic we all were?” he asked.

“Aunt Viv told me later.”

“I see,” he said.

“I had a dream that night. I never forgot that dream. I was lying in bed, covered in soft white comforters. The people around me were weeping, acting like I was dead. You were in the dream. You were standing beside Kit. Kit was crying and you were trying to console her, but she pushed you away. I held out my hand to Kit, just to let her know that I was alive, but she disappeared.” Faith turned toward the sound and looked off in the direction of a distant boat. “I never thought about Kit again. I never asked Aunt Viv about her, either. I pretended she didn’t exist. Maybe … if she’d only come to me, I would have been able to deal with the truth.”

“None of us knew what happened to you. Your Aunt Viv never called us,” he said sadly. “We thought you drowned.”

“Yes, I know that now.”

“You remember that dream? he asked. “It was years ago.”

“I recall it every now and then. It has that sense of being significant in some way, like an omen.”

“And your life went on? You were okay with knowing about Kit, about being adopted?”

“For the most part.”

Faith stood up and walked back toward the water. David watched her for a while before getting up to join her. When he caught up with her, he noticed that their strides matched, and that she was very tall, like Kit, and very lovely.

“How are things with you and Kit?” David asked.

“I like her a lot. We’re very much alike.”

“Yes, I think you are.”

“I like her partner, too. She’s famous.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of her.”

“I think two women being together is no big deal.”

“I guess not,” he said.

“Sometimes, I don’t like men very much.”

David stopped and laughed. “Not all men, I hope.” He looked at her and raised a brow. He wondered why she had said that and considered, just for a moment, whether or not it had anything to do with him.

“My male role models sucked. Does that explain it?”

David stared at her. “What about your father?”

“As I said, my male role models sucked.”

David felt confused. Josh was Vivian’s brother, and even though David had never met him, he just assumed Josh was like Vivian, a pillar of society, a good guy. Of course, Lauren had hinted that he was not so nice, but what does that mean, really? But then he remembered that somebody had referred to Josh as a bastard at the reunion.

“I haven’t entirely given up on men, though.” She grinned.

David continued to stare at her, still bothered by her statement.

“So there’s someone special? Is that how I should interpret your grin?”

“There is someone special … yes.”

“Does Viv know?”

“Of course,” she said. “But she hasn’t met him yet.”

“I have three children,” he said suddenly. “Would you like to meet them? They’re great kids.”

“I can’t wait to meet them. I mean, they’re my siblings.”

David cleared his throat. “Just give me a chance to break it to them … about you.”

“Sure.”

“I’m going to tell them that I had a love affair when I was young and—”

“I understand, David,” she said, reassuringly standing before him, meeting his eyes.

David took the air into his lungs and noticed how good it felt to breathe; yet how unnaturally his breath came.

“Does Kit know you came to see me?” he asked.

“No, but I imagine she knows I’d want to at some point, after I got over hating you, hating you for not being there for Kit.”

He put his hands in his pockets and walked away. “I’m glad you came to see me,” he said, as he stopped and turned back to her.

“I wanted to see how you felt about me.”

He saw the resemblance to himself. His feelings were one with the sea, quiet and deep … and very melancholy … like her eyes.

“Thank you for your company, David. I needed to get to know you. I wanted to see if you could care for me at all,” she said softly. “I needed to see if I could care for you.” She went to him and took his hand. She held it all the way back to the car and for the entire ride home, they listened to mellow rock on the radio station that David never wavered from, and said nothing.

When they arrived back at his store, and he had turned off the ignition, she turned to face him. “I’m staying with Lauren while I’m here in Connecticut,” she said. “I’ll speak to her on your behalf. I can’t promise anything, though. You do miss her, don’t you?”

David nodded. He reached into his pocket and took out his key chain. Faith watched quietly as he slid a key from the ring and handed it to her. “Just happened to get a spare the other day. Maybe, next time, you’ll stay with me,” he said. “I’ve got a sofa bed in my living room.”

Faith smiled and took the key.

“I live over the store … just until I find a house,” he said. “Or an apartment.”

“Oh.” Faith slipped the key into her pocket.

He looked at her carefully. “I miss Lauren very much. Should you care to tell her.”

Faith leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll mention it,” she said.

David reached for her hand. It was delicate and small in his.

“I’m really not a bad guy,” he said. “I’ve made mistakes. I’m trying to atone … in my own way.”

She squeezed his hand before getting out of the car. “I like you,” she whispered as she leaned back through the open window. “And I’ll be back to see you. I promise.”

 

​

​Chapter Forty-Seven

SUSIE

2008

Susie listened to the phone message Vivian had left her. So, she was in therapy. They should probably have all been in therapy, years ago, when they were still malleable, still capable of change.

Susie looked out toward the pool. The sight depressed her. She’d never really liked pools. They were so suburban. She was still living in the house that she and her second husband, Howard, had bought together years ago. Drew moved in when they got married, even though he hated ranches. He’d always talked about buying something else someday, something with character. They often took drives, complementing old Colonials and Victorians that sat back from the road, characteristically complex.

Susie looked around her. She felt depressed. She’d recently forced herself into taking classes at the Culinary Institute, just to be doing something. As she looked at her living room, she wondered if she should have chosen an interior design course instead. Her furniture appeared drab, the creams were dirty and the flowers against the fabric seemed surreal, ridiculously stagnant. The once plush carpet beneath her feet was flat and dingy. Drew had been complaining for years about all the crap she’d inherited from her divorce.

She’d always been attracted to men with more taste than she had, with the exception of Howard, who thought corduroy Lazy-Boy chairs were the height of luxury. God, Ned’s good taste should have been a dead giveaway. Yet, not all straight men lack flair. Drew was practically a male Martha Stewart and he was as straight as a hand of poker. He loved flea markets and craft stores. Drew knew what to do with a secondhand table and he could spend hours at house auctions. He loved flowers and fresh herb gardens and could fix everything from the roof to the plumbing. Susie wondered what he was doing with that old house in Savannah. She imagined it was nothing less than spectacular.

What was it about seeing Vivian after so many years that made me change my mind about Savannah, Susie wondered? Perhaps, she was able to recognize the drastic mistake Vivian was making in her own life, the distance she kept from a man who loved her, the uncanny ability to destroy love in one stupid gesture, one profoundly absurd moment.

Well, whatever made her come to her senses didn’t matter: it only mattered that she had. Once she decided to actually go through with the move down south, Susie savored it. She would turn the surprise into something special for Drew; God knows; he deserved it. To think she had actually wanted to prevent him from being happy. “What a fool I’ve been,” she’d uttered to herself.

Susie didn’t mention a word about her change of heart to Drew the night he came to pick her up at The White Horse; she was still mulling it over but she knew she had something worth saving and the realization hit her hard. Maybe she’d been influenced by the rest of them, hearing about David’s messed up marriage, or Vivian’s inability to be intimate with Ian. And of course, Ned, the enigma, married and appearing by all accounts as normal as Chevrolets in downtown El Paso … Kit’s pain over her baby. Well, Susie’s life didn’t need to be all that confusing. She had a good man and she didn’t want to blow it, and if that meant moving to Savannah, then to Savannah she’d go.

The transformations of age had failed to tighten the loose screws of egos and emotions … the ghosts of old angst … perfect Vivian being so less than perfect … and David had looked through her the way that most men did now that she wasn’t some perky little blonde under thirty. Susie thought it was absurd that Kit would be in a relationship with some vacuous movie star nearly half her age. Well, she wished her well. It was sad … what had happened … giving up her baby. Christ, gay people were raising kids all over the place in this generation. Kit could have kept the child. Yet, Ned made even less sense. Why the fuck can’t he figure out who the hell he is? Why drive some other woman through the maze of his unfathomable needs?

Something clicked for Susie that evening, something that made her long for comfort and trust. She didn’t feel like walking on the end of a string, or watching herself develop those ugly little stress lines below her mouth, the ones that gave away her soul and pulled her face down into the revelation of despair for all the world to witness. Her mother had always said that her face would be the roadmap of every sorrow, every nasty deed, and every negative feeling harbored since birth. “Age either makes you ugly,” her mother told her, “or it makes you gracious and lovely.”

Susie didn’t feel gracious and lovely. She noticed that her skin was turning blotchy and puffy, signs of age she could not erase with Oil of Olay or a face lift. Even her vagina went on strike after that night at The White Horse. The image of herself furiously fucking another man in her husband’s bedroom made her wince, too embarrassed to crave anything other than space and distance from this senseless betrayal. Her decision to accompany her husband to Savannah was quick and spontaneous, like most choices Susie made, and once it became real, it also became exciting and filled with promise.

Vivian had been so impressed that Drew would make the hour-and-a-half drive to pick up Susie in the city, but that was Drew. Shit, Steve Hoyt would have told her to find a gypsy cab that night … bastard that he was.

2006

A Few Days After the Reunion

She’d make a big deal out of her surprise and spring it on Drew that Saturday following the reunion. Yes, that would be the perfect time. She’d cook something splendid and splurge on the wine. Drew loved Chianti … she’d find the best.

First, break off with that ass, Steve Hoyt. Leave the creep in the wind. Unfortunately, Steve would not be brushed off so easily. Susie was surprised that he gave a damn.

“I can’t let you do that,” he said. “I’ll never let you do that. It’s too hot between us.”

Susie sensed an unnerving emotion in Steve’s demeanor she’d never felt before. The bastard was mean. In that moment, she grasped he was even capable of brutality, like wife-beating or animal cruelty.

“Let’s be friends.” She looked at him, trying to appear as sweet as a box full of sugar daddies. “I do love my husband, you know that.”

Steve backed her up to the wall and insisted on one last fuck. “One last fuck.” He laughed. “Or I’ll have to tell old Drew how sweet his honey is in the hay. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will.”

“You are kidding, aren’t you?” she asked carefully, but his answer was inconclusive.

Susie hated him, but she slept with him that one last time because she feared him. He was the only man in her life she ever hated to the core and fucked anyway.

Drew was so happy when he found her with her open suitcase.

“I’ve been acting like a jerk,” she said.

“Oh, honey bun.” Drew kissed her cheek. “What changed your mind?”

“Perhaps I just needed time.”

“How soon can we leave?”

Susie kissed him. “I love that house, Drew. I’ve been an idiot. Oh, my God … that beautiful porch.” She took his hand and kissed the tips of his fingers. “How soon can we close?”

“Won’t take but a few weeks, no mortgage, Susie.” He kissed her deeply, the way he had before they were married.

She would be rid of Steve Hoyt forever and that ass’s machismo posturing and obnoxious threats to break her husband’s heart.

Susie came out of the bathroom naked, her skin bristling with cologne and body oil. She’d never wanted her husband more. Her excitement was actually titillating.

Drew smiled as he fell back on the bed. “Ouch,” he said.

“Is that a gun in your underwear or are you just happy to see me?”

“What the hell?” He threw back the bedspread as Susie stared.

“What is it, honey?” she asked.

“What’s this?” Drew turned to her. He sat up and held out a ring.

Susie stopped short. Hatred and rage bubbled up and threatened to drown her.

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Looks like Steve’s pinky ring … the one he said he lost. He called me earlier today to ask if I’d seen it. He said that it might have slipped from his finger the last time we played Trivia.”

Susie felt her knees give way and she reached out for support. Drew caught her hand.

“What’s it doing in our bed?” he asked.

“Why that practical joker.” She laughed nervously. “He’s pulling one over on you, sweetheart. Are you sure it’s his?”

Drew looked at her for a long time. “I’ve seen it enough times on his finger, Susie.”

“I have a pinky ring. I think it’s mine.”

“I’m going to kill that bastard,” he said.

“You know I hate him. He’s an ass,” she whispered as she reached between his legs.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, that he is.”

“All I care about is you,” She nibbled on his ear. “Please, honey, don’t jump to conclusions.”

Suddenly, Drew stood up and turned to her.

“I’ve never cheated on you,” he said. “Please tell me the truth. Have you cheated on me?”

“God, Drew, I wouldn’t let him lay a hand on me. He’s a creep. I told you that a hundred times. I always said that. This is just a nasty joke; you know he’s capable of that.”

“You're blushing all over your body,” Drew said as he left the room. “You’re lying,” he screamed back at her.

Drew went into one of the spare bedrooms. Susie lay awake for hours. She wanted a drink. She wanted a gun in the house for moments like this … a short walk to that fuck’s house and two shots to the head … Betty Broderick the bastard.

Drew left for Savannah that week, leaving Susie behind with the faded flower prints and the swimming pool she’d always hated. She stayed alone a long time, hoping he’d forgive her, but their calls were strained and he made no mention of wanting to see her ever again. Almost two years had passed since Drew left. Finally, her neighbor’s dog had pups and Susie took one … something to love and care for, something that loved her, as well. Something that she would never purposely harm.

2008

Susie called Vivian back. “I’m happy to hear you’re in therapy, Viv. I think it might be beneficial to discover what makes you tick.”

“I know what makes me tick.”

“Can you come see me next weekend?” Susie asked spontaneously. “I’m lonely as hell, and I haven’t seen you that much since the reunion.”

“Has he called you?”

“Now and again.”

“I’ll spend the weekend. Sounds like fun,” Vivian said. “Escaping Ian’s constant chatter about our emotional growth would be heaven.”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” Susie giggled. “I have a new puppy.”

“Great,” Vivian said. “I’ll bring the milk bones and the wee-wee pads. You supply the wine and cheese.”

 

​

​Chapter Forty-Eight

NED

2008

Ned looked at the Jersey skyline from his wall of windows. Times like this he wished he had wings.

The condo loft was just shy of two thousand square feet and faced New Jersey. Ned could see the West Side Highway, the Hudson River, and the Statue of Liberty … very dramatic. He was mad for it. He loved the neighborhood; it made him feel young again. He even got out his guitar and played, something he hadn’t done in years. He liked going down to the river and sitting at the end of the pier. He played all the old songs, surprised that he still knew the lyrics after so many years of Deidre’s passion for mellow jazz. People gathered, young people mostly, but this was Tribeca and everyone was hip to Bob Dylan. Some things never change … it ain’t me you’re looking for, babe, Ned sang out easily, as if it were still yesterday.

He and Alejandro had paid handsomely for their condo loft on West Street, but that’s where they wanted to be … a far cry from Park Avenue. Ned felt as if he’d been reborn. Life couldn’t get more perfect. Deidre had not only forgiven him for loving Alejandro, for making the decision to live his life in an openly gay relationship, but interestingly enough, Deidre had moved on too, and she appeared to be happy, at least, until now, at least, until it all blew up in her face.

2006

Once Deidre received her clean bill of health, change erupted between her and Ned as if it had been lying in wait for years, crying to be heard. Deidre talked about life as if she’d just awoken to it.

“Thinking you might die changes your perception on living.” Deidre almost glowed. “I want to live a complete life, grab all the honesty from it.”

“What are you saying, Deidre?” Ned asked, taking her hand in his.

“I sank into an unbearable darkness when I thought I might die. But suddenly, it was all clear, all those stark realities that fleeting time gives and takes. I want a divorce, Ned, not because I don’t love you … but because I do.”

To Ned, God had appeared again, a forgiving and loving God, granting him the space to tell her what he’d wanted to tell her for weeks.

“I love someone else,” he said simply, finally getting it out. “I’ve wanted to tell you that for a while. Is that why you’re divorcing me? You knew?”

She took his hand to her lips, her tears landing on his skin. “I knew, Ned,” she said.

2008

Ned listened to Deidre’s sobs. She looked like a little girl to him, a little girl who had just been reprimanded for something she hadn’t done. Ned felt so badly. She had been gloriously happy. He wanted her to be happy. He remembered how Alejandro always said that Deidre deserved to be happy, the way only a straight man could make her. What had this straight man done to her?

Almost two years after he and Deidre divorced, she called to tell him that she was seeing someone special. This was it, he thought, someone to make her happy … but he was still sufficiently shocked, not that Deidre didn’t deserve a heterosexual male in her life, but he’d been certain she’d remain single; he was bewildered that she’d be interested in a man at all. There were times when he fantasized that he was the only man on earth for Deidre, times when that’s the way he would always want it, selfish creep that he was.

“I never really thought she liked men,” he mentioned to Alejandro.

“Perhaps you didn’t know her as well as you believed you did,” Alejandro said carefully. “I’m happy for her.”

She was sitting in Ned’s living room in tears. He didn’t understand the tears.

“So that’s that,” he heard her say. “Aren’t I the most naïve woman in the whole world? Too hungry for illusion, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry, Deidre.” Ned said as he came and sat beside her. Deidre cuddled up in his arms.

“That bastard,” she sobbed. “Faith finally told me the awful truth. We were walking up Riverside Drive and I was talking about Josh, telling her that he’s nothing like you, Ned, he’s so totally dominant.”

“I imagine that would take some getting used to.” Ned smiled.

“Faith was unusually quiet that day, like something was on her mind, pressing on her mind. She stopped walking abruptly and we sat on a bench that faced the river. She was staring out over the trees, avoiding my eyes. The day was crisp, but clear, and the park was alive with playful little children. Whatever she wanted to tell me, it would be disturbing. I certainly sensed that.”

Ned nodded. “And it was?”

“It was,” she said. “Out of the blue, she asked me if I planned on marrying Josh. I just looked at her and smiled alluringly. Her facial expression changed into something that made my stomach drop. She told me she never meant for Josh and I to become an item. I was taken aback and wondered why she would say that. It was clear she was disturbed.”

“Had she been surprised about our divorce?” Ned asked. Deidre had become quite close to Faith during Faith’s work on the book, and he imagined they told each other everything.

Deidre shook her head. “No, I think she expected it. After I told her about our divorce I told her that I’d fallen in love with a straight man. Oh, how we laughed about it.”

“What did she say to that?” Ned asked.

“She wanted to know who it was, of course. So, I told her how long I’d been seeing Josh. I thought she’d be thrilled. I didn’t expect the reaction I got, which was the opposite of thrilled. I hadn’t mentioned I was seeing him before that day because Josh had asked me to keep it under wraps for a while. I’ll never forget the look on her face when I finally told her. It was as if I’d said I was a serial killer.”

“She was probably surprised you even knew him. How did you meet Josh by the way?” Ned asked. “Wasn’t it Faith who introduced you?”

“She did, but it was quite by accident. I had run into Faith at Columbus Circle and her father was with her. It was a chance meeting. Faith had told me she was attempting to confront him about some childhood stuff. I knew they weren’t close. Apparently, they’d been estranged for years. Anyway, he suggested lunch, and I was there, and one thing led to another, and Josh and I started seeing each other. He dropped me off in a cab that day and asked me out. The rest is history.”

“Faith must have been upset considering she hates her father and loves you,” Ned said.

. ”Yeah, she sure was upset. She tried to mask it, but I saw it. I just didn’t understand it at the time. I figured their relationship had been pretty broken.”

Ned sat back and gave her a sad look. “I guess you wanted to break it off after you saw her reaction.”

“Yeah, I thought she’d be thrilled. I started to babble that day in the park, kept talking about choices and what a good choice Josh was. But I was processing her reaction.”

Ned held her hand and kissed the top of her head.

“She’d written so much about choices in her book. I told her that I had agonized over my choice to divorce you, but I had to.”

Ned sighed. “And I made a choice to come out of the closet.”

“'Then Faith said the strangest thing, strange to me at the time, not so strange now.” Deidre stared at Ned intently.

“What did she say?” Alejandro asked.

”I think you see what you want to see in men,” she said. “I smiled but the comment bothered me. We went on to talk about the book, the release date. She wasn’t showing much excitement, which was odd. She talked about friendship then, telling me that that was what the book was about. And friends should always be honest with one another.”

“I thought her book was about marriage,” Ned said.

Deidre shook her head. “Nope. Friendship,” she whispered. “Life’s deepest bond beyond parenting a child. That’s what she said. That’s what you and I are, Ned, deep friends.”

Deidre turned to Ned and kissed his cheek. “I told her that you and I had been lovers,” and she said that all friends are lovers. She wasn't talking about sexually, she meant passionately caring for each other. A passionate honesty she called it. I was trying to understand what she was getting at, but I didn’t know what it was. I thought perhaps she was jealous of my relationship with her father. It made me feel terrible. She went off on this thing about monsters after that. I can’t remember what she said, but I slowly put the pieces together … just who was she referring to as a monster?”

“This sounds very ominous,” Alejandro said.

Deidre nodded. “Yes, it was ominous. “’Why do I suddenly feel that I’ve fallen off the trampoline, jumped too high, become too cocky? Why do I feel you’re going to shatter all my illusions?’” I said to her. And that’s when she told me, came right out and told me everything."

“What are friends for?” Alejandro said sadly.

“I’m so sorry,” Ned whispered as he tried to console her.

“I was shattered. Disgusted,” she said through her tears.

Alejandro had gotten up and was walking toward the bathroom — no doubt he was bringing back a box of tissues.

“Not all people disappoint us,” Ned said. He sat back and looked at Deidre’s profile. He loved Deidre’s profile; it was what he’d always referred to as “determined good looks.”

“I wonder if we all have a dark side,” Alejandro said carefully.

“Josh Forrester is a monster,” Deidre said with a frown. “He abused his child. He beat his wife, and he would have beaten me. I don’t think many people are that dark.”

Deidre sank deeper into the pillows. “I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life.” She broke off and began to cry again.

Ned moved closer to her. “Faith spared you from making a big mistake.”

“Yes, she said she couldn’t just stand by while I got more deeply involved with him. She told me that I had to know who he was … about his control, all that surveillance shit he put all over their house, his beatings, his sexual abuse.”

“Bastard,” Ned said with disgust. “Sexual?”

“When Faith was about eleven years old, she was sent to boarding school. Faith told me that being shipped off to Europe was the best thing that had ever happened to her. But when she came home, he beat her, accused her of all sorts of things, sleeping with boys, not studying, not making As on her papers. Any excuse to tie her to her bed. Tie her to her bed and watch her under surveillance. Do you believe it?”

“God,” Alejandro suddenly shouted. “What the hell did her mother do about it?”

“She said her mother was scared to death of him and finally able to divorce him. She was completely intimidated by Josh.”

Alejandro looked furious. Ned was confused. He wondered how any sibling of Vivian’s could have been capable of such deplorable behavior, dangerous behavior.

“Did Vivian know?” Ned asked as he shot forward on the couch. “No, she couldn’t have,” he said, answering his own question. “My God, Vivian would have protected Faith if she’d known. She would have gotten her away from that bastard. Vivian would have done something.”

“Faith told me that she was too embarrassed to ever let anyone know, except some cousin she was close to,” Deidre said. “She said it was blocked from her memory for years until she went into therapy and started writing her first novel.”

“Did she ever confront Josh?” Alejandro asked.

“Yes, but he denied it. He even seemed appalled that she would accuse him of anything so vile. He made her feel like an idiot.”

“What is their relationship like now?” Alejandro looked at Deidre compassionately.

“It’s a nonexistent relationship. She doesn’t want anything to do with him, just wanted to tell him off, confront him with her truth and go on with her life. She’s engaged to a really nice man and they’re buying an apartment in Manhattan. I think that’s a great idea. It will put her some distance from Josh, whom I assume will remain in Boston … I’m quite sure she’ll never want to see him again.”

Ned suddenly had a thought and wondered if he should confront Kit with this sordid information. Perhaps she should know.

“Wasn’t Faith’s first book about child abuse?” Alejandro asked.

“I found it a painful read, but I guess it was Faith’s way of dealing with her own revelations in therapy,” Deidre said quietly.

“There was incest?” Ned looked at her sadly and she nodded.

“What will you do now, Deidre?” Ned reached out for her hand as he noticed the mascara that had dripped under her eyes and made her appear cute and vulnerable, like an incorrigible raccoon caught with last night’s garbage.

“I’m going to France,” she said with a smile. “I’m going to be working with a French designer. We’ve been commissioned for two jobs. Then I’m going to Nigeria.”

“Nigeria? What on earth for?” Ned asked.

“To help the people, teach the women how to turn fabric into designs they can sell to Americans and Europeans.”

“That sounds like good medicine,” Alejandro said.

Deidre suddenly looked sad. “I fell in love with a monster … a creep. It makes me feel dirty, having been with him.”

Ned got up and walked back to his wall of windows. He looked out on the Statue of Liberty and the quiet Hudson. “That son of a bitch,” he said.

Ned never would have imagined that any brother of Vivian Forrester’s could abuse his own daughter, beat his wife. Suddenly, Ned thought about Vivian and shuddered. It didn’t make any sense, Vivian not being aware of this kind of abuse in her own family — God knows, if she had been, she would have never handed over Kit’s baby to Josh. The guy must have been really good at camouflage.

“What are you thinking?” he heard Deidre ask and he turned.

“About being good at hiding one’s true nature,” Ned said softly.

 

​

​Chapter Forty-Nine

DAVID

2008

David looked out over the beautiful old-world charm of the restaurant, and the swirl of people who wore their money on their sleeves. Ned bit into his Tasmanian sea trout and smiled back at David.

“So, how are you holding up?” he asked. “Hear from Lauren?”

David shook his head and reached for more of the French Chablis he’d ordered at eighty-eight dollars a bottle.

“I wonder if I’ll ever hear from her again. It’s been months since I’ve even spoken to her.”

“That long?”

“Yeah. I didn’t think she’d hold it against me, but women are hard to read, especially Lauren. She’s not predictable.”
“Perhaps you should see other women,” Ned said as he continued to enjoy the sorrel cream with his delicately sautéed trout. “It sounds like Lauren might have moved on.”

“I’ve dated some,” David said. “But I feel like a fish out of water. It’s like being back on a bicycle and running into a tree because I can’t remember how to brake.”

Ned laughed. “It’s hard to imagine you being uncomfortable with women, David.”

“Vivian sure is a piece of work, isn’t she?” David asked abruptly, changing the subject. “Not telling us that Faith didn’t drown that day, letting us believe she did. Shit! Why would she want us to believe that Faith drowned?”

“Hum.”

“And why would Kit care so much that Vivian’s brother adopted Faith?”

“You ever meet her brother?” Ned asked.

“No.”

“She ever talk about him?” Ned sipped on his wine and sat back.

David seemed lost in thought as he chewed his double-ribbed lamb chop, but Ned doubted if he’d remember anything at all about Vivian, beyond his own obsession with her.

“Viv said he was their mother’s favorite and that irked the shit out of her.”

“That might explain why she could be such a bitch at times. She’s still angry about it.”

David seemed startled for a moment, then, he broke out into a wide grin.

“Yeah, she hated the son of a bitch. It was in the tone of her voice when she mentioned his name.” David put his head back as if he were thinking about it.

“I wonder why she was afraid of him,” Ned said pensively.

“Afraid of him?” What makes you say that?” David asked. “I don’t think she was afraid of him. I think she resented him.”

“Resented him?” Ned said as he took the last of his trout. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Well, yeah, sure it does. He was the favorite child … the boy. I’m surprised our Viv didn’t grow up to be gay.”

“You always thought she was, David. You took it out on Kit because you suspected the two of them were having a thing.”
David stared at Ned, his eyes pinched. “I got that from Susie. I told you that.”

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, making occasional small talk about the wine and the one or two celebrities who sat not far from their table in the trendy, and very gracious Tribeca restaurant.

“It’s good to see you, Ned,” David said. “I really owe you. Charlie was one hell of a smooth operator. He danced rings around the big shot Gerta commissioned.”

“I’m glad it all worked out.”

“It’s good to be able to pay you back for what you did for me,” David said as he brought the wine to his lips. “Charlie is one hell of a divorce lawyer.”

“He’s a great kid, too,” Ned said.

David laughed. “I don’t drive all the way into the city for just anyone, but I sure do owe you.”

Ned reached for more wine. The news Deidre had given him had weighed heavy on his mind for the last few weeks, and he wondered if he should bring it up, and if so, how would he bring it up.

“So, how are you and Faith hitting it off?” Ned asked once the waiter had brought over coffee and dessert. He bit into a piece of his fromage blanc.

“I really like her. I think she likes me, too,” David said. “She’s met my other kids, they’re crazy for one another.”

“How did you explain her to your kids?” Ned asked.

“The byproduct of young love. How’s the fromage?”

“Great. How’s the pyramid?”

David nodded, a mouthful of the chocolate pyramid dessert filled his cheeks. “Fantastic,” he managed to get out.

Ned continued to eat in silence. They finished their desserts and sat back and surveyed the very pretty room.

“So, what kind of family life did she have growing up?” Ned asked out of nowhere, catching David a bit off guard. “She ever tell you?”

“Who, Faith?” David asked.

Ned nodded.

“Well, she didn’t like her father … that’s what I get from a couple of things she said,” David said quietly. “They hadn’t spoken in years but she recently confronted him about her childhood and he denied being anything but stellar.”

Ned leaned forward. “He sounds pretty creepy.”

David shrugged. “Maybe he was too demanding.”

Ned sat back and removed the napkin from his lap. “Shit, David,” he said as he tossed the napkin to the middle of the table.

David looked up, a bit startled. “What’s up?” he asked.

“It’s Faith,” Ned said quietly.

“What about her?”

Ned took a deep breath. “She was abused as a child ... by her father. Aside from beating the shit out of her, he raped her.”

David stared at Ned, his eyes wide, rounder than Ned had ever seen them.

“What?”

“Yes, Josh, her father, raped her and beat her.”

“Her father? Josh? Vivian’s brother? He what? Raped her? Hit her? When she was a kid?”

“I’m afraid so.”

David looked as if he was trying to delete what he’d just heard — eradicate it from the conversation.

“How the hell do you know that?” he finally asked, with an expression on his face that Ned interpreted as anger, but was probably utter shock.

“Deidre told me ... a few weels ago. She didn’t marry the guy because of it. She met him impromptu when she ran into Faith and her father at Columbus Circle one day.”

Ned felt sorry for David — here the poor guy fathers a kid he had no idea he’d ever conceived, and the kid winds up with an adopted father from hell. “Don’t feel guilty, David. It’s not your fault.”

David looked away. “Fucking son of a bitch!” he blurted out.

Ned wondered if he should have opened his mouth. Now David looked furious.

“Fucking son of a bitch,” David said again.

“I’m sorry, David,” Ned said quietly. “I thought you should know. Apparently, the beatings were severe. He had surveillance cameras all over the house, too, constantly accusing her of doing the wrong thing.”

“Jesus. Did he ... did he really rape her?”

Ned sat silently for a moment. “Maybe. I don’t really know, but apparently Faith told Deidre he had.”

David slammed his fist into the palm of his hand. “Bastard. Does Kit know?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Vivian?”

Ned thought for a while before he answered. “How could she know?” he finally said.

“Yeah, yeah,” David said quickly. “How could she know? She would have done something. Gotten the kid away from him.”

David was driving way over the speed limit. He slowed down; the last thing he needed now was some cop pulling him over and finding the gun. He had dropped Ned off at his loft, and then he’d sped up the Cross Bronx toward I-95. He kept a .38 magnum in his store, in a drawer behind the cash register. David had never used the gun, but he knew how to shoot if he had to. He wasn’t going to kill the fuck, but he sure as hell was going to threaten him. He sure as hell was going to punish that son of a bitch for being such a sick prick.

David located Josh Forrester’s phone number and address from information and put the gun in the pocket of his leather jacket. He locked up the store and jumped back into his Ford Explorer. Boston would have been an easy ride. Unfortunately, the creep was up on the Cape, something David hadn’t considered. When he’d showed up at Josh’s stately townhouse on Beacon Hill, the houseman told him that Josh was at his vacation house, taking some time off. The uptight servant would not give David an address. David called every small-town directory from his cell phone until he located an address for Josh in the small lake town of Touro.

He found himself in Touro at 5:00 A.M. on Sunday morning. He had stopped at an all-night gas station for directions to Prince Valley Road. Now, he had perfect light and he found his way easily. Josh Forrester’s second home was twice the size of anyone else’s. There were other houses around the huge glass beach house, but Josh’s palace was well hidden behind large, beautiful trees and a privacy fence.

David smelled the ocean as he sat in his car and stared at the quiet road. The spring colors reflected in hi-tech vivaciousness, had more high-tech vivaciousness than nature’s own, a bit strange, almost like a techno-color induced dream.

David turned off his ignition. It was a perfect time to confront the bastard — everyone else would be asleep. He got out of his car and walked up Josh’s long and winding driveway. He took in the brilliant colors of flowers bordering the lawn, the deep rich color of the grass.

A black BMW was in the drive, newly washed and waxed. David assumed that Josh was definitely at home; he hoped the bastard was alone. Carefully, he pressed the bell and waited. After a moment, David heard activity from within. It appeared that Josh was an early riser, for he opened the door fully dressed in stiffly pressed jeans and a neat, stripped pullover shirt. He looked at David apprehensively.

“Yes?”

David was shocked at the man’s size. Josh Forrester was huge. His shoulders took up all the doorway space, and his height was that of a Harlem globetrotter. David was six feet, but Josh towered over him. He noticed that Josh’s hair was still very blond, neatly parted, and still quite wet from his shower. He looked nothing at all like Vivian.

“Josh Forrester?” David asked, garnering his nerve. He had rehearsed what he was going to say. He wanted to humiliate Josh, shame him by what he had done to Faith, but Josh was a formidable presence.

Josh nodded and shifted his weight, clearly annoyed.

“Yes, what do you want?”

“My name is David Cranston.”

Josh took a deep breath. The name obviously didn’t register, but there would not be any reason for David’s name to be recognizable.

“Do we know each other?” Josh asked.

“We’re related.” David smiled.

Josh took a step outside and closed the door behind him. He stared at David.

“I don’t remember you,” he said quietly, probably thinking that he might be on the verge of being robbed.

“Your daughter is my biological daughter.” David stood up as tall as he could.

Josh’s eyebrow arched, and David knew he had his attention.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m Faith’s biological father,” David uttered, looking squarely into Josh’s face, noticing the chiseled but harsh lines.

“You don’t say?” Josh said, no doubt noticing a resemblance as he stared into David’s gray eyes.

“I know what you did to her, you sick fuck.” David almost whispered the words. Josh’s body stiffened like an animal before an attack. “You beat her. When she was a baby, you beat her. Oh, did I forget to mention you molested her, too, you bastard?”

“Get the hell out of here,” Josh commanded and turned back toward his door.

David grabbed the gun from his pocket and quickly cocked the trigger. Josh turned at the sound; the color slowly drained from his face.

“You’re sick,” David said. “You hurt any other little girls?”

The two men stood there, staring at each other like archenemies, but it was Josh’s eyes that were filled with rage, not David’s. David felt sad, as if he might burst into tears.

“What kind of nutcase are you,” Josh asked as he took a cautious step forward. David raised the gun higher, so that it was pointed at Josh’s forehead.

“You need help,” David said and walked closer.

The movement was quick, like the leap of an animal. David would never be able to remember how it happened. Josh’s arm came up fast, knocking the gun right out of his hand. It flew to the end of the long pine porch, too far for either man to reach. David lunged for Josh’s neck and tried to push him to the ground, but Josh was unmovable.

“Get the fuck off my property,” Josh yelled as he brought his knee up into David’s stomach. The pain forced David’s hands free and he fell backward. Josh jumped on top of him and straddled his legs. David tasted blood as his face was punched, once then twice … then once again. David tried to rise, but Josh rolled over, grabbing David around the rib cage, and pressing him against his own body with such force that David felt he was about to lose consciousness. When he went limp, Josh released him. As David regained clarity, he crawled away, but then, he jumped back like an angry lion. He leaped onto Josh’s back just as Josh tried to rise to his feet. Josh was too swift, grabbing David around the neck and dragging him by his hair toward the pine porch. David heard the sound of his head as it hit the wood. He had the thought he’d been broken in two. The last thing David saw before he blacked out was the pressed cuff of Josh’s jeans, and the bright magenta flower that had fallen on his shoe.

 

​

​Chapter Fifty

KIT

2008

Kit didn’t want to run into Morgan, not after she’d moved out of the house they’d shared together in Rhinebeck. Morgan was close by, too close by, in the little neighboring town of Red Hook. Kit did not want to see Morgan with the children. It was just too difficult. So she moved back to her small top-floor brownstone apartment in Manhattan, a city full of people to whom she was not on a first name basis. It wasn’t easy living back in Manhattan. Kit had gotten used to the quaint country town of Rhinebeck and she missed the easy lifestyle, the small-town ambiance, where everybody knew her name and the quiet back roads that took her home.

Kit had never given up her lease on her West Village apartment; it was just too much of a hassle not to have an easy place to flop when she was involved in late rehearsals. Now it was odd to think of the small brownstone apartment as home.

In the same week that Kit reconnected with her flesh and blood daughter, she lost her lover to two little babies from Russia. Morgan didn’t exactly walk out the door right away, but she went ahead with the adoption, despite Kit’s protests, and the next thing Kit knew, two of their bedrooms were being turned into Disneyworld and Morgan was more obsessed on reading books about childrearing than she was about reading scripts.

“I don’t want these children,” Kit said sadly.

Morgan was determined to be a mother, but Kit’s mind would not be changed. Kit simply did not want her life altered in any way by two beautiful little babies, no matter how much they meant to her lover.

Before Kit met Morgan, she’d always thought of Morgan as way too “Hollywood” — a term that usually turned off most East Coast theater directors. It was Kemp who insisted she cast Morgan in a play they’d been trying to get produced for years. If Morgan and Kemp hadn’t gone on a secret mission to snare an audition from Kit, she and Morgan might never have gotten together.

Walter Kemp was a successful theatrical producer, tough as nails but with a soft spot for Kit. He had known her mother and was always willing to take a chance on her because of it. When Kit went to England in the late 80s and came back with a play she absolutely “had to do,” it was Kemp she went to. Though it would take years to produce, and wouldn’t open off Broadway until the fall of 1999, Kemp never gave up on raising money for it.

2001

“I want Morgan Brennan for the lead,” Kemp said as he sat across from Kit in a neighborhood coffee shop. They were feeling pretty damn good, after years of false hope, they finally had an opening date for a new play by an up-and-coming playwright.

Kit almost fell to the floor. “No way,” she said. “Morgan Brennan is not right for this role, Kemp. My lead is vulnerable, not flakey. Morgan Brennan is borderline bimbo.”

“Oh, come on, Kit,” Kemp scowled. “Give the woman a chance. She’s a wonderful actress and her agent is breathing down my throat like a tyrannosaurus.”

“I’m not going to compromise my script for some greedy little agent, or some egotistical starlet that thinks she has the range of Dame Judith Anderson.”

“For God’s sake, Kit, Morgan has her roots in the theater. She’s worked at the Guthrie. She’s worked at Kennedy Center. I even think she went to Yale. Now she wants to come home. Her heart is in the theater.”

Kit tried to get Kemp off the subject of Morgan Brennan but he wouldn’t budge an inch. By the end of lunch, Kit agreed to give the actress a reading just to shut Kemp up.

The next thing Kit knew, she was cornered on Sheridan Square by a woman in old fry boots and jeans.

“Can I just take a minute of your time, Ms. Donovan?” the woman asked.

Kit looked at the actress, she’d barely recognized her; she looked anything but glamorous.

“Morgan Brennan?”

The girl nodded. She wasn’t the least bit self-conscious. “I have just a question or two about the character before my audition, do you mind, Ms. Donovan?”

Kit was clearly annoyed. “How did you know that I’d be on this street corner at precisely this time?”

“Oh, this is purely happenstance.” Morgan smiled. “I live near you.”

“I’d call LA a bit west of here.” Kit laughed sarcastically.

“I’m from New York, Ms. Donovan.” Morgan looked at her coyly. Kit couldn’t help but notice how ordinary she appeared in old jeans and a tank top, looking like any other pretty kid in the village.

Later, of course, Kit learned that Morgan had scoped out her apartment and had waited for her to leave just so she could ‘accidentally’ run into her.

“I think this character is motivated purely by her desire to please Doctor Holly, not by compassion. I think she’s obsessed with him.”

Kit stared into Morgan’s face, which she couldn’t help but silently admire. She disagreed with Morgan’s assumption, but she smiled anyway; it was an interesting choice.

“Just play it as you feel it,” Kit said and walked away. Then she threw over her shoulder, “Don’t over intellectualize it, Morgan.”

“So I’m on the right track?” she heard Morgan call out.

Kit didn’t answer, just raised her thumb up in the air.

One week later Morgan gave an impressive reading, and Kit had to admit that Morgan could do the role. Much to Kemp’s delight, Morgan was cast in the lead. During rehearsals, Kit developed a growing admiration for the way Morgan worked … carefully and meticulously following direction and taking enormous risks in developing her character.

Kit had heard from the grapevine that Morgan liked girls, and even though she’d sensed the mutual attraction, Morgan was young and she didn’t feel like compromising her play for a hot one-night stand, which is all she assumed it would turn out to be.

Kit’s relationships had a magic number — most of them lasted no more than nine months. She was always disappointed to discover that she attracted the most damaged lesbians in the city of New York, and she wondered if it was just a byproduct of getting older. Perhaps, the good gay girls were gobbled up early and deposited into long-term relationships, leaving the crazy ones behind, ready to turn into nutty fruitcakes before her very eyes. But then again, her youth had been more of the same. The women Kit found herself embroiled with were completely possessed by the oddest neuroses.

Right after Faith’s birth, Kit had little interest in finding a suitable mate. She ached too much over giving her baby up. She didn’t have any available emotion after that. There wasn’t any room inside her that would have allowed her to include any generosity of feelings for another soul.

Then, seventeen years later, when she’d practically healed … she meets a teenager that she knows for damn certain is her own flesh and blood — and Vivian lies to her and denies it. Then the girl dies, leaving Kit in an emotional limbo.

Kit went into a real tailspin after that, and by the time Morgan appeared in her life, she was as cold as snow. How Morgan broke through the icy reserve was a wonder in itself. Kit had half expected Morgan to be as crazy as everyone else she was ever involved with, and she initially treated the relationship between them as no more than a sexual highlight and a transient moment in time.

Morgan was relentless, though. She refused to let Kit get away with denial. Falling in love made Kit furious. She absolutely hated the idea that she would have to be responsible to another human being, and she acted out her displeasure in strange ways, forgetting important dates between them, ignoring Morgan at parties, and flirting outrageously with every summer lesbian they encountered in East Hampton.

It took a good six months for Kit to let it in and open up her heart to Morgan. She finally came to the revelation that giving in to love was profoundly precarious, she would have to live her life at the risk of pain, or continue to let love elude her forever.

2006

“I met Faith today,” Kit said to Morgan, the evening of the reunion, after she’d returned home from Presbyterian Hospital.

It had been so good of Ned to take her there, urging the taxi driver to “step on it.”

By the time they got to Deidre’s room, Faith was practically out of the door. Kit was breathless as she flew toward Deidre’s bed, stopping abruptly a few safe steps away to stare at Faith.

Deidre was perplexed, and her eyes went quickly to Ned.

Faith was startled. “Ned, didn’t think I’d see you tonight.” She laughed, taking in the harried stranger.

Ned didn’t say anything. He stared back at Kit, who must have looked as nervous as a cornered mouse.

Faith’s eyes remained on Kit. The recognition slowly formed, and a sigh fell from her lips.

“I know you,” Faith said softly.

Kit began to cry. Deidre sat up in bed and looked at Ned. “Is she all right?” she asked.

Faith walked slowly around the bed until she stood before Kit, who seemed unable to lift her head. Faith’s hand went out. “It’s you, isn’t it, the woman from Stockbridge years ago?”

Kit nodded and fell into the girl’s arms. They hugged for a very long time while Ned sat at the edge of Deidre’s bed and quietly tried to explain what was going on.

Faith got the whole story that night at a sparsely populated diner on Third Avenue ─ the lie and the adoption, even about David being her father. Kit told her tenderly and carefully, avoiding putting any blame on Vivian, or referring to David’s actions as anything other than trying to deal with their mutual feelings for Vivian. Faith listened quietly and without interruption. Kit knew she was confused, but eager to hear the truth.

“Why did you look me up?” Kit asked after she was all talked out and Faith sat silently, her thoughts, a puzzle. “That’s what put this whole thing in motion, your looking me up.”

“The agency called you?” Faith seemed surprised.

“Well, yes. You asked them to, didn’t you?”

“I’ve wanted to do that for years, but I kept putting it off. I didn’t want to be disappointed.”

“I hope you’re not,” Kit said sincerely.

“Oh, no,” Faith responded quickly.

“You remembered me from that weekend?” Kit asked.

“Yes, I mentioned it to my aunt many years later, but she said that you weren’t my real mother. I’m not sure I believed her though. In any event, I hoped someone would respond to the agency request, no matter who my real mother turned out to be.”

Kit looked at her hands, anger rising again, but she assumed that Vivian had to tell them all first, and deal with the bullshit she was handing Faith later.

“I’ve thought about you so much over the years, but I couldn’t come to terms with it. You never came to see me. I thought you didn’t care, didn’t want anything to do with me,” Faith said sadly. “I really assumed you weren’t my mother. I was hoping when I contacted the agency that my mother would be someone else other than you.”

“We thought you were dead, Faith. We thought you’d drowned.”

“What? Why would Aunt Viv tell you that?”

“Vivian told me that your father didn’t want you to know about me, where I was, or who I was. He didn’t want us to be in contact at all, and you were a teenager … a vulnerable time. I guess I can understand.”

“No, I guess he wouldn’t want us to meet,” Faith said bitterly. “He’s horribly homophobic.”

“So, why did you finally try to find me?” Kit asked.

“I’m engaged to be married.” Faith smiled. “He’s a great guy and I want to have his children. I want my children to know who they are and where they came from.”

“Of course,” Kit said gently.

“I also wanted to ask you why you didn’t keep me.”

“Do you understand why?” Kit asked. “I was young, unmarried, just beginning a career.”

Faith looked sad. “I will never understand why, but I do forgive you.”

“Thank you.” Kit wanted to take her hand, to hold her close, but sat forward instead, giving Faith the opportunity to reach out.

“I wish you had kept me,” Faith said and tentatively took Kit’s hand. Kit squeezed it tightly. “I don’t care that you’re gay. I never would have cared.”

Kit looked at her, her smile slow to spread. “Then will you let me be a part of your new and very liberal family?”

Faith sat back and laughed. “Oh, yes,” she said gleefully, reminding Kit of the teenager she had been. “That is the plan.”

“What's she like?” Morgan asked. “Will I get to meet her?”

“Oh, yes,” Kit said, she was looking forward to that. She told Morgan everything she remembered about the evening, beginning with the reunion at The White Horse, and ending with her conversation with Faith at some coffee shop. They sat and talked until dawn. Morgan listened and said very little, but she was sensitive to Kit for days and didn’t bring up the babies for at least a week.

“We’ve got to start thinking about the adoption,” Morgan finally announced. “I don’t want to lose out on getting these kids.”

“I told you that I don’t want children.”

“I’m going to give you time to figure out what’s important to you, Kit. That isn’t to say I’m not going to continue to fix up their rooms. That isn’t to say I’m not going to sign the adoption papers next week.”

“Next week?” Kit was stunned and sat in the nearest chair. “What about our careers?”

Morgan looked at her as if she’d just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “Multitask, Kit.”

“How soon can you get them?”

“We are getting them in three weeks.”

“How old are they?”

“They are infants.”

“Jesus, Morgan, I’m nearly sixty.”

“So what?”

Kit stood up. “I’m moving back into the city,” she said, registering that Morgan was sufficiently shocked. “Just during rehearsals.”

“If that’s what you want,” Morgan said softly. “I can get a month-to-month on a house in Red Hook.”

“This is your house,” Kit said angrily.

“No, this is our house and I won’t live in it again until it’s ‘ours’ again.”

“These babies are not our family,” Kit screamed, hitting her fist against the back of the chair.

“I am over forty and I want children. These kids have no home, Kit. Their parents were killed and the rest of their brothers and sisters are going into an orphanage. I wish I could take them all.”

“I didn’t raise my own flesh and blood, and now you expect me to raise some other woman’s children?”

“Think of it this way, Kit … every woman’s child is every other woman’s child. If we don’t care for children who need us, we’re not being responsible human beings.”

“Oh, get off the soap box.”

“Call my cell if you have a change of heart,” Morgan said tearfully and started up the stairs. “There really isn’t any more to say.”

The next thing Kit knew, she was back in Manhattan and the Movie Star, Morgan Brennan, was reported as living in the fashionable upstate town of Red Hook, New York, with beautiful little adopted twin babies from Russia that the actress had named Sophia and Nickolas Brennan.

2008

Kit felt her cell phone vibrate and reached into her bag for it. The first day ever that the second act worked and her damn cell vibrates. Kit had just started rehearsals for a new revival of a Tennessee Williams drama, and she hated being disturbed. She snatched up the phone and noticed Faith’s number.

“Hey, what’s up?” she whispered as she snuck out the back and into the lobby of the theater. Outside, she saw people walking by, their shoulders hunched and their collars up. It was unnaturally cold for May and Kit shuddered.

“David is home recuperating,” Faith said carefully.

“Recuperating from what?” Kit uttered and leaned against the wall, a bit exasperated that Faith would bother her about David’s bout with the flu. “Is he all right?”

“Well, it seems he has a cracked rib, a broken nose and a mild concussion.”

“What?” Kit slipped down to her knees. “What happened to him?”

Faith gave her the story as she had gotten it from Josh ─ that he’d been accosted by her biological father, who approached him in a fit of fury. Kit listened quietly and wondered why David would act like such an ass.

“It seems he went up to my father’s house on the Cape and said he was my real father.”

“And so?” Kit asked slowly, thinking that Josh certainly had a short fuse. She thought back quickly to how much she had disliked him, what a frigging Neanderthal he was.

“Well, I don’t know exactly how the fight started, but my father was furious over the fact that Aunt Viv spilled the beans at the reunion you guys had. He’s furious she told everyone you’re my real mother.”

“Why should he care at this point, you are a grown woman?” Kit stood up and sneaked back inside the theater for her jacket. She caught a glimpse of the rehearsal and felt the magic. This show was another winner. She wished she could call Morgan … tell her how the actors had finally gotten into it.

Kit listened as Faith mumbled something about her shaky relationship with Josh and how he probably felt threatened by David.

“No reason to beat the shit out of him,” Kit said through her teeth.

“Look, I don’t have all the details,” Faith said, seemingly weighing her words. “Maybe he got some upsetting information.”

“What upsetting information?” Kit asked.

“I haven’t told you everything,” Faith said. Kit listened to the silence between them. “David pulled a gun on him.”

“What?” Kit said quickly and grabbed her heart. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Anyway, I talked my father out of pressing charges.”

“I’m going up to see David,” Kit said, pacing. “Do you have his address?”

Faith gave Kit the address, somewhat apprehensively. “He lives over his store. You don’t have to drive all the way to Connecticut, though … you could call.”

“You want to come?” Kit asked. “I’m taking a train.”

“No, I can’t. I’m in New Jersey.”

“New Jersey?” Kit laughed. “I’ll never be able to understand why anyone would want to be in New Jersey.”

“I’ve met Eric’s parents,” Faith said with a smile.

“Ah, the fiancée.” Kit grinned. “Did it go well?”

“They are incredible, I love them,” Kit heard the warmth in Faith’s voice. She had a vision of Faith’s full mouth, her own mother’s perfect set of white teeth.

“That’s a good thing,” Kit told her as she buttoned her jacket with her free hand.

“You’ll love them, too,” Faith said.

“I can’t wait.” Kit wondered if Faith had told her soon-to-be in-laws anything at all about her biological mother’s sexuality, and then, having the fleeting thought that it hardly mattered, Morgan was gone, and who cares anymore who older women sleep with.

“I’m seeing Aunt Viv tomorrow, at Susie’s,” Faith said. “I want Aunt Viv to meet Eric. He grew up only one town over from Susie. Why don’t you drive out, too?”

“Vivian is with Susie?” Kit asked, assuming they were getting close again and feeling a bit of a pang over it, despite herself.

“So, will you drive out tomorrow?” Faith asked quickly.

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t want me to see David?” Kit laughed. “He might need some help. He lives alone now.”

“He’s okay.”

Kit had the distinct feeling there was more to the fight between David and Josh than Faith was telling her. “I’m going to Connecticut tomorrow,” she said. “Let’s plan to get Eric into the city to meet me next week? We’ll all have dinner.”

“Of course. Well,” Faith paused for a moment. “Give David my love,” she said as she hung up.

Kit wondered what could have possibly caused David to act so completely insanely. Well, one thing for certain, she was going to find out. David was a wild card, that was for sure, but he needed a damn good reason to pull a gun on someone.

 

​

​Chapter Fifty-One

DAVID

2008

David looked across the room at Kit. He’d been so surprised to see her that he actually dropped his water glass on his chest. Kit came quickly to his side and helped him dry his shirt.

“Have a seat.” He patted the side of the couch.

“You look absolutely awful.” She winced a bit at his bandaged nose.

“It only hurts when I breathe,” he said.

“What happened, David?” Kit sat carefully at his side and pulled up the blanket to his chest, thinking he might feel cold.

David didn’t answer her. He turned instead to the window. Kit was surprised to see tears in the corner of his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Kit,” he said. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Shush, David,” she whispered and took his hand. “It might hurt those ribs of yours to expend any energy on tears.”

David turned back to her. “I’m so sorry, Kit. I’m sorry for what I did to you. I’m sorry that it wound up hurting you while I went on with my life … never knowing about Faith. I’m sorry Faith was hurt by it.”

Kit reached out and touched his cheek. “I forgive you, David.”

“She’s wonderful, isn’t she?”

“Yes, she is. So we might be grandparents someday, she’s getting married.”

“Oh, I hope she has a dozen children,” he said.

Kit looked around the room. It was mind-boggling knowing that David was someone she’d always see at holidays, someone who would bounce the same child on his knee as she would. All of a sudden, Kit was incredibly lighthearted, immensely thrilled over the idea of a life filled with children, little bitty people who chased each other through the rooms and uninhibitedly showed affection at the slightest provocation.

Kit shook her head as if to clear away the images. “Actually, I didn’t come all the way up to Connecticut for your apology, though I do appreciate it, but there’s no need for it. I never told you about the baby. And as for creating her to begin with, we were adults.”

David’s smile faded and he tried to sit himself up a bit.

“You want to know why that bastard beat the shit out of me,” he said.

“Yes, I do … you told him you were Faith’s biological father?”

“Yes.”

“So what?” Kit asked.

“I showed up with a revolver.”

“Yes, I know,” Kit said, raising an eyebrow. “Faith told me.”

“Did she tell you anything else?” he asked.

Kit looked confused. “Like what?”

“He’s not pressing charges,” David said. He looked away. “I guess Faith talked him out of it.”

“You’re changing the subject, David. Why did you show up at Josh’s house with a revolver?”

David said nothing. Kit waited.

“I repeat, David, why did you show up there with a gun?”

At that moment, David was spared having to tell her the awful truth because the doorbell rang.

“Are you expecting anyone?” she asked as she went to answer it.

“No,” he said and sat up further on the couch.

Ned stood in the doorway, surprised to see Kit.

“Kit,” Ned said. “Good to see you.” He gave her a brief hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard what happened to David from Faith,” Kit said. “I rushed up here. You too?”

“Yeah, me too. Well, I didn’t hear about it directly from Faith. Deidre told me. Faith called and told her.” Ned sat on the other side of David. “How are you feeling, old boy?”

David tried to smile. “Awful.”

“Look, I felt like this was all my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything to you about … about—” He clamped up quickly when he caught sight of David's expression.

Kit stiffened. Clearly, she was not getting the full story.

“Shouldn’t have said anything about what?” Kit asked and looked from Ned to David.

“Ah,” Ned said. He looked at nothing in particular and clearly avoided her eyes.

“Kit,” David began slowly. “You should know something.”

“Know what?” Kit asked.

“Faith was beaten as a child … by Josh,” David said quietly.

“Spanked?” she asked innocently.

“No, beaten, severely beaten.” David looked off. “And there’s something else.” He turned back to her. “Josh raped her.”

Kit sat motionless, as if the words she had just heard were being spoken too slowly … too slowly to hear.

“I’m sorry,” Ned said and reached for her hand.

“What?” she finally uttered.

“The man is a total psychopath,” David said.

Kit stood up and walked around the room like a caged animal. Ned went to her.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he took her by the shoulders.

“I want to see Vivian,” she said softly. “I need to see Vivian.”

David seemed confused. “Why?” he asked. “Vivian isn’t to blame.”

“Then I need to stop blaming her,” Kit said.

“What are you getting at?” David sat up higher and looked at her.

“A secret she once told me about … shit, it was personal.” Kit could feel the tears well up as the memory returned. That night in Vermont when Vivian had allowed Kit’s hands on her. “If I’d known for sure that she’d given my baby to that bastard I would have—”

“What are you talking about?” David asked.

“I’m talking about the sharing of secrets,” Kit said carefully. “We never discussed it again. Vivian told me in the dark, in a pitch-black room.”

“Told you what?” Ned seemed confused as he stared at her.

“That her brother abused her.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, David’s face was tight and he swallowed several times before he spoke. “So the bastard always had a sick side?”

“So it would seem,” Kit said softly.

David stared at her. “I’m sure Vivian assumed the two didn’t necessarily relate. I mean, how can a normal man hurt a child?”

“Vivian is in some strange state of denial, it’s where she’s been all her life,” Kit said.

“Did you take the train to Hartford?” Ned suddenly asked her.

“Yes.” She looked at him quizzically.

“Then I’ll drive you back to the city. We can get there by late afternoon,” Ned said as he zipped up his jacket. “Perhaps you and Vivian need to speak about this.”

“She’s not in the city. She’s in New Jersey with Susie,” Kit said as she reached for her shoulder bag.

Ned seemed surprised. “Fine, I’ll take you there,” he said.

“Wait a minute,” David called out. “I need to speak with Vivian, too. She never told me about Josh, why didn’t she ever tell me what he did to her?”

“There are things women don’t tell men,” Kit said quietly. “Might give them ideas.”

“You want to join us?” Ned asked and looked at David.

David nodded. "You bet."

“Fine, we’ll go in my car.” Ned scrutinized David’s condition. “Are you all right to travel?”

“I’ll make sure I’m all right.”

“Then let’s hit the road,” Kit said slowly.

 

​

​Chapter Fifty-Two

VIVIAN

2008

Susie put her feet up on the couch; the puppy lay across her chest, staring, soulfully, up into her eyes.

“He looks like a cross between a beagle and a cocker; is that possible?” Vivian laughed.

“Perhaps he’s a beagcock.” Susie laughed with her.

“Let’s assume that.” Vivian giggled as she drank more wine. “I definitely like that, a beagcock.”

“So, I am finally going to see Faith Forrester Denton again?” Susie asked. “Oh, Vivian, why did you let us all believe in that lie for so many years?”

“No lie. It was an omission.” Vivian sat up. “It was stupid. I should have been stronger and not listened to Josh. He’s paranoid.”

“So, why did you listen to Josh?” Susie asked. “His being paranoid is no excuse.”

“Josh,” Vivian said slowly, drawing out each letter. “Can be very persuasive.”

“I guess that makes sense. I guess, since he was adopting Kit’s baby, he had a right to make sure that Faith didn’t know about her real mother.”

“Kit recognized Faith the weekend of the reunion in ‘89. Can you believe it? She knew the minute she laid eyes on Faith. It was uncanny. I made the mistake of telling Josh that the two of them were bonding, and the next thing I knew … there was Faith’s mysterious disappearance in Lake Mahkeenac … and he insisted I let you all believe that she drowned.”

“His paranoia doesn’t make sense, Vivian. Faith was fifteen by that time, she knew she was adopted, so why not just let her know about Kit?”

“My brother has been paranoid all his life. He’s just a paranoid prick, that’s who he is.” Vivian sighed.

“I guess that sort of explains it,” Susie said. “But I think Kit should have kept the baby.”

“Gay people didn’t raise babies in those days, Susie. She thought she was doing the right thing.”

“I guess.”

“Of course,” Vivian said adamantly and reached in the bowl for another Macadamia nut.

“So Ned’s ex-wife stopped seeing your brother?” Susie asked and watched as Vivian nodded. “Why, do you think?”

Vivian sat back. “I think she discovered that Josh is a paranoid prick.”

“Ah, makes sense,” Susie said and sat up as the dog jumped from her lap. “I hear a car, do you?”

“Really?” Vivian said as she looked at her wristwatch. “Faith said she wouldn’t be by until later … perhaps she’s a bit early.”

Susie got up and walked to the window. “It’s Ned’s car,” she called out as she peered through the blinds.

“Ned? What’s he doing here?” Vivian asked.

“Don’t know,” Susie said. “Is that David?” Susie turned and stared back at Vivian. “David is with him.”

Vivian joined Susie at the window and stared out. “My God, David looks awful,” she said. “Is he limping?”

“Shit, Kit is with them, too.” Susie looked at Vivian, bewildered, letting her mouth droop. “What are they all doing here?”

“I don’t know,” Vivian said and started to laugh nervously. She thought back to her brief conversation with Faith earlier that day. She’d called Vivian on her cell phone to confirm directions to Susie’s house. Vivian learned from Faith that David had driven up to the Cape and confronted Josh, and that Josh had beaten the shit out of him. Vivian thought it was because David had been surly … or belligerent. That was so like him. Vivian thought it was insignificant; she had chalked it up to David’s temper.

“How sweet.” Susie smiled. “A reunion.”

Susie held the front door open as they all marched in, like soldiers on a mission. She watched, as one by one, they made their way inside. David looked around the living room. Vivian was sitting in a large comfortable chair with a faded flower print. Her feet were curled around her and she had on a man’s tailored shirt. David sat on the couch and looked at her pensively. Vivian chewed on her thumbnail and stared at him curiously.

“What a surprise, David,” she said, finally filling the silence.

Ned walked into the room after giving Susie a brief hug. He stood behind the couch and acknowledged Vivian with a nod.

Vivian looked over at Susie and raised her eyes, “what the hell is going on?”

Kit joined David on the couch and petted the puppy that had attached itself to her side.

“Kit?” Vivian began. “Are you all right?”

Susie came into the room and put her hands on her hips.

“To what do we owe this unexpected visit?” she asked and stared at Ned.

David looked at the tip of his shoes. “Vivian,” he said and sat closer to the edge of the couch. “I have unpleasant news.”

“You pulled a gun on Josh?” Vivian said. “I know all about it.”

“Do you want to know why I lost my temper?”

Vivian turned away. “Why do you always lose your temper, David? It’s because you don’t think before you act.” She turned back to him. “Did he ignore you at a cocktail party? Did he mispronounce your name? Forget to compliment your good looks?”

David stood up. “Your fucking brother raped my daughter,” he said as he glared at her. “When she was only a child. He also beat her up.”

Vivian sat upright, as if hit from behind. “What?” she whispered.

“You heard me,” David said. “I don’t know how often he abused her. I dread to think about that.”

Vivian covered her face with her hands. No one said anything. Finally, she looked up. They were all staring at her, waiting for a response.

“What are you talking about?” Susie broke the silence and looked from one to the other.

“How would you know something like that?” Vivian whispered as Susie came to her side and sat on the edge of her chair. “That’s so incredibly personal, in my brother’s past, not for public knowledge.”

“Faith told Deidre,” Ned said. “She didn’t want her friend to marry a psychopath, so she told her.”

“My God.” Vivian put her head down. Her suspicions were verified. She’d asked Faith so many times, why a book about child abuse, Faith? Isn’t that a strange subject?

Susie reached out for Vivian’s hand and held it. Kit rose from the couch and went to Vivian’s side, the puppy followed her, oblivious to the unfolding drama.

Oh, Aunt Viv, child abuse is a hot topic. Turn on television. It’s everywhere you look. Ah, Vivian had been appeased. No connection.

“I told them,” Kit said softly as she knelt before Vivian.

“Told them what?” Vivian asked.

Kit stared at her. “That night in Vermont …” she whispered.

“Oh, my God,” Vivian said as she rocked back and forth. David slid down on the floor at her side as well.

“Tell us you didn’t know, Vivian,” David said quietly.

Vivian shook her head.

“What are you all talking about?” Susie asked.

“Her brother used to beat her up …” Ned began. “Did he ever rape you, Viv?” he asked softly.

“What?” Susie gasped, as the implication hit her.

“I insisted she go to boarding school,” Vivian wept. “I got her away from Josh when I suspected.” She looked at Kit and cried more deeply.

“Why, Vivian … why did you trust him to raise her?” Kit cried out. “She wasn’t in boarding school until she was eleven years old.”

“I couldn’t admit it. I just couldn’t admit it,” Vivian screamed. “It wasn’t real. He told me it wasn’t real and I believed him.”

“Damn you, Vivian,” Kit said and sat back.

“I loved that little girl,” Vivian wept. “I loved her like my own child and I forced Josh to send her to boarding school. I protected her, Kit, I really did.”

Kit went to Vivian and raised her face. She stared into her pained expression. “You knew then, you knew that Josh was inflicting harm on her?” Kit asked, her face a red mask.

“Oh, no,” Vivian said. “I suspected much later when she was acting out so much as a teenager. I suspected that it might have happened, that’s all.”

“Jesus,” Kit said and stepped away. “You gave my baby to this monster?”

“No,” Vivian screamed. “I wouldn’t have. I wouldn't have, but he got her.”

“You knew and you never told me.” Kit threw her head back as if she might scream. “We might have gone to court and gotten her away from him.”

"He’s my brother. I thought I’d imagined it all. I thought I was the one who had imagined it. I thought my parents were right, it was sick of me to accuse him. Don’t you see, I thought he was the innocent one,” Vivian cried, as the others stood by and looked at her as if they’d never seen her before.

“So when he told you to lie and tell us all that Faith drowned, you followed his orders out of what?” Ned asked.

“I thought I should,” Vivian said frantically.

“Didn’t you tell anyone when you were little what he was doing to you?” David asked gently.

Vivian nodded her head. “A lot of good it did. The bruises were always shrugged off as childhood falls.”

“It was more than just beatings, wasn’t it, Vivian?” Kit stared at her.

Vivian stared back at her and then at the others. “Incest,” she said softly. “It was incest.”

No one spoke for several minutes as Vivian wept.

Ned knelt before her. “It’s all right, don’t cry. It was a terrible thing, and it wasn’t your fault. He’s a very sick man.”

David squeezed her hand. “It wasn’t you, it was him,” he said.

“Why didn’t you tell us about your brother?” Susie asked. “We were your friends.”

“Because I avoided the truth … it scared me. It still scares me.” Vivian looked at Susie. “I had to be perfect. I wanted to forget anything like that ever happened to me.”

“All of us are ashamed of something,” David said slowly. “Why didn’t you ever trust me enough, Vivian?” David asked and put his arms around her legs. “It would have explained so much.”

“What are you talking about, David?” Vivian picked up her head and wiped her eyes. “I survived, didn’t I? Faith survived, didn’t she?”

They didn’t answer her. Their silence was answer enough. They believed she was screwed up. “None of you have the right to judge me,” Vivian whispered.

“We’re not judging you, Vivian,” Susie said quickly.

“Speak for yourself.” Kit got up and walked away. Vivian’s eyes followed her. “Why now, Vivian?” Kit asked as she turned back to glare at her. “Why did you bring us all together to tell us about Faith? Why did you feel it was necessary to tell us the truth after so many years?”

Vivian put her head in her hands again. They waited for her to speak. Their patience was commendable. Their patience was intolerable. Finally, Vivian raised her eyes and looked at each of them. “I told you, I thought you’d find out about Faith, that she was alive, that I’d lied about her drowning. I thought you’d recognize her. She was getting so much publicity. I owed it to you. The truth had to come from me.”

“You should have told us the truth years ago,” David said loudly and slapped his fist into the palm of his hand. “You fucked with our heads, Vivian.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean to,” Vivian said quickly. “I never felt right about it.”

“You knew Faith had the agency contact me, didn’t you, Vivian?” Kit asked quickly from the corner of the room. “Didn’t you?” she screamed. “You had to come clean.”

Vivian shook her head.

“Bullshit,” Kit screamed as she walked to her. “Don’t give me all that crap about the truth. The truth only mattered when Faith decided to find me. You needed to tell us all first, to pretend you were doing the right thing … finally. But you’re full of shit, Vivian … full of shit. You didn’t want to look bad in front of Faith.”

“I had no idea she was going to look you up,” Vivian said sadly, “no idea at all.”

“Bullshit!” Kit screamed again.

“I hear a car,” Susie rose from her feet and went to the window.

“I didn’t know,” Vivian said again and looked at Kit apologetically.

“I think it’s Faith,” Susie turned back into the room.

Vivian looked around her. They were all disgusted with her, their anger enveloping her. “I look forward to meeting her fiancé, don’t you?” she asked Kit and reached out her hand, hoping Kit might take it.

Kit turned away. “If I could only go back,” she whispered. “If I could only go back, Vivian. I would have grabbed that baby right out of your brother’s fucking hands.”

 

​

​Chapter Fifty-Three

SUSIE

2008

Susie sat in her bedroom chair and faced the window. What a night it had been. Faith was as light and bubbly as a circus balloon. Her young man, Eric, glowed when he looked at her, holding her hand and smiling chivalrously every time she spoke. Yes, that’s what young love is supposed to be, full of promise and hope. They were ecstatic when Faith told them all that she was pregnant. David jumped up out of his chair and ran to Faith, almost weeping over the news. Kit started to cry. Interesting, Susie thought, how news of a baby brings with it a euphoric giddiness ─ opens a doorway on forgiveness. Faith was kind. She went to Kit and hugged her, telling her over and over again that if it was a girl, they were going to name her Kathleen.

Kit and David actually held hands at one point in the evening, as Eric sat there telling the proud grandparents about plans to honeymoon in Italy, because it was Faith’s favorite place on earth.

Eric was personable and attractive. His hair was very dark and thick and he wore what most young city men wore, black shirt, slacks and jacket, and boots that made him almost as tall as Faith. He seemed drawn toward David in that manly way that men find each other interesting. Susie divined that he didn’t know about Faith’s birth, that her biological father had actually screwed her biological mother out of revenge, and now, here they were, David and Kit, sitting together, arm and arm, as if they were the perfect long-term couple and had always been deeply committed to one another, and could probably write their own book on ‘making a marriage work.’

Vivian was quiet all evening, making small talk with Eric whenever she got the chance, and Ned was chatty with Faith. Susie heard him talking about his ex-wife, Deidre, and how excited she was about working in France, and going on to Nigeria. Susie got out the bottle of Champagne that Drew always liked to have around just in case there was something to celebrate. She served them all frozen hors-d’oeuvres, which actually turned out quite well. Susie smiled, knowing how Drew would have reacted to that. He once said he’d rather eat Kennel Ration than frozen food.

The thought made Susie nostalgic for the way life used to be before she decided that being ridiculously reckless was more important than being safe. The puppy picked up his head, as if he could hear the volume of her thoughts, and surveyed the room, making sure his mistress was fine and dandy. Susie went to the bed and kissed the back of his soft white head. She thought of Drew again and felt herself on the verge of another crying jag. Vivian had insisted she hop a plane and surprise him, but Susie knew he hated her, hated her for betraying him. She wouldn’t have been able to bear the rejection again.

God, there was so much betrayal in the world. Is there any one person we never hurt? Certainly that possibility couldn’t be found among her old friends. How could they all sit in the same room that evening, knowing that over the years they had each fucked with the other?

Still, they cared, and they went on caring, each of them surrounding Vivian with a huge bear hug after Eric and Faith left, a hug that went on for at least a half hour or more. Perhaps, it was the Champagne; perhaps, it was the old feelings. Perhaps it was news of the baby. Well, whatever it was, it felt terrific. It felt like nothing she’d felt in years.

There in the center of the circle of their arms, Vivian cried, and they held her more tightly. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Vivian kept repeating in a voice so soft and childlike.

Susie heard each of them respond in their own way, with their own sweet forgiveness.

“I love you, Viv,” Kit uttered, probably delirious over Faith’s news of a baby, being there for Vivian after so many years, despite her anger.

“It’s all right. It’s all right.” David was soothing, kept stroking Vivian’s hair.

When you’re down and troubled … Ned was rocking all of them, singing the old James Taylor hit. The song made Susie cry and it set Kit off again, as well. Before they knew it they were all singing I’ll come running…..you’ve got a friend. And after more hugs and squeezes, and after going through the song twice, they then went into a tearful rendition of Bridge Over Troubled Water, swaying in each other’s arms, crying on each other’s shoulders.

They finally called it a night with long hugs and promises to keep in touch. Vivian and Susie stood in the doorway and they blew kisses to the others as they left. Susie had to admit; it was like being young again: like summer breezes, fierce promises made with all the passion of being young. Like believing again in the people who are there for you.

Suddenly, the puppy jumped from the bed and ran down the stairs. Susie listened closely, but didn’t hear a peep. “Don’t pee on my rug, Elvis,” she called.

She sat up and looked at the moon, full and so white it appeared perfectly capable of magic.

The puppy barked. “Shit,” Susie got up and went to the landing. “Shut up, Elvis,” she called out in a loud whisper. She heard the door open and close, and wondered if Vivian had decided to take a midnight walk. “That you, Viv?” she called.

Susie’s heart beat quickly. She tried to remember if she had locked the door.

“Who’s there?” she yelled. She remembered that Vivian had been too tired for a midnight walk, too strung out. She was probably fast asleep.

“It’s me,” she heard, a male voice.

Her feet couldn’t travel fast enough. Breathlessly, she stopped at the landing.

Drew stood inside the living room. He was on his knees while Elvis stood on his haunches and licked his cheek.

“Drew?” she whispered.

“Who’s this?” he asked as he turned to her.

“Elvis,” she said.

“Is he ours?”

Susie nodded her head slowly. She felt the tears fall.

“I missed my girl,” he said, his voice breaking. “I can’t hold on to this anymore.”

She went into his arms.

“He’ll like Savannah,” he said as he hugged the puppy close.

“So will I, my darling,” Susie whispered. “So will I.”

 

​

​Chapter Fifty-Four

DAVID

2008

Ned dropped David off at Grand Central Station. David bought a ticket home. He sat at the bar for a quick glass of wine and looked around the magnificent structure, the quiet swirl of tired suburbanites making their way back to places like New Rochelle, Putnam and Pleasant Valley, hardly noticing the beauty and the history of their surroundings.

So, he had lived long enough to be a grandfather. Funny, how it felt ― different from what he might have imagined ― more like a second chance, like one prideful moment that would last a lifetime.

He thought of them all, his theater friends, each so damn wounded, each so near a healing he could taste their new skin. He thought of all the open tomorrows they promised to fill, all the new loyalties they vowed to respect. And then, there was Faith, much lighter than any of them, and yet, more solid. The feisty five had known their days of passion. Their mangled psyches once tormented by so much drama — melodramas that had finally given way to children, modern technologies, enormous responsibilities, the deaths of too many nice guys, and the emergence of a world they’d created for people like Faith.

“Time to move on,” he whispered and boarded his train.

The taxi turned up Salamander Drive. The streets were deserted and dark. David was slumped down in the back of the cab, his shoulders still raw and his head still achy. He reached in his inside pocket for his wallet as the taxi moved close to his store, and stopped just shy of his doorway. He looked up. It was then he noticed that the lights in his small apartment were on. He sat forward. Silhouetted in his window was the image of a woman; her eyes, he surmised, were on the street below, and her heart, he knew, was welcoming.

“Lauren?” he whispered as he ran breathlessly up the stairs.

She grimaced when she saw his appearance. “Ouch,” she said.

He fell to his knees. “Lauren?”

“I hope you don’t mind, I put the boys to bed in the bedroom and used the key you gave Faith.” She laughed. “I was hoping you’d be alone. If you weren’t, I don’t know what I would have done.”

He looked up at her. “I am terribly alone.”

“I have missed you,” she whispered as she came to him, placing her hands through his hair. “Oh, David, I want to be with you,” she said as she knelt beside him. “That's the conclusion I’ve come to. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long.”

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Do you understand why I had to take the time?”

“She was a victim of child abuse. I never knew. I’m so sorry,” he whispered as he moved the hair from her eyes.

“I was angry that you didn’t raise her, angry that Faith was subjected to Josh. I had to come to terms with it, had to forgive you for it. I had to try and understand.”

“Please don’t leave me again,” he whispered.

“Never,” she whispered back, as she unbuttoned his shirt. They fell to the floor, gently consumed by something so much greater than the quick, but nonetheless, intense release of their passion.