Dom grinned at me. “You gotta say yes, Hershey. You got that soft, gooey center.”
Everybody laughed, including me, then I looked down at Jack.
Jack looked up at me.
We both knew the answer.
Jack knew it first.
Chapter Seventy-Three
After Dom and Flossie left, Lucinda and I started cleaning the kitchen, falling into our standard division of labor. I cleared the table and scraped scraps into the trash. She rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. We both knew each other’s moves, but our rhythms were off. I picked up a plate of cheese, bumping into her on the way to the sink.
“Sorry,” I said, realizing it was the first time I had physically touched her since the rowhouse, and that kiss, earlier. I wondered where the wow had gone. I didn’t know if it would come back.
“Here, I’ll take that.” Lucinda held out her hand for the plate without making eye contact, and I handed it to her, turning away.
Ethan sat cross-legged on the floor, playing with Jack and Moonie, who really liked each other. “We need to get some dog toys.”
“Good idea.” Lucinda rinsed a plate.
“Yes, it is,” I said, a fraction of a second later. I picked up another plate, and the only sound was Ethan talking to the dogs. I couldn’t remember the last time we had been so silent in the kitchen. It was usually the time we caught each other up on our day, so I tried to go back to that routine, like a factory default setting for a marriage.
“Lucinda, did you watch the press conference?”
“Yes.”
“How was it?”
“What you thought, no surprises. Dom said they say the same thing every time.”
“Right, he said that to me too.”
“They said nice things about you, which was good. They made it clear you hadn’t killed us.”
“Oh good.” I managed a smile. “Low bar.”
“I went online and got back in touch with everybody, and of course we’re blowing up on social. Facebook comments, lots of talk about us on Instagram.”
“Oh?” I threw the dirty napkins in the trash. “Good or bad?”
“Good, so that was nice. Wishing us well, sending prayers, all that. So many nice things about Allison. It was lovely. Lots of the moms, a lot of parents from school. Neighbors. Even our UPS guy.” Lucinda put the plate in the dishwasher. “I responded to as many as I could, then Dom came with Flossie and Moonie. He wanted to surprise us.”
“He did.”
“Flossie seems really nice.”
“She is.”
Ethan looked up. “Mom, what about Zack’s parents? Did they say anything?”
“Yes, that they’re happy to hear we’re okay.” Lucinda put another plate in the dishwasher. “Mr. Sullivan posted something very nice about you. They can’t wait to see you.”
I picked up the silverware. “How about Mom? Did you get in touch with her or what?”
“Back on track, thank God.” Lucinda brightened. “I talked to her on the phone, no FaceTime, but she sounded good. She’s not following the news and they’re not going to put it in front of her, so that’s good.”
“That’s good,” I said, realizing I was echoing her. Everything was nice and good. I didn’t know when we started talking like preschoolers.
“I talked to the supervisor, who’s new. The mean nurse has already been let go. You know, the one who took her lavender lotion.”
“Did they get the lotion back?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Nice.” The kitchen fell silent except for the clatter of dishes and Ethan’s baby talk to the dogs. I put the last plate on the counter, then plastered on a smile. “I’m going to go take a shower.”
“Okay,” Lucinda said, closing the dishwasher.
Ethan looked up. “Are you guys going to get a divorce?”
Lucinda recoiled, her lips parting slightly. The faucet was running behind her.
My chest tightened. I didn’t know if Ethan knew about Lucinda’s affair, but he was addressing me. His expression was pained, but his eyes remained dry. As anxious as he had been lately, my son looked oddly mature, the man inside the boy emerging, as if the future were testing the waters of the present.
“Dad, are you?”
I knew I had already made the decision. “No, of course not,” I answered.
“Good.” Ethan returned his attention to the dogs.
Lucinda met my eye, with a look I recognized.
We have to talk, it said.
Chapter Seventy-Four
I led Lucinda to the beach, instinctively wanting to have our talk away from the house. It turned out to be darker than I expected, the only light emanating from an ivory moon behind sheer clouds. The wind rippled a black bay, lapping against a beach that vanished to a hidden point. I couldn’t see Lucinda’s features clearly, but I knew them so well, from the curve of her cheekbone to the contour of her smile, absent now.
“Lucinda, I don’t want a divorce.”
“Do you love me?”
“Yes, of course,” I answered, my chest tight. “That’s not the problem. The problem is I don’t know how to forgive you. I think I can but, man, it’s hard, right now.”
“But you know you don’t want a divorce?”
“Right.”
Lucinda cocked her head. “Why not?”
“Is this a quiz?” I shot back, edgy. Because if it was, I hadn’t studied. I couldn’t show my work. I only knew the answer.
“No, it’s a discussion.”
“I love you, I love our family, and I can’t imagine doing that to Ethan, not after . . .” My throat caught, and I couldn’t finish the sentence. We had gone through so much, but we had lost Allison. Our hell wasn’t over, it was just beginning. I felt a wall of pain and hurt and anguish coming, as inevitably as a tide. “I mean, we lost our girl.”
“I know,” Lucinda said quietly, sniffling, and I found myself reaching for her hand. But she didn’t reach for mine.
“What?” I let my hand drop. I could see her lower lip trembling.
“I know I did something terribly wrong. I know I hurt you and I’m very sorry for that, but Ethan isn’t a reason for us to stay together.”
“Why not? I think he is. He needs us now. I mean, we all lost her.” My heart hurt when I said it out loud, anguished. “We lost her together.”
“I know that, too.” Lucinda cleared her throat. “But Allison isn’t a reason, either. Neither of our children is a reason for us to be together.”
“It’s not only the children. We’re a family. We make a family.”
“Not if you and me aren’t a couple, we don’t. I mean a real couple, a loving couple. A couple that should be together.” Lucinda’s hand fluttered to her cheek, wiping a tear away. “At the studio, I see families before I take their portrait, and I see the way they are, how they relate to each other. I see love when it’s there, sure, but I also see resentment, and hurt, and history.” She wiped away another tear. “Sometimes, after I finish the shoot, I have no idea why some couples stay together. I don’t want to be them, ever. I want to know why we’re together.”