His Other Wife by Deborah Bradford Page A

couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice. “He’s eighteen .”
    The rain had cleared, but the air was damp. A breeze ruffled the limbs outside the window. The sun, which had broken through
     the clouds, slanted across the carpet. A reflection of leaves danced on the coffee table. Hilary hadn’t meant to sound so
     sharp. She tried to soften the words a bit. “They had to finish the senior video. Then he went to work on his girlfriend’s
     bike.”
    “He has a girlfriend?” Ben asked, shifting in his seat.
    “Yes, he does.”
    “Daddy didn’t tell us he had a girlfriend,” Lily said.
    “I don’t think” — Hilary met Eric’s eyes —“that your dad knew.”
    Eric interrupted her. “Why did you let him go out with friends when we’ve come all this way to see him?”
    “They make a senior video every year. They’ll show it at commencement tomorrow.” Hilary kept her voice as even as iron. “It’s
     a big deal. It’s important , Eric.”
    “This is a disappointment to the kids,” Pam said.
    Only later, when Hilary called up memories of this day, would she realize that this was the moment she should have started
     to worry: these few sentences, this slight misunderstanding, how she had to explain to this family that they weren’t the center
     of Seth’s world. At the time, she’d taken it only as a slight offense (this was her domain and Eric and Pam were walking into
     it…the life she and Seth had managed to build together… their territory) when she ought to have recognized it as a red flag of danger. “I promised I’d call him the minute you got in.
     My mother’s going to be here in a few minutes, too.”
    Which made Eric flinch. Hilary enjoyed that. The last person he probably wanted to see was her mother.
    “Well, we’ve gotten in,” Pam reminded her. “Why haven’t you already called him?”
    “He’ll come home, Pam,” she said. “He wants to see everyone, too.” At that exact moment, Hilary’s Nokia rang with a download
     from The Fray , Seth’s distinctive ring. Hilary couldn’t resist a smile of satisfaction. That’s the way things happened with them; they
     usually stayed so in tune, it seemed like one of them always knew when the other was about to dial. Hilary touched the screen,
     feeling vindicated.
    “Hey, sweetie. What’s up?”
    In the background she could hear about four different conversations, the grinding of an icemaker, the steady beat of hip-hop.
     “Is he there yet?”
    Only for a moment did Hilary’s mood darken, as she remembered the story Patty Winkler had told her. But now wasn’t the time
     to ask Seth about the essay, not with everyone standing there. “I have something to ask you about later.”
    “What is it? Mom, is something wrong?” He must have heard it in her voice.
    “We’ll talk about it when you get home, okay? And yes.” She glanced toward Eric. “Your dad’s here. They just got in.”
    The hesitation on the other end of the line made Hilary both surprised and alarmed. She’d given Seth pep talks when he’d been
     twelve and anxious about flying alone to California. But he’d always returned from L.A. with stories about the beach, carrying
     a new guilt gift from Eric, usually a skateboard or a new computer game, and talking about his baby sister. Maybe she’d been
     crazy, but Hilary thought Seth had accepted the situation over time.
    After a while, he’d stopped talking about it. To his friends and to his mother, he had remained warm and steadfast. He had
     become a great support to her; month by month her son’s presence had helped her grow stronger.
    Hilary wasn’t about to pursue the question right now. You lived through what you couldn’t change. And Eric had paused beside
     her momentarily, his shoulders squared, as if he might be suspecting some secret language passing between them in their conversation.
    So she fudged. “Are you at Emily’s?” she asked lightly.
    “Yep. Fixed her bike. Now there’s