Chương 3
“Shut up.”
“Tell me what?” I asked.
Nathan looked miserable.
Julian started walking toward the house.
I raised the microphone.
“Where are you going?”
He stopped without turning.
“To get dressed.”
“For what?”
He looked back at me then.
The contempt was gone.
So was the swagger.
What remained was exhaustion and something dangerously close to panic.
“Because,” he said, “if Nathan opens his mouth, you’re going to throw me out.”
Nobody moved.
I stared at the man whose birthday cake was waiting inside our refrigerator, whose name was written across it in blue icing by a bakery I had driven forty minutes to reach because he liked their chocolate ganache.
Then Nathan spoke without looking at his brother.
“He’s been working for me.”
Selina inhaled sharply.
I heard Mara say, “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
I looked at Nathan.
“For how long?”
He swallowed.
“Almost a year.”
The microphone slipped slightly in my damp hand.
Julian closed his eyes.
And suddenly the hidden bank account was no longer the question frightening me most.
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Nathan’s words seemed to hang over the patio longer than they should have.
For a moment, I could not connect them to anything practical.
Working for him meant a desk, a paycheck, meetings, a commute, lunch receipts, taxes, mornings with somewhere to be.
It meant all the ordinary machinery of employment Julian had spent nearly a year insisting did not exist.
I looked at Nathan.
“What does that mean?”
Nathan rubbed the back of his neck.
“It means exactly what it sounds like.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
My voice came out too sharp through the speakers.
Nathan winced.
I lowered the microphone away from my mouth.
“How long?”
He glanced at Julian.
Julian had turned toward the house again.
“Nathan.”
“Eleven months.”
The number matched the deposits.
Of course it did.
My body understood before my mind did, and my knees went oddly weak.
Mara reached up and touched my elbow.
I shook her off without meaning to.
“Doing what?”
Nathan’s eyes stayed on the concrete between us.
“Operations consulting.”
I laughed.
It was one short, ugly sound.
“Consulting.”
Julian turned back.
“Don’t.”
“That’s what I told people.”
“I know.”
“You told me to tell people that.”
“I know.”
“And it was true.”
Nobody around the pool moved.
Even the children had gone inside by then, shepherded away by people who suddenly understood that the party was no longer a party.
I stared at Julian.
“Why?”
He looked toward the crowd and then toward Nathan.
“Not here.”
I raised the microphone again.
“You started this here.”
Julian’s face tightened.
“I made a stupid joke.”
“You humiliated your wife in front of sixty people.”
Nathan’s voice surprised all of us.
Julian looked at him.
“You don’t get to take her side now.”
Nathan flinched as though the accusation had found its mark.
Selina stepped away from him.
That movement was small, but Nathan noticed.
He looked at her immediately.
“Sel.”
“No.”
She folded her arms.
“Don’t call me that right now.”
He exhaled.
Julian gave a humorless laugh.
“Congratulations, Claire.”
He gestured toward his brother and Selina.
“You’re blowing up two marriages tonight.”
I stared at him.
Something about that sentence cleared the fog.
“No.”
I stepped down from the DJ platform.
The microphone cord dragged behind me.
“You don’t get to put that on me.”
“I’m not putting anything on you.”
“You just did.”
Julian opened his hands.
“You’re the one holding a microphone.”
I looked down at it.
For a second, I hated the thing.
It made everything feel theatrical, when underneath the noise there was nothing theatrical about realizing your husband had watched you panic over money while he quietly built another life.
I handed it back to Mason.
“Turn the music on.”
Mason blinked.
“What?”
“Please.”
He looked around helplessly.
“Like, now?”
“Yes.”
He pressed something on the console.
A low instrumental track began, absurdly cheerful.
Nobody returned to their conversations.
That was worse than silence.
I walked toward the house.
Julian followed.
“Claire.”
I kept walking.
Mara came after us.
I stopped at the door.
“Not you.”
She stared at me.
“I’m not leaving you alone with him.”
“I need you to take my bag and go to Mom’s.”
“What?”
“The kids are there.”
“I know where the kids are.”
“Then go there.”
Mara looked past me at Julian.
He had stopped several feet away.
“Claire, he’s been lying to you for a year.”
“I know.”
“I’m not saying that to be cruel.”
“I know.”
My voice cracked on the second word.
That frightened me more than crying would have.
Mara’s expression softened.
“I’ll go.”
She held out her hand.
“Your bag?”
“In the kitchen.”
She nodded and walked past me.
Julian waited until she was gone.
Then he said, “Thank you.”
I turned.
“For what?”
“For not letting your sister turn this into—”
I slapped him.
The sound was not especially loud.
It was not cinematic.
My palm stung immediately, and I hated myself before he even touched his cheek.
Julian stared at me.
I stared back.
“I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No.”
“You shouldn’t have done any of this either.”
He lowered his hand.
“You think I don’t know that?”
“I don’t know what you know anymore.”
The kitchen behind us smelled like grilled onions and frosting.
Somebody had left the sliding door open, and flies had already found the bowl of watermelon on the island.
I walked inside.
Julian followed and closed the door.
Through the glass, I could see people beginning to gather their things with exaggerated casualness.
No one knew whether they were supposed to say goodbye.
Aunt Deborah was wrapping a plate in foil.
One of Julian’s old coworkers was helping stack chairs.
Life was returning in awkward little pieces.
I stood at the kitchen island.
“Start with Nathan.”
Julian leaned against the refrigerator.
“What about him?”
“How did you end up working for him?”
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He rubbed his cheek once.
“He needed help.”
