Page 32 of Such a Good Wife

But I can’t. I need to protect my family. They can never know that I knew Luke Ellison.

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13

WHEN I PULL INTO the garage at home, I can already hear Ben inside, I know he is in mid-meltdown over something. I sit in the car a few minutes and study my face in the rearview mirror. I use my sleeve to wipe away the smear of mascara under my eyes and take a few deep breaths, telling myself to act normal, think of your family. When I come in through the garage and follow the wails to the living room, I see Collin holding Ben, who is slumped over in his lap, crying, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Daddy,” over and over. This is not an unfamiliar scene. Sometimes, when Ben gets violent, he becomes tearful and repentant when he realizes he’s hurt someone. Collin gives me a look, saying it’s under control.

“Hey, bud. You okay?” I ask Ben.

He runs to me and puts his arms around my waist, still saying he’s sorry.

“It’s okay, bud,” Collin says. “Why don’t you go brush your teeth and put your pajamas on.”

“Okay,” Ben sobs, and runs off to his room.

“What happened?” I ask, seeing the cut on Collin’s lip.

“He got frustrated with a math question.”

“Oh no, you okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. A kid in his class called him dumb, so he was determined to work out the problem himself and...yeah. Didn’t go well.”

“Oh, honey...”

“It’s okay, I handled it. He’s fine. What happened to you? You look...Mel, you look terrible, no offense. Have you been...crying?”

“I’m fine now. Lacy is going through a rough time. The things that Joe is getting away with, what he’s done to her. It’s eating me up. I wish I could do something. Sometimes you just need a good cry. It’s beyond infuriating, ya know.”

“Do you want me to do anything—talk to Joe, or...”

“No! No, I promised. I just—we don’t need to talk about it. I’m exhausted.”

“Me too.”

“Thanks for taking care of things tonight,” I say. Collin comes over and gives me a kiss on the cheek and a hug.

“Of course. You hungry?” he asks, and I suddenly remember the condom, wrapped in a tissue, in my pocket. I back away from him, terrified that somehow he’ll feel a bulge or slip his hands into my back pockets the way he does sometimes, sweetly, to keep me close after a hug.

“I’m just really tired. I’m gonna run a bath.”

I put my purse down and dig in it a moment, to look like I backed away abruptly for a reason, that I’m looking for something. He doesn’t notice. It’s just me being paranoid. He just walks to the kitchen.

“Okay, I’ll bring you a glass of wine.”

“I’m sure you could use one yourself after all that,” I say, attempting lightness.

“Oh yes.”

He smiles and I see him grab a bottle from the rack and dig in the drawer for an opener. Out of his sight line, I rush into the bathroom and run the water for a bath. I take the condom from my pocket and flush it down the toilet. I sit with my head between my knees at the edge of the tub while steam rises from the scorching hot water. I have to keep it together.

Collin gives the door a light tap before coming in to lay a glass of red on the bathtub ledge for me. I used Ben’s bubblegum-scented bubble bath and it’s filled the room with a candy smell. He makes a scrunched-up face when it hits him.

“Cabernet and bubblegum. Delicious.”

He kisses me on the forehead. I force a little laugh at his joke.

“I’m gonna catch the end of the Saints game.”

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