Page 76 of The Next Wife

“I’ll be fine,” I say and unmute the phone.

“Oh, Chief, Ashlyn thinks a boy she broke up with might have done it. We’re not going to press any charges. He feels terrible I’m sure,” I say.

Ashlyn shrugs but goes along with me. “That’s right, Mom.”

“Well, you all let me know if you change your mind. You’ve had a lot to handle, Mrs.Nelson. Call me if you need me,” he says and hangs up.

Ashlyn stares at me.

“I’ve got this. Don’t worry.” I give her a hug. “I’m going to go visit your dad’s grave, if you want to join me. I haven’t been there yet, and I need closure.” I don’t even know where Tish put him. I still cannot believe he isn’t in the family plot as we planned. I clench my fists. It can wait, but it needs to be done, if for optics only.

Ashlyn shakes her head. “I’m not ready to do that. It’s weird. I’m mad at Dad right now. Really mad at him for falling for Tish. And what he did to you.”

“I understand. I do. Feeling angry is completely normal, honey,” I say. “I’ll be home by eight. And I’ll drive you to the airport. I love you.”

“Come home after the cemetery, OK? We’ll go to Tish’s house together tonight.”

I lean forward against my car. “There’s nothing to worry about. Everything is under control. And I’ll handle her myself. Do you need a ride home?”

“No, thanks, Seth’s on his way. Don’t go there without me. Promise?”

I shrug and smile. “Sure.”

But I’m lying. I will visit Tish alone.

As I slip into my car, I remember the last time I saw John. He needed me, again. He was growing tired of Tish’s lack of depth, her attachment to material things, her refusal to read. Anything. John and I, at our last secret rendezvous before the IPO, before she yanked him to Colorado, were both making fun of his wife. We sat at our favorite restaurant downtown, joking about our clandestine get-together.

I’d spotted him in his favorite back booth and waved as I made my way to him. “Hey. Is the coast clear?”

He stood up and touched my shoulder. “Good to see you, Kate, or should I say, Mabel? And yes, the coast is clear. Although I do feel a little terrible about it, the sneaking around.”

I slid into the booth. I said, “She made us do it. She’s the one who insists I call her to speak to you. It’s crazy. That’s no way to do business.”

“Or anything else. I know. She’s over-the-top jealous of you. Of your career, your success. Everything. She comes from a very different place than you and I did. She had a really tough childhood. I don’t have many specifics. I only know that she was poor and her mom was neglectful, but I’m starting to believe it was even worse than she lets on. Tish has a really violent temper just beneath the surface. I’m not used to that. You were always so calm, so understanding.”

I remember thinking,How nice. I was so considerate you decided to leave me. I said, “We built everything we have. It wasn’t easy for us, either. She has it really good now, but she’s acting like a toddler having daily temper tantrums,” I said, grabbing the menu before I said anymore. I wanted to keep our line of communication open, the relationship growing again. “I’m starving. You?”

“Yes. Lately, my blood pressure medicine makes me famished. I’m just feeling off. It’ll be good to get this IPO out of the way and deal with other things. I want to be happy again, Katie.” John kept his eyes on the menu.

And that’s when I knew. He would get the IPO done, and then he’d get rid of Tish.

“What will make you happy again?”

“I don’t know exactly. It’s exhausting. I understand why it frustrates you, just trying to get business done. I’m sort of sick of the whole situation, too. She’s always glancing at my phone, trying to see my messages. It’s funny you need a special name just to talk to me. Funny, and sad. I think she’s figured out Mabel is you, by the way. I’m tired of all of it. I miss this. Us.” John pushed a hand through his hair before waving for the waiter.

As for me, I spent the rest of our lunch relishing the notion that Tish’s time, Tish’s hold over our family, was coming to an end.

I was wrong then, but I’m not now.

I turn onto the road to the cemetery with mixed feelings. I do want to visit John’s grave. For many reasons, not the least of it is the sense of finality it should provide. The resolve, too. As I drive, I remember something I read about the positive effects of anger. Angry people have a lot in common with happy people. Both tend to be more optimistic. It’s true. Take, for example, one study of the aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. In the study, those experiencing anger expected fewer attacks in the future. I feel certain seeing John’s headstone will have the same effect.

It’s likely not a wise move to meet with Tish alone, to try to strike a deal. But it is what I need. What my company needs. I’ll write up a proposal she can’t refuse.

After a quick stop at the caretaker’s cottage, I have a map, John’s burial site marked with anX. It’s a quick drive to the rolling green hills of the cremated burial area. The nerve. I find John’s simple headstone, a plain marker for an exceptional man, a man who was led astray by a younger version of his wife and suffered the consequences. Yes, a cliché. But my cliché. I take a photo, just to remember this spot. To remember my resolve.

I touch the cold white stone. “John. I’m going to make this right. I’m sorry for everything she did to you, to me, to Ashlyn. But don’t worry. She’ll be gone soon. I promise.”

I bow my head and say a few more words I know John would want to hear.

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