Claire doodles on the pad of paper next to the phone. A heart. A spiral. A great, sweeping cursiveJ.
“The ladies at book club said that Jackie slept with Susan Wilson,” Claire says.
She’s not sure how she expects Theo to react, but an irritated groan was certainly not on her list. It’s long and loud and ends in a sort of shout that makes Claire jump.
“Christ. I fuckingtoldher,” Theo says. “Don’t get tangled up in the goddamn suburbs. Which one is Susan? You housewives all look the same to me.”
“Has there been more than one?” Claire squeaks.
Theo sighs. Claire hears something scratchy, like he’s rubbing his face but hasn’t shaved in a while. “That’s not my place to say. But it is my place to make sure Jackie doesn’t get given the run-around by some curious suburbanite who doesn’t care about her.”
“Idocare about her,” Claire says hotly. “Very much. She’s the one who walked away from our friendship.”
“And are you in love with her?”
Claire’s argument dies on her lips. No matter what she’s starting to suspect, saying it out loud is another thing entirely.
Theo makes an amused noise. “Right. How about attraction? You asked me what it felt like. Do you feel that for her, at least?”
“I…”
Theo keeps pushing. “What about your husband? How do you feel about him? Does he make you hot?”
“Hot?” Claire says faintly.
“Under the collar. In bed. Do you like kissing him? Fucking him? Does his touch get you hot, or do you lie back and think of England?” Theo says, either ignorant to or uncaring of Claire’s growing discomfort.
Claire can’t describe anything Pete does as making herhot. Lovemaking is a wife’s duty. She’s never exactly enjoyed it, but then she’s not meant to, is she? That’s for the husband to enjoy. It’s her job to make sure he’s satisfied.
But then, what about Claire’s dreams?
She doesn’t have them every night, but it’s often enough that she can’t put them out of her mind. Jackie is the only constant in them. Jackie in the pool, in the changing room, in the conversation pit, sitting on Claire’s bed. Claire usually loses the details when she wakes up, but they leave Claire sweaty and trembling when her alarm trills.
The warm, slick evidence she cleans up between her legs every morning—is that the kind ofhotthat Theo means?
Theo clicks his tongue. “Saying it out loud helps, trust me. Share with your favorite homosexual.”
“I…” Claire says. Her voice is dry and croaky. She closed her eyes tight, letting her forehead fall onto the table. “Theo, I don’t know what any of this is supposed to feel like.”
“Then you should figure it out before you try to involve Jackie. I’m not letting her get hurt again.”
Again.
Claire sits up straight. She’s struck by remembrance, now, of something she hadn’t connected before—the married man that Jackie loved. The one she’s been so broken up over. If Jackie really is like Theo, then maybe it wasn’t a man at all. It must have been awoman.
The beautiful blonde woman from the pictures on Jackie’s table rushes into Claire’s memory. The inscription Jackie had written—you and me against the world. Always.A sentiment for a lover, not a friend.
I’ll wait as long as you need me to.
They were pressed together so intimately in that photo. Claire didn’t think to look, but she’d bet a hundred dollars that if she had, there would have been a wedding ring on the woman’s finger. Just like Claire. Jackie promised to wait, but all her waiting ended in heartbreak.
“Valerie,” Claire says softly.
Theo makes a startled noise. “Now how in the hell do you know that name?”
“Oh, my word,” Claire breathes. There’s too much happening at the moment to bother with explanations. “I’m right, aren’t I? The person who broke her heart isn’t a man at all. It was Valerie.”
“Someone’s a little snoop.”
