Read Online Grand Avenue by Joy Fielding - Free Book Online Page A

rolling hills.
    “So, when are you going to tell us what’s going on?” Barbara asked Chris, managing to make the question sound casual, although the stiffening of her fingers on Chris’s hand gave her away.
    Chris felt her breath catch in her lungs. Even though she’d been expecting the question ever since climbing into the backseat of Vicki’s car, still its directness startled her. She’d been lulled into a false sense of security by the women’s laughter, by the easy familiarity of their shared confidences. “I don’t understand what you mean,” she said, the words sounding unconvincing even to herself. Barbara sat back, raised one eyebrow; Susan twisted around from the front passenger seat; Vicki’s eyes narrowed in the rearview mirror. All looked skeptical, concerned, even vaguely frightened. “What are you looking at?” Chris asked. “What’s thematter with everyone? There’s nothing going on. Honestly.”
    “We hardly see you anymore, you never return phone calls, you’re always busy—”
    “You know how it is,” Chris protested.
    “We don’t know.”
    “Tell us.”
    “There’s just a lot going on,” Chris said.
    “You just said there was nothing going on,” Vicki reminded her. “What?”
    “Which is it, Chris? You can’t have it both ways.”
    “Careful. You’re starting to sound like a lawyer.”
    “I’m your friend,” Vicki said simply.
    “Sorry,” Chris apologized. “It’s just that you’re all making a big deal over nothing.”
    “Are we?” Susan asked.
    “Are you angry at us?” Barbara asked. “Did we say anything, do anything to offend you?”
    “Of course not.”
    “Then why don’t we see you anymore?”
    “It’s just that things have been a little hectic lately, that’s all,” Chris insisted. “Wyatt’s sick all the time, he seems to pick up every bug out there. Well, you know how kids are—they’re these little incubators for disease. So first he gets sick, and then I get sick. Except it takes me longer to recover. And then I have all this catching up to do around the house.”
    “So why’d you fire the cleaning lady?” Barbara asked.
    “You fired Marsha?” Susan asked, referring to the woman whose services they all shared.
    “Tony wasn’t happy with the job she was doing,” Chris tried to explain, “and I’m home all day. There’s no reason I can’t do it.”
    “Do you
like
doing it?” Vicki asked, as if this thought were beyond her comprehension.
    “I don’t mind,” Chris said. “Really. I don’t.”
    “You’re not getting agoraphobic, are you?” Susan’s voice was low, her eyes wide.
    “What’s
agoraphobic?”
Barbara asked.
    “Technically, it’s a fear of the marketplace,” Susan explained.
    “I hate the marketplace,” Vicki interjected.
    “It means being afraid to leave your house.”
    “I’m not afraid to leave the house.”
    “You seemed afraid this afternoon.”
    “Is everything all right with Tony?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Are you two getting along okay?” Barbara asked.
    “Of course. We’re fine. I mean, it’s been a little tense lately because Tony’s not very happy with his job, and I think he lost a lot of money in the stock market.”
    “You think?” Susan asked. “You don’t know?”
    Chris shook her head. “You know how hopeless I am about money.”
    “Since when?”
    “You have your own bank account, don’t you?” Vicki asked.
    “We have a joint account. Why would I have my own account?”
    “Every woman should have her own account. Just in case. And at the first sign of trouble, she should start socking money away.”
    “But that’s so dishonest,” Chris protested.
    “No,” Vicki told her. “It’s self-preservation. Besides, you don’t want to have to go to Tony for every little thing. You don’t, do you? Go to Tony for every little thing?”
    “Of course not.” Chris felt her cheeks flush angry red. What business was it of Vicki’s how she and Tony handled their