Read Online His Other Wife by Deborah Bradford - Free Book Online Page B

Remy’s father
     and Emily’s parents and grandmother. The small talk continued until the women’s choir filed onto the bleachers and sang “Graduation
     (Friends Forever),” a song from the band Vitamin C.
    “Pomp and Circumstance” began and then came the graduates, two by two, the boys in black and the girls in white, their caps
     angled in every direction, their tassels dangling. A small uproar began each time a new face appeared in the aisle. Cheers
     and flashbulbs erupted simultaneously. Everything moved in slow motion until Hilary found her son. Suddenly here came Seth,
     moving toward them with Emily at his side, tilting his head to make sure Hilary knew he’d found his family in the crowd. How
     proud she was of him; he’d been waiting so long for this moment! Hilary found herself shouting his name with all the others,
     standing on tiptoe to see as much of him as she could, as the music played and he mounted the steps to the stage.
    The student-body president spoke and an orchestra ensemble played something that made Hilary and Eric glance at each other
     because it was a little out of tune. The jokes from T. J. Williams, the class clown, seemed ridiculously funny. He talked
     a lot about picturing all of them in their underwear — which was an overused topic — but he spoke with such a great throbbing
     Roman-speech voice and talked about envisioning everyone’s grandma in diapers so that he almost toppled everyone off their
     seats. Hilary glanced at her mother, halfway worried that she’d be offended by the irreverence. But Alva chuckled right along
     with the rest of them.
    Next came Seth’s speech, which Hilary hadn’t warned Eric about. Better to let him find things out as they came along. Hilary
     sat forward on the bench, so close to the edge that the seat bit into the back of her legs. Seth told a couple of stories
     about his friends; he reminded his audience how it felt to own a new box of crayons on the first day of kindergarten. He reminded
     them of the smell of the glue. He challenged them to look and see how far they had come, how far they had yet to go. He thanked
     Eric and Hilary for being his parents. He thanked his grandparents for coming to graduation. He thanked Hilary for always
     being there for him, Hilary only. He didn’t thank Eric for this.
    Hilary swallowed and her throat felt full of needles. She hadn’t realized she’d be so nervous for her son. He’d done an amazing
     job up there behind the microphone. Still, she felt Eric sitting stiffly at her side. She spoke quickly to cover the obvious
     omission in Seth’s speech: “Good job, huh? He did great, didn’t he?”
    If she hadn’t felt self-conscious about Seth’s speech, she might have reached for Eric’s hand. How good it might have felt
     to hold on to something of their past while they celebrated their son’s future. She couldn’t erase those years between them
     when they had a son standing there, no matter how hard she tried, no matter if it was awkward because they weren’t together
     anymore.
    Not until the Teacher of the Year began speaking did Hilary realize that she’d forgotten Pam. Mr. Schuster addressed the kids
     first, told them how much they’d meant to him, what a challenge and a source of pleasure it had been to instruct them. He
     encouraged them to do their best in the future, to work hard and play hard, to seek happiness, to be kind to others and to
     themselves. Then the honored gentleman finally turned his attention to the audience.
    “I don’t care what else might be going on in your life,” Mr. Schuster said. “I don’t care what else you’re proud of, or what
     else you’re fighting for, or what else you might be thinking about at the moment.” He gestured toward the young adults onstage.
     “I want you to know that, when you look up here, you are looking at your greatest accomplishment.”
    The speaker had Hilary from the beginning. Everything he said gave