Read Online The Wife, the Maid, and the Mistress by Ariel Lawhon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Ariel Lawhon
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swallowed. “It just surfaced. You know, the way thoughts do.”
Jude threw his knife and fork onto the plate, and they bounced, then fell to the floor, leaving a blotch of chutney on the tablecloth. “Don’t lie to me!”
His voice was a slap. She recoiled. “What?”
“Did he come to their apartment? Did he threaten you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Shit, Maria. Do you know what bad news that guy is? I could kill the Craters for putting you in the same room with him. And Owney for going anywhere near you.”
Maria yanked the bifana from the table and carried the platter back to the kitchen. Set it on the counter with trembling hands. “I have never seen you like this.”
Jude got up and stood behind her. “You gotta tell me if that guy’s been around.”
“You’re scaring me.” Maria placed her palm on the rosary where it hung between her breasts. Took a measured breath. “Why would I lie to you?”
He set his hands on her arms. Panic stretched his eyes wide. “You would if you thought it would protect me. I know you.”
“Is there something I need to protect you from?”
“It’s my job to protect, okay? Mine .” Jude loomed over her, shoulders rounded and the veins in his neck drawn tight with a frightening intensity. Maria stepped away, and he reached for her, imploring, but caught a fistful of blue rosary beads instead. Too eager, too desperate to make her understand, he yanked her toward him. The thin silver chain snapped in half, and beads went spinning across the floor, under furniture, against the walls. The crucifix dropped to her feet.
Fear and shame fought for control of his face. He trembled as he towered over her. “I’m sorry—”
She fell to her knees, scooping up the beads. She chased them acrossthe floor. When she counted them in her hand, over half were missing. Maria could not look at him. She cupped them in her palm.
“It was your grandmother’s,” Jude whispered.
Maria stumbled to her feet and moved toward the bedroom.
“I went to see Finn this afternoon,” Jude called as she reached for the knob.
It took a minute for Maria to register what he said, and then the atmosphere pitched sideways. “Since when do you go to confession?”
“I needed someone to talk to.” Jude sounded pained. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was a long, rotten day.”
In all the years they’d been married, Maria could not remember a single time that Jude had gone to see Father Finn Donnegal on his own. For the most part, he’d insisted on calling him by his first name—a liberty that the priest never seemed to mind. A patient man, Father Donnegal.
“What happened today?” She leaned forward a bit, expectant, hopeful that he’d tell her about those envelopes, about Owney, that he wouldn’t keep something of that magnitude from her.
He grabbed a handful of tousled hair and yanked. “Nothing … just … shit, Maria, it was just a bad day, okay?”
Maria stared at him with mournful brown eyes and then stepped into the bedroom and locked the door. She went to the bathroom and ran the tap so the rush of water would muffle Jude’s apology on the other side of the door. Maria climbed into the empty tub and held the broken rosary to her chest.
Chapter Five
BELGRADE LAKES, MAINE, SATURDAY, AUGUST 9, 1930
STELLA dove off the pier into shallow water. She knew better, really, but there was no feeling like the caress of water against her skin. With a quick arch of her back and three kicks, she came to the surface and then swam freestyle deeper into the lake. Fifty yards from shore, she rolled onto her back and floated, her arms drifting wide. A sky stripped bare of clouds, so blue it seemed bottomless, stretched above her. If only they would meet, sky and lake, and swallow her whole.
Her bathing suit was scandalous. A strapless number in blue and white checks with a satin belt and a skirt so short it didn’t fully cover her derriere. She’d bought it this
Jude threw his knife and fork onto the plate, and they bounced, then fell to the floor, leaving a blotch of chutney on the tablecloth. “Don’t lie to me!”
His voice was a slap. She recoiled. “What?”
“Did he come to their apartment? Did he threaten you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Shit, Maria. Do you know what bad news that guy is? I could kill the Craters for putting you in the same room with him. And Owney for going anywhere near you.”
Maria yanked the bifana from the table and carried the platter back to the kitchen. Set it on the counter with trembling hands. “I have never seen you like this.”
Jude got up and stood behind her. “You gotta tell me if that guy’s been around.”
“You’re scaring me.” Maria placed her palm on the rosary where it hung between her breasts. Took a measured breath. “Why would I lie to you?”
He set his hands on her arms. Panic stretched his eyes wide. “You would if you thought it would protect me. I know you.”
“Is there something I need to protect you from?”
“It’s my job to protect, okay? Mine .” Jude loomed over her, shoulders rounded and the veins in his neck drawn tight with a frightening intensity. Maria stepped away, and he reached for her, imploring, but caught a fistful of blue rosary beads instead. Too eager, too desperate to make her understand, he yanked her toward him. The thin silver chain snapped in half, and beads went spinning across the floor, under furniture, against the walls. The crucifix dropped to her feet.
Fear and shame fought for control of his face. He trembled as he towered over her. “I’m sorry—”
She fell to her knees, scooping up the beads. She chased them acrossthe floor. When she counted them in her hand, over half were missing. Maria could not look at him. She cupped them in her palm.
“It was your grandmother’s,” Jude whispered.
Maria stumbled to her feet and moved toward the bedroom.
“I went to see Finn this afternoon,” Jude called as she reached for the knob.
It took a minute for Maria to register what he said, and then the atmosphere pitched sideways. “Since when do you go to confession?”
“I needed someone to talk to.” Jude sounded pained. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was a long, rotten day.”
In all the years they’d been married, Maria could not remember a single time that Jude had gone to see Father Finn Donnegal on his own. For the most part, he’d insisted on calling him by his first name—a liberty that the priest never seemed to mind. A patient man, Father Donnegal.
“What happened today?” She leaned forward a bit, expectant, hopeful that he’d tell her about those envelopes, about Owney, that he wouldn’t keep something of that magnitude from her.
He grabbed a handful of tousled hair and yanked. “Nothing … just … shit, Maria, it was just a bad day, okay?”
Maria stared at him with mournful brown eyes and then stepped into the bedroom and locked the door. She went to the bathroom and ran the tap so the rush of water would muffle Jude’s apology on the other side of the door. Maria climbed into the empty tub and held the broken rosary to her chest.
Chapter Five
BELGRADE LAKES, MAINE, SATURDAY, AUGUST 9, 1930
STELLA dove off the pier into shallow water. She knew better, really, but there was no feeling like the caress of water against her skin. With a quick arch of her back and three kicks, she came to the surface and then swam freestyle deeper into the lake. Fifty yards from shore, she rolled onto her back and floated, her arms drifting wide. A sky stripped bare of clouds, so blue it seemed bottomless, stretched above her. If only they would meet, sky and lake, and swallow her whole.
Her bathing suit was scandalous. A strapless number in blue and white checks with a satin belt and a skirt so short it didn’t fully cover her derriere. She’d bought it this
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