Big Cherry Holler - Adriana Trigiani [93]
“Who’s the source?”
“Karen Bell’s best friend. Benita Hensley. The librarian up in Wise.”
“Great.”
“How’s Jack Mac treatin’ you?”
“Like a sister.”
“Not good.”
“Maybe it’s over, Iva Lou.”
“Don’t say that! Don’t ever say that! Y’all are true lovers! Look how long you waited to get together. Come on.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“You waited so long, to lose it all like this? Over what? Sex? What’s the matter with you? Don’t you care?”
“Iva Lou. Something happened to me.”
“A horrible thing. I know, honey. You’ve been betrayed. I feel turrible about it.” Iva Lou glops orange marmalade onto her toast.
“I mean something else.”
“What?” Iva Lou looks up. From my tone, she guesses it must be a man. “Have you fallen in love with someone new, is that what you’re sayin’?”
“No. I’m not in love. But he might be in love with me.”
“Who is he?”
I tell Iva Lou all about Pete Rutledge, all the stories, all the way through the kisses in the field of bluebells.
“Well, look. On one level it’s so goddamn romantic I can hardly take any more details. But you say you’re not in love with him. So why would you leave what you got?”
“I wouldn’t. I don’t know how to explain this, Iva Lou. I really don’t. But the love I have for Etta and for Joe sort of replaced the romantic love I had with Jack. And the love I have for my kids is more important to me than the love I have for Jack or the lust I had for Pete. Or any man who might come along. I’m not proud to admit it. I know I’m supposed to put my husband first, and then from there, from what’s supposedly the center of everything, comes your love for the kids. But I realized when Joe got sick that things had changed between Jack and me as soon as Etta was born. She replaced him as the love of my life. And then when Joe came, I was thrilled that I could give Etta a brother and Jack a son, but I also knew that there was no question: Jack was number three. For sure. Behind Etta and Joe, my new true loves.”
“Oh, you’re all confused.” Iva Lou rifles through her purse and finds her cigarettes. “You know, I quit.” She grips a cigarette between her lips and urges me to continue as she flicks the lighter.
“I don’t mean to make this sound complicated.”
“Honey-o, that ain’t right. It’s two different kinds of love. One is not more important than the other. They’re different. Love for your husband is about you. Love for your kids is about them.”
“I know. It goes against everything I believe. But don’t you think Jack knows that he’s number three? He’s not stupid.”
“No, he’s not. That’s the first true thing you’ve said all the mornin’.”
“I’m not even mad at him. What’s the matter with me?”
“That’s just a defense. You’re giving up because you’re afraid you’ll lose him altogether.”
“We don’t have anything to talk about anymore.”
“Do you talk about Joe?”
“No.”
“There’s your problem. It’s all you two are thinking about, and no one’s saying anything about it. You’re blaming him. He didn’t give Joe the cancer.”
“No, but he didn’t save him either, did he?” I can’t believe I said it. I’ve only ever thought it, I’ve never admitted it out loud.
“Ave, you listen to me. Jack couldn’t save Joe. No one could.”
“But—”
“But nothin’. You stop this. You’re killin’ your marriage with blame. And you’re holding on to bad feelings that have no place in the present.”
“I know.” Iva Lou is right.
“What’s your plan?” She looks at me. “ ’Cause, honey, I guaran-damn-tee you that Karen Bell has got a plan. What’s your plan?”
CHAPTER TEN
Fleeta, who swore she’d have nothing to do with the Soda Fountain, now stays late and bakes the desserts. And they’re not simple ones, either. Pearl bought those aluminum cake stands with the glass domes to show off Fleeta’s red velvet cake, her pecan and cinnamon pound cake drizzled with glaze and topped with crunchy sugar-dipped walnuts, and her mile-high chocolate cake with white butter-cream frosting. (“The secret to that one is the cup of strong coffee instead of cold water in the batter,” Fleeta told me.) There is a SPECIALS!