The last secret_ a novel - Mary McGarry Morris [53]
“It might help here, Ken, if you can give us some sense of where you're headed, pull it together a little more. Not just your disappointment, but your family's, the whole dynamic after that summer,” Dr. Martelli says.
That summer? So, this is a prearranged script, she realizes. Only problem is, as usual, Ken is all over the place, off-message, getting ahead of himself, forgetting the doctor's coaching, missing the prompts.
Ken is describing the summer after he graduated from college. He naturally expected to come home and work for the Chronicle as Oliver had done after graduating. But his father had other ideas for his younger, less motivated son. He wanted to take him out of his element. “I figured I'd throw him to the lions, then use what was left,” he said once of Ken's job in a Chicago paper's business office that he'd arranged through a friend. Ken would later describe the job as mind-numbing, a stint that made easily palatable Oliver's becoming publisher of the Chronicle. A master stroke on Mr. Hammond's part, Nora has always thought.
“Anyway Robin and I'd been going together all that time, ever since junior high school, really. So, naturally, I'm thinking she's part of the package, too. The future, Franklin, FairWinds, the Chronicle. I'd call and she'd say how nice Bob was, taking her to a club or a movie, stuff like that, you know, places she wouldn't want to go alone. And I'm thinking, jeez, what a good buddy, taking care of Robin till I get back. Then I come home and the two of them're in deep, and I'm trying to pretend not to care: like, oh, well, what the hell, what're you gonna do. I mean, my two best friends. We grew up together. But I'll tell ya, it took me a long time to get over it.” His voice hoarsens. “A real long time.”
Silence. How long before someone speaks, she wonders, barely able to breathe in his wounded air. She's stunned. With all their troubles, this still saddens him?
The doctor's chair creaks. “But did you? Did you get over it?” He adjusts his glasses, and it's all she can do to keep from laughing— hysterically. What parallel life has she been living all this time?
“I thought I did.” Ken glances at her. “And that's part of what I meant by renewal, and your being such a breath of fresh air. Your energy. I really needed that then. To take my mind off it all.” With his smile, she feels the top of her head getting ready to explode. All these years, his palliative. Nothing more.
“I can't believe I'm doing this. Sitting here through your Miss Lonelyheart's confession. Do it in your own session then. Not when I'm here, for godsake.”
“No! I just want you to know, that's all. So you'll understand,” he implores.
She turns to him. “You can't be serious.” But he is, she sees. Perfectly, pathetically, brokenheartedly serious.
ill you please chew with your mouth shut?” Chloe growls.
“I can't. My nose is too stuffed,” Drew growls back.
“Like I really need the details.” She shades her eyes.
“See?” He puts the napkin to his nose, making a dry, honking sound as he tries to blow. “I have to breathe through my mouth.”
“You are so gross.”
“Yeah, right.” He stares at her.
They are eating dinner late tonight. Ken's favorite, pork chops and sauerkraut, so Nora tried to wait. But then he called and said they should start without him. His meeting is running late. Actually, his brother's meeting in Boston, so he drove Oliver in. Uneasiness in crowds is chief among Oliver's quirks, but driving in city traffic is right up there. How many other times has Ken used Oliver as an excuse? She can barely swallow. Is this another lie? Is he seeing her again? Excusing herself, she goes into the bathroom and turns on the exhaust fan. She dials her brother-in-law's number. Holding her breath, she counts the rings. If Oliver does answer, she'll call Ken and tell him not to bother coming home. This all-pervading suspicion, like living on quicksand. Better to end it. Better for everyone.
“Hi, Oll, it's me, Nora,” she says when his answering machine comes on. “Give me a call. Just a quick