His Other Wife by Deborah Bradford Read Free Book Online Page A

unravel. She couldn’t shake this uneasiness
     that followed her. She wondered, like all parents do, if her son could ever become someone she didn’t know.

    Driving the rental car in from O’Hare, Eric couldn’t help but compare his Chicago birthplace to the gleaming, sunlit freeways
     he’d just left in L.A. Where the California breezes seemed to always be sweeping the clouds out to sea, the Illinois horizon
     seemed to always be tainted by them, greenish gray and ominous even this time of year, roiling overhead like the seaweed that
     littered the lakeshore.
    In L.A., everything glittered. The bright light could leave a person dazed. Churches made of glass throbbing in the sun. Gleaming
     ribbons of road leading from the latest open-air shopping promenade to the megaplex theater. And the surprise of palm trees
     arrowing into the sky.
    Everything in Chicago was gritty, built from bricks or huge blocks of quarried limestone, two centuries of determination woven
     throughout the deep roots of hackberry, maples, ironwood trees.
    Today Eric couldn’t help but feel like he might be returning to a place inside himself that he didn’t want to see.
    “Don’t miss your exit,” Pam was saying, navigating from the road map even though they’d paid extra for a GPS unit at the rental
     counter. “You’ll take the next one to get to the house.” Then, “Lily, stop bothering your brother. Leave his basketball alone.”
    “Mom, it’s taking up my whole seat.”
    “In fifty feet, exit to the right,” said the GPS navigator. By the way Pamela had insisted on renting the navigation system,
     you’d think she had forgotten how well he knew this city. And maybe he didn’t blame her so much, considering. Except for a
     couple of stilted visits to his family’s place at Christmastime, Eric had been perfectly willing to pay for Seth’s commute
     to LAX so they could have their regular schedule of visitation suggested by the court. Eric told himself that he’d been totally
     satisfied to see his son bounding out of the Jetway with a stewardess in tow and the plastic tags around his neck to show
     he was a minor traveling alone.
    Eric felt like he’d been gone from this place a long time.
    He felt like he’d left only yesterday.
    “At the next intersection, turn left,” the navigator said.
    Had he subconsciously let the novelty of Disneyland and the beach and the Santa Clarita skate park fill up his and Seth’s
     time so Eric, too, wouldn’t have to think of what he’d left behind him? Had he relied on an amusement park to make up for
     their stilted conversations? The dashing waves to fill silences that might have contained questions from his son: Don’t you love Mom anymore, Dad? Why did you decide to leave us? Questions that Eric didn’t want to answer.
    You’re handling this so well , Eric always said instead of answering him. You’re growing up so fast. You’re so strong about what’s happened between your mom and me. It makes me proud of you.
    Now, in the car, Pam laid a hand on Eric’s knee as if she knew what he was thinking. “We’ll get through it, Eric. Everything’s
     going to be okay.”
    He turned and smiled at her. “Yes. It will.”
    “It’s his graduation. We’ll be glad we did this.”
    He breathed deep and tried to relax his shoulders. It didn’t work.
    She reached across and massaged his neck. “It’s understandable, you being so tense. Don’t apologize.”
    “Are you tense? How come?” Ben bounced his basketball against the seat in front of him.
    “No.”
    “Are we there yet?” Lily asked.
    “You two stop asking questions,” Pam said. “Ben. Hold the ball still or you won’t get to bring it next time. Lily, your dad
     is trying to drive.”
    A bell rang. The navigation system told him to take a “slight right.” He was passing landmarks he recognized, a day-care center
     Seth had once attended, a pizza place he and Seth had once frequented after Cubs games.
    That