The Deep End by Joy Fielding Read Free Book Online Page A

chuckle in her voice becoming a sudden gasp of pain, her body caving inward against the kitchen table.
    “What’s the matter?” Joanne and Eve’s mother asked together, the two women instantly at her side.
    “Where does it hurt?” Eve’s mother demanded, though her voice was weak and her hands shook.
    “It’s all right now. The pain’s gone.” Eve straightened her shoulders and sat back in her chair. “Stop worrying—it wasn’t that bad.”
    “It
was
that bad. Look at you—you’re as white as a ghost.”
    “I’m always as white as a ghost. You’re the one who keeps telling me to wear more makeup.”
    “Maybe you
should
see the doctor,” Joanne urged, trying to sound casual. “What can it hurt to have a few more tests?”
    Eve’s eyes moved from her mother to her oldest and closest friend.
    “All right,” she agreed after a lengthy pause.
    “Sure,” her mother pounced. “For her, you’ll go. When I ask you, what kind of answer do I get?”
    “I said I’d go, Mother. Isn’t that what you want?”
    Mrs. Cameron immediately turned her attention to Joanne. “How are your daughters?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject and almost managing to sound interested.
    “They’re good kids,” Joanne smiled. “Like Eve.”
    Eve laughed. Her mother did not. “Sure, stick together like you always have. You tell me—am I wrong to be concerned because my daughter has to be rushed to the hospital by her husband, who we all know is not exactly an alarmist? If anything, he doesn’t pay
enough
attention to Eve.”
    “Mother …”
    “Yes, I know, it’s none of my business. Do your daughters tell you that things that concern them are none of your business?”
    “Mrs. Cameron,” Joanne began, “if it’ll make you feel any better, I’ll take Eve to the doctor myself.” She turned back to Eve. “When’s your appointment?”
    “Friday morning.” She winked. “So we don’t miss our tennis lesson.”
    “Tennis,” her mother scoffed. “It’s too soon after the miscarriage to be playing tennis. That’s probably what brought on the pains in the first place.”
    “Oh, let’s not start that again,” Eve pleaded. “The miscarriage was six months ago, and I had one tennis lesson yesterday afternoon. Not even a private lesson, for heaven’s sake. I don’t think I have been exactly overexerting myself.”
    “You work too hard, you take too many extra classes, you do too much.”
    “I’m a teacher, Mother.”
    “A professor,” her mother corrected, looking at Joanne to check that the distinction was not lost. “A psychologist.”
    “A psychology professor, okay? A teacher. I don’t work too hard. I have Fridays off. I’m taking a few extra courses at night.”
    “What do you need more courses for? You’re forty years old. You need children, not Ph.D.’s. Am I wrong to want grandchildren?”
    “I don’t want to talk about this,” Eve said, banging down hard on the table. “You are making me crazy, Mother.”
    “Sure, blame the mother for everything. Tell me, Joanne, do your daughters say such things to you?”
    Joanne thought back to the previous afternoon, after Paul had packed his small suitcase and left her to confront her daughters’ confusion alone. “I’m sure we all say things to our mothers occasionally that we regret.”
    “Tell me,” Mrs. Cameron continued, “how’s your grandfather?”
    “He’s okay. I’m going to visit him this afternoon.”
    “Now, you see?” Eve’s mother asked. “This is a responsible girl. Nobody has to remind her to show proper respect for her elders.”
    Joanne rolled her eyes in her friend’s direction, and Eve stuck out her tongue in return.
    “Sure, make a joke. I’m going to watch television. Call me if you need anything. Nice seeing you, Joanne.” She was almost at the kitchen door when she turned back. “Talk to her, will you? Remind her that I won’t be around forever.”
    “Just long enough to drive me crazy,” Eve