Beautiful Day(68)
She sold it on eBay, Margot thought.
She said, “Why didn’t he ever tell you?”
“He wanted to protect me, he said! He didn’t think I needed to know, he said! He knew it was a mistake the second he asked Crissy, he said! He only proposed because she was nagging him, and so he asked her to get her to stop.”
Oh, dear, thought Margot.
“I’m sure he did want to protect you,” Margot said. “As someone who knows you nearly better than anyone else, I can say that you are a hard person to give bad news. You’re an idealist; you believe in the goodness of your fellow man beyond the point where the rest of us would have given up. Of course he didn’t want to tell you. Stuart has done nothing over the course of your entire relationship except try to make you happy. He bought a hybrid for you! He registered Democrat for you! Honey, trust me, this isn’t a deal breaker.”
Jenna sniffed.
“Jenna,” Margot said. “This isn’t a deal breaker.”
“The rest of Stuart’s family has always been so weird about Crissy,” Jenna said. “No one ever talks about her. There are family pictures in the Graham house with Crissy in them, but Ann cut out black ovals and pasted them over Crissy’s face!”
Margot couldn’t keep from smiling at this. She wondered if Drum’s mother, Greta, had covered her face with black ovals—say, in the photos of Drum Jr.’s christening.
“It’s not funny!” Jenna said. “We bumped into her once, at Newark airport. She was going one way on the moving sidewalk, and we were going the other way, and she called out Stuart’s name and he turned and I turned, and she flipped Stuart off. She gave him the finger! She was pretty—dark hair, pale skin, sort of Spanish looking—and I was like, Who was that and what was THAT all about? Who on earth would flip Stuart the bird? My wonderful, kind Stuart, the man everyone adores and admires? I said, ‘Um. Do you KNOW that girl? ’ He clearly didn’t want to tell me, but then he admitted it was Crissy. And I dragged him to the airport bar and we ordered margaritas and I demanded that he tell me what exactly had happened with Crissy. And all he would say was that in his mind he liked to pretend she had never existed.”
Margot nodded. If everyone told their stories about ex-boyfriends, ex-girlfriends, ex-fiancés, ex-fiancées, ex-husbands, or ex-wives—or those they had to cross paths with either physically or emotionally—there would be millions and millions of chapters. It was a fraught topic, put mildly.
“You’ve had serious relationships before,” Margot said. “What about Jason? You loved Jason. You basically gave yourself an eating disorder and put yourself in the student infirmary because of Jason. Have you ever admitted that to Stuart?”
“I didn’t have an eating disorder,” Jenna said.
“When he broke up with you the first time, you went on a hunger strike!” Margot said. “Do I have to wake up Autumn to corroborate? You lived on toast and vodka.”
“Ever since Stuart proposed, you’ve been urging me to reconsider,” Jenna said. “You told me everyone gets divorced. You told me that love dies.” Jenna blinked, tears fell. Her makeup was a mess; there were black smudges on the skirt of her peach dress. She had been using her dress as a Kleenex. “And you’re right! Love does die, people do change, everyone is unfaithful, vows do get broken, betrayal is real. Stuart Graham, who I thought was beyond reproach, lied to me about being engaged to someone else.”
“Stuart gets a pass on this one,” Margot said. “Forgive him.”
“That’s my decision,” Jenna said, “and I’ve made it. I am not marrying Stuart tomorrow.”
With that, she spun on the balls of her bare feet and walked inside.
Margot had remained planted on the step, her elbows on her knees. She took off her silver heels and wiggled her toes. Jenna needed time to cool down and a chance to come to her senses. She needed sleep.
The funny thing, Margot realized, was that she had won the argument. Love dies. But she didn’t like it one bit.
Jenna was taking a long time in the bathroom. Margot got out of bed and checked down the hall. The bathroom was dark and unoccupied. No Jenna. Shit, Margot thought. She really wanted to have a talk with her before the house sprang to life.
The door to Jenna’s room, which she was sharing with Finn and Autumn, was closed tight, as were the doors to the master bedroom and Kevin’s room. Footsteps from upstairs—the kids—but that was to be expected.
Margot headed back down to the kitchen; she needed more coffee. And she should eat something. Maybe she and Jenna could walk down the street to the Bake Shop to pick up doughnuts. They had time. Margot ran through the day’s schedule in her head. If Jenna could find it in her heart to forgive Stuart for doing what any kind-but-flawed groom-to-be might do (lie by omission about a long-past, ill-advised, super-brief engagement), the following would take place: