At home, Chris locks up and sets the alarm. I leave my phone tucked inside my evening bag and for the first time in a long time, Chris doesn’t disappear into the office. Instead, he lets Tucker out and tells me he’ll be up in a minute. In our bedroom, I put on my warmest pajamas in an attempt to offset the lingering chill, then remove the elaborate makeup and brush my teeth. I burrow into the bed feeling drowsy, the warmth and softness lulling me into a state of relaxation.

Chris makes his way upstairs. He doesn’t turn on the lights but the water runs and the toilet flushes in the master bathroom. Silently, he pulls back the covers and slides between the sheets. Before I drift off completely I’m aware of a shifting of weight, of movement that encircles me. I teeter at the precipice between wakefulness and sleep, and then I fall, wrapped tightly in the arms of my husband.

46

chris

I close my eyes and hold Claire in my arms, replaying the events of the evening in my mind. The first image I revisit is Claire standing naked in our bedroom. Even the antidepressants and their unwelcome side effects couldn’t dampen the way I felt when I walked into the room. To see her standing there like that took my breath away.

I watched her turn heads tonight, and I realized that I’ve been so wrapped up in my own life I never once thought about what she’d do if another man hit on her. I’m thinking about it now, and I don’t like it.

I’m worried about what will happen if I stop taking the antidepressants. I don’t know if I can handle the pressure. Maybe they’re just a crutch, and I don’t really need them anymore. Then instead of holding my wife I could make love to her.

If I’m wrong, I might lose everything I’ve gained.

But if I’m right, I might be able to have it all.

47

claire

I’m driving home after dropping off Josh and Jordan at their respective after-school activities when my cell phone rings. A quick glance at the screen brings a smile to my face. “Hey,” I say when I answer. “I was just thinking about you.”

“One of my fellow officers just pulled over a friend of yours,” Daniel says. “The one who drinks a lot. Julia.”

“What?” I’m confused about how Daniel knows this information. “Where?”

“A couple of miles from your neighborhood. A neighbor noticed her swerving and called the police. She failed the field sobriety test and the Breathalyzer. Her kids are in the car.”

Oh, Jesus.

Daniel continues. “She tried to talk him out of arresting her by giving him my name. She said I was ‘Claire’s friend.’”

“Where is she now?” I ask.

“She’s still there. The officer is waiting to take her in because he needs someone to come get the kids. How far away are you?”

I give him my location and he tells me where Julia is.

“How long will it take you to get there?”

“Less than ten minutes.”

Daniel stays on the line until I reach the flashing lights and the two cars parked on the shoulder of the road. It’s heavily traveled and the cars in front of me slow to see what’s going on. I pull up behind the police car.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Just take the kids home with you. Call her husband and tell him he’ll need to post bail. Are you okay, Claire? Can you handle this? I can come meet you if you need help.”

My stomach does an odd flip. I want no part of this drama I’ve been unwillingly pulled into, but I think of Julia’s girls and how scared and confused they must be. “No. I’m fine. I’ll take care of it. I’ll call you later,” I tell Daniel and disconnect the call. I get out of the car and the officer approaches me. Julia is in the back of the police car but her girls are still in the backseat of her minivan.

“Hi. Thanks for coming. I’m Officer Hill.”

“Claire Canton.” I shake his proffered hand. “Can I speak to the girls first?”

“Yes. That’s a good idea.”

I open the door to the minivan and stick my head inside, a comforting smile on my face. The girls’ frightened expressions tug at my heartstrings, so I smile warmly and speak in a soothing voice.

“Everything’s okay. The police are here to make sure everyone drives safely and they just want to talk to your mom for a minute, okay?”

They nod silently, unsure of how to respond. Of course they don’t know what to say. They’re children.

“Stay in your seats. I’ll be right back.”

Tears run down five-year-old Hillary’s face as she nods solemnly. Three-year-old Beth remains blissfully clueless.

I approach the police car and the officer opens the door so I can slide in beside Julia. Her hair hangs in her eyes and mascara streaks her cheeks. The smell of alcohol fills the car. She won’t even look at me. I pull my cell phone out of my pocket.

“Where would Justin be right now? Is he on his way home?”

Suddenly, I have her attention. Her head snaps up and she begs silently, eyes blazing, imploring me not to make the call. I wait patiently. This ends now. Her shoulders slump in defeat.

“He’s probably with his girlfriend,” she says, slurring a bit. But she mostly sounds sad.

Justin has a girlfriend? And Julia knows about this?

I don’t even know what to say about that, but I have more pressing things to worry about. I scroll through my contacts and call Justin. When he answers I begin to speak.

“It’s Claire. Julia got pulled over for drunk driving. I have a friend on the police force and he called me. I’m with her now.”

Justin inhales sharply and there’s a slight pause before he says, “Fuck.” He exhales and asks, “What now?”

“The officer is going to arrest her.” Beside me, Julia starts crying. “Listen to me, Justin. Your daughters were with her. They were sitting in the backseat while your wife swerved her way out of our neighborhood. Check Julia into rehab immediately and pray they don’t slap her with child endangerment.”

Julia cries harder and a figurative thud echoes through the car as she hits rock bottom.

Of course he agrees.

I tell him I’ll drive the girls home and wait for him there.

“I’ll head down to the station,” he says. “Tell Julia I’m on my way.”

“Okay.”

“Claire?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

The officer helps me install Beth and Hillary’s car and booster seats in my SUV and we strap the girls in. I’m grateful that they don’t really know what’s going on and that the memory will fade by the time they’re old enough to realize what happened. At least I hope it will. After I shut the door I turn to Officer Hill and say, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says.

I lean back in the open door of the squad car. “I’m going to take the girls to my house. I’ll make them dinner and they can play with Josh and Jordan when they get home.”

Julia wipes her eyes and nods.

“It’ll be okay,” I say, giving her hand a quick squeeze.

Silence fills the car on our way home, and my mood feels as gray as the sky on this blustery March day. Spring seems a lifetime away. I turn up the heat so the girls won’t be cold. Maybe I should open a dialogue with them, comfort them somehow with words, but then I decide that the less talking I do, the better. The radio plays softly and the minutes pass like hours.

At home, I get out some coloring books and crayons and ask the girls if they want a snack.