Gerri Hill: The Cottage

not far from the piers. She pointed and Jill nodded, following her through the trees.

"I didn't tell you, but Josh asked me point-blank if I was seeing someone," Carrie said.

"When?"

"Last week. He said he could tell something was up between me and his dad."

"What did you say?"

Carrie looked away, out to the lake. "I told him I wasn't," she said quietly. "But Jill, I came

so close to telling him the truth." She turned, watching Jill. "Josh is such a great kid. And

I think he would understand about this, about us. I really do." She opened the loaf of

bread, handing Jill several slices. "But then I didn't want to burden him with the weight of

all this. He's going to be going off to college in a couple of months. I don't want him

worrying about me."

As they walked closer to the water, the ducks saw them and swam closer, some getting out

of the water to clamor at their feet. They silently tore apart the bread and tossed it to

the dozen or more ducks that gathered around them. Grandma Duck joined them, limping

noticeably as she fought for her share of bread.

"What are we going to do?" Jill finally asked.

"I don't know," Carrie said as she bent down to hand Grandma Duck a piece of bread. She

glanced up, meeting Jill's eyes. "I just know I love you. That's all."

Jill's breath caught as it always did when Carrie uttered those words to her. Yes, that was

all. Love. But a love neither of them quite knew what to do with. Jill stood back, watching

the ducks, watching Carrie. Carrie finally stood, her eyes squeezing shut in a grimace.

"What's wrong?" Jill asked.

"It's nothing," she said as she rubbed her temples. "Just have a killer headache. Comes and

goes." She gave a brief smile. "You want to find a park bench?"

Jill shook her head. "I'd rather go back to the cottage and have a little alone time."

Carrie glanced at her watch. "Fifteen minutes."

Jill took her arm and led her back down the trail. "I can be a few minutes late."

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Harriet knocked once then cracked the door, sticking her head inside. Jill looked away

from her monitor, eyebrows raised.

"What's up?"

"You have a visitor," Harriet whispered.

Jill frowned. "Who?"

"It's your mother-in-law."

"Oh, God," Jill said with a groan. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Sorry."

"What does she want?" Jill whispered.

"She just asked to see you."

Jill stood. "Okay, okay." She smoothed her skirt then walked to the door. Harriet had

disappeared and Jill forced a smile as she greeted Arlene.

"What a surprise, Arlene. Is something wrong?"

"Of course not. Can't I visit my daughter-in-law?"

"You don't normally." Jill stood back, motioning to her office. "Come in."

Arlene took a seat in one of the visitor's chairs, her eyes moving around the room, landing

on the few personal items Jill kept there. She saw the disapproving look on her face and

knew what was coming. There were no pictures of Craig in her office. In fact, the only one

of Angie was taken nearly five years ago.

"It's so impersonal here, Jill. I would have thought you'd have more reminders of your

family. You seem to have forgotten you have one."

"Listen, Arlene, if you came here to discuss my marriage, you should have saved yourself

the trip. It's none of your business."

"I did not come here to discuss your marriage. I came to discuss my son's."

"Then perhaps you should discuss it with him."

Arlene smiled smugly. "Oh, I have dear. And it's positively horrendous what you're doing to

him. Making him sleep in the spare bedroom as if you are little more than roommates. And

poor Angie, you've ruined her for life, I'll have you know. That child is in tears nearly every

day."

Jill stood abruptly. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to this, Arlene." She pointed to the

door. "Good-bye."

But Arlene made no attempt to leave.

"Eighteen years of marriage and you're not even willing to fight for it? What kind of a

woman are you? I never imagined you to be so heartless, Jill."

"Get out of my office, Arlene."

"If you don't love him, then divorce him, let him go so he can get on with his life. He's still

young. He can still find someone who can treat him with the dignity and respect he

deserves."

Jill leaned forward, her hands on the desk. "You have no idea what it was like to live with

him, Arlene. I was invisible in my own house. How would you like to be married to a man who

was never around? To a man who hadn't matured past twenty-one? It got old."

Arlene shook her head. "That's his job. And if you'd bothered to keep your teaching job all

those years ago, you could have spent more time together. But no, you wouldn't listen to

me. Well, I hope you're happy now. You've ruined your husband's life, your daughter's life."

She stood quickly, her purse grasped tightly in her hands. "At least have the decency to

tell him the truth." She spun on her heels and was gone before Jill could reply.

"Unbelievable."

And when Harriet stuck her head in the door a short time later, Jill was still standing, still

staring into space.

"Need to talk about it?"

Jill looked at her for a long moment then sighed. She and Harriet were eight-to-five

friends, nothing more. They rarely discussed their home life. And she didn't think now was

a good time to start.

"I'm sorry, but I overheard," Harriet said.

Jill moved back to her chair, finally motioning for Harriet to sit. Telling someone she was

having marital problems was one thing. Telling them she was having an affair with a married

woman was quite another matter altogether.

"Craig's her only child," Jill said by way of explanation.

"Well, I've noticed you haven't really been yourself lately."

Jill laughed. "That's an understatement." She folded her hands in front of her, idly

twisting the wedding band she still wore. "I guess you could say Craig and I are separated,"

she said.

"Oh my goodness. I had no idea."

"We're still living in the same house, he's just moved into the spare room. And it's beyond

awkward," she admitted.

"Are you going to divorce?"

Jill looked up and met her eyes. It was a decision she wrestled with daily. She knew the

answer, of course. She just hadn't been able to say it. But now she nodded.

"Yes. I'm going to file for divorce."

"I'm so sorry. I know with a child, it must be very difficult."

"What's more difficult is realizing your child wants to stay with her father, not you." Jill

leaned back in her chair, turning her head to look out the window. "It's very complicated,

Harriet."

"I know it's none of my business but is there someone else?"

She wanted so badly to tell her. The love she felt for Carrie was nearly bursting at the

seams and she just wanted to tell someone about it, tell someone how happy she was, how

fulfilled she was when she was with Carrie. But she couldn't. Not yet.

"I just told my mother-in-law it was none of her business." She smiled to soften her words.

"I should tell you the same thing."

"Of course. I understand."

As she moved to go, Jill stopped her.

"Harriet? I appreciate the offer to talk. Really I do."

Harriet just nodded and slipped from the room.

"I mean it, Craig. You've got to talk to her. She's not our goddamned marriage counselor,"

Jill said as she slammed the cabinet door.

"What? I'm to forbid her to talk to you?"

"That would be a start." She added the pasta to the boiling water, aware of Craig watching

her. "Where is Angie?"