Free The Good Wife by Jane Porter Page B

the dough and working in tandem, as if they were performing a delicate medical operation instead of making cookies. It was good, this life. Even at its messiest.
    “It’s going to be okay,” Sarah said firmly, more briskly. “You’re amazing, and you have an amazing family.”
    Meg suddenly looked up at Sarah, face wet, nose streaming, and made a yelping sound. “How embarrassing!” She stepped away, turned around, looking for a tissue. “I’m a disaster!”
    “We all are. That’s just life.”
    Meg grabbed a paper towel and blotted beneath her eyes. “So. Do I call Jack? Text him? What do I do?”
    Sarah pictured the scene she’d witnessed an hour ago, remembered the slam of the door behind Jack, the way he’d walked out, seething. “Give him space.”
    “I feel like I should apologize.”
    “I’d wait. He needs to cool off, and you don’t need to chase after him. It’ll just make you appear clingy and weak.”
    “So I wait.”
    “Yes. Wait. Let him call you.”
    * * *
    W hile the cookies cooled on top of the stove, Sarah slipped up to the guest room and phoned Boone, hoping he was still awake.
    “Not asleep?” she asked when he answered the phone.
    “Nope. Just in bed, watching the news. What are you doing?”
    “About to help the kids frost cookies.”
    “That sounds fun.”
    “Yeah.”
    “So it was a good day?”
    “Pretty good. Overall.” If she didn’t think about Mom, or Meg and Jack, or the fact that Boone was about to start a new season of ball, which meant he’d be traveling a lot again, and in and out of hotels, with girls and groupies camping out in the lobby, hoping to snare a player for a quick lay. Or longer. “Jack and Meg are having some serious problems,” she said, not wanting to think about girls or groupies tonight, or giving her imagination any power. There was enough real drama happening as it was.
    “Jack’s not happy,” Boone said.
    “Did he say that to you?”
    “Yeah.”
    “He told me the same thing.” She drew a breath. “He bought a house in Virginia. JJ told me tonight. I guess it’s a new thing.”
    “What does Meg say about it?”
    “She hasn’t brought it up, and JJ implied that Meg hadn’t made a fuss because she’s afraid Jack will leave if she does.”
    “That’s ridiculous. Jack’s not an ogre. He loves Meg, and the kids.”
    “You should have heard the fight tonight. It was crazy. Jack lost it. Meg was crying, and the kids were all upset—”
    “They heard?”
    “They couldn’t help but hear. Jack and Meg were screaming at each other in the living room and on the stairs.”
    “Were our kids there?”
    “Yes.”
    “You should have got them out of there.”
    “I wanted to, but there was nowhere to go . . . and it all happened so fast. Jack wants a divorce—”
    “He said he wants a divorce?”
    “No. But he did say he wants out.”
    “Just like that?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Not good.”
    “I know.” They were both silent a moment and then Sarah sighed. “I can’t wait to see you, Boone. I miss you. And I hate this. It’s stressful and scary for the kids.”
    “I hear that.”
    “I wish we were flying home tonight.”
    “You’ll be on the plane tomorrow. You’ll be back here, in your own beds tomorrow night.”
    “Tomorrow seems so far away.”
    “It’s been a rough month, babe.”
    “It has. But, Boone, everything’s easier when I’m with you.”
    “I know it. And I miss you, too, hon. I’ll be very glad when you’re back home with me, where you belong.”

Four
    L auren was in bed, staring at the clock, watching the minutes tick by. 9:23. 9:28. 9:35. 9:36. 9:48. 10:00.
    She needed to sleep. Her alarm went off early every morning. She wasn’t good on her feet all day without rest but tonight, the moment she tried to relax, her past returned, haunting her.
    Torturing her.
    This is why she’d moved. This is why she’d left Napa in the first place. She’d needed the change of scenery. Needed new activities