Free Monarch Beach by Anita Hughes Page A

quivered. I felt the tears start.
    “And you’re going to stop crying,” Stephanie said.
    “That, too,” I said, though my eyes were wet. “Max doesn’t deserve such a shit for a dad.”
    “He doesn’t, but life isn’t fair, even for the privileged classes.” Stephanie grinned. “So, tell me again what you’re going to do besides not drink and not cry?”
    “I’ll go see my mother tomorrow and make an appointment with her attorney,” I said with a sigh.
    “Good girl.”
    “And I will not throw anything at Andre tonight.”
    “Did you throw anything at him today?” Stephanie asked.
    “Just your Manolo. But I missed him.”
    “After you see the attorney we’ll get you some target practice.”
    “No, I don’t want to impart bodily harm. Well, I do, but I don’t want to go to jail. That wouldn’t help Max.”
    “See, you are still thinking clearly, you’re stronger than you think.”
    “Oh, Stephanie.” I turned to her.
    “No more crying. I have to go home. Gisella gets off at six and Glenn doesn’t know how to use a microwave. He’ll put the baked potatoes in for ten minutes and burn the house down.”
    “No, he won’t,” I said and laughed.
    “Really. He doesn’t pay much attention to the outside world. He still thinks I’m twenty-five and hot.”
    “That’s because you look like you’re twenty-five. You saved my life today. Thanks.” I gave her a hug.
    “It was nothing. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I feel like a complete heel.”
    “Andre’s the heel. I’m the dummy who fell for him.”
    “No, he’s the dummy who didn’t deserve you. Call me tomorrow after you see your mother.” Stephanie kissed me on the cheek and ran down the stairs.
    *   *   *
    I sat on the steps. The night was gorgeous, warm and clear. I heard crickets and a frog burping. Max came outside in his pajamas and sat down.
    “How was your day?” I asked.
    “Great. Nineteen more days of school.”
    “You love school,” I said.
    “Sure, but summer’s better.”
    “Summer is good,” I agreed. We usually spent summers at home, with weekend trips to Lake Tahoe. Last summer Max went to sleepover camp for the first time. He came home full of stories of giant spiders and the one fish he caught by himself. Andre and I spent most of the week Max was gone in bed, reliving the first year of our marriage. What would Max and I do this summer? I felt the tears start and rubbed my eyes.
    “I don’t want to go to camp this summer,” Max said, linking his arm through mine.
    “But you caught that huge fish. And this year you learn archery. Grandma bought you the bow and arrow set for Christmas.”
    Max considered this. The bow and arrows had been lying at the foot of his bed since December. His little friends tramping through his bedroom on playdates were jealous of the five bows with the real feathers.
    “I do want to do archery, but I want to stay with you and Daddy. Maybe he can teach me archery?” Max asked.
    “We’ll ask him,” I said. I held Max’s hand and we listened to the crickets. For a moment I wavered. How could I divorce Andre and deprive Max of having a father around to teach him boy things? But what kind of husband would Max become if he learned from Andre?
    “C’mon, let’s go to bed. I think we could both use a good night’s sleep.”
    “But Daddy isn’t back yet,” Max protested.
    “I’ll make sure we eat his bread for breakfast, with warm butter. How’s that?”
    “I wanted to say good night.”
    “I’ll lie down on your bed with you, and when Daddy comes he can say good night to both of us,” I suggested.
    Max smiled. I never slept in his bed with him, so this was a huge treat. I took off my shoes and tucked my body against the wall, leaving Max as much of his bed as I could. I waited till I heard him snoring softly and then I closed my eyes.
    Later I heard the front door open. I glanced at the clock; it was almost eleven o’clock. I held my breath, trying not