Free Tell Me No Secrets by Joy Fielding Page B

pages.”
    “Well, that explains why I missed it,” Maureen stated. “I never read anything in the papers these days but the recipes.”
    Jess struggled to keep her dismay from registering on her face, knew she was failing.
    “It’s just too depressing,” Maureen explained, her voice as much apology as explanation. “And there’s only so much time.” Her voice trailed off to a whisper.
    “So, what special treat have you concocted for us for tonight?” Barry joined his wife on the couch, taking her hands in his.
    Maureen took a deep breath, pulling her eyes away from Jess and staring straight ahead, as if she were reading from an imaginary blackboard. “To start with, there’s a mock turtle soup, followed by a honey-glazed chicken with sesame seeds, candied yams and grilled veggies, then a green salad with pecans and Gorgonzola cheese, and finally, a pear mousse with raspberry sauce.”
    “Sounds fabulous.” Barry gave his wife’s hand an extra squeeze.
    “Sounds like you’ve been cooking all week.”
    “Sounds like much more work than it actually is,” Maureen said modestly.
    “I don’t know how you do it,” Jess said, sputtering over the “how” when what she really wanted to say was “why.”
    “Actually, I find it very relaxing.”
    “You should try it, Jess,” Barry said.
    “You should stuff it, Barry,” Jess said in return.
    Once again both Jess and Barry were on their feet. “That’s it,” he was saying. “I’ve had enough.”
    “You’ve had more than enough,” Jess told him. “And for much too long. At my sister’s expense.”
    “Jess, you’re wrong.”
    “I’m not wrong, Maureen.” Jess began pacing the room. “What’s happened to you? You used to be this fabulous, smart woman who knew the morning paper backward and forward. Now, you only read recipes? For God’s sake, you were on your way to a vice presidency! Now you’re on your way to the kitchen! This man has you up to your eyeballs in dirty dishes and dirty diapers and you’re trying to convince me that you like it?”
    “She doesn’t have to convince you of anything,” Barry said angrily.
    “I think my sister is perfectly capable of speaking for herself. Or is that another new role around here? She only speaks through you.”
    “You know what I think, Jess?” Barry asked, not waiting for an answer. “I think you’re jealous.”
    “Jealous?”
    “Yes, jealous. Because your sister has a husband and a family, and she’s happy. And what have you got? A freezer full of frozen pizzas and a goddamn canary!”
    “Next you’ll tell me all I really need is a good fuck!”
    “Jess!” Maureen looked toward the stairs, her eyes filling with tears.
    “What you really need is a good spanking,” Barry said, walking to the piano by the large picture window and slamming his knuckles against the keys. The sound, an unpleasant fistful of sharps and flats, swept through the house, like a sudden brushfire. From upstairs, the twins started to cry, first one, then the other.
    Maureen lowered her head into her chest, crying into the crisp white collar of her blouse. Then without looking at either Jess or Barry, she bolted from the room.
    “Damnit,” Jess whispered, her own eyes filling with tears.
    “One day,” Barry said quietly, “you’ll go too far.”
    “I know,” Jess said, her voice dripping sarcasm. “You never forget. You get even.” In the next instant, she was on the stairs behind her sister. “Maureen, please, wait. Let me talk to you.”
    “There’s nothing you can say,” Maureen told her, opening the door to the lilac-and-white-papered nursery to the right of the stairs. The smell of talcum powder immediately invaded Jess’s nostrils like a heavy narcotic. She hung back, newly dizzy and light-headed, clinging to the doorway, watching as Maureen ministered to her infant daughters.
    The cribs stood at right angles against the opposite wall, mobiles of tiny giraffes and teddy bears swirling