Free His Other Wife by Deborah Bradford

credibility to the grief and pride she’d been juggling.
     She glanced across at her mother, feeling a surprising kinship with Alva. I wonder if she grieved when I left home. If she did, I never knew it. Hilary made a note to ask about it later in the day.
    Mother did it with such grace, her letting go of me.
    Mr. Schuster was telling the parents how proud they ought to be. Then he said, “Anyone who has participated in raising these
     young people onstage, please stand so we can give you what you deserve. A round of applause.”
    Eric and Hilary stood together as an ovation filled the gym. Hilary realized this was why she hadn’t wanted Eric to trade
     chairs with her mother. I wanted to sit by Eric. I wanted this to happen. Pam was watching them together, and, for one horrible moment Hilary thought Pam might stand and try to take some credit for
     raising Seth, too. Hilary knew it was her pride speaking, but she felt a lovely sense of justice that Pam could not join
     them. She may have Eric now , Hilary thought as she looked down at her husband’s new wife, but she will never have this position in his life. She will never be the mother of his firstborn son.
    The rest of the ceremony went by quickly. The students stood row-by-row. They stepped forward when their names were called.
     Seth swung his tassel from one side of his cap to the other after he received his diploma from the superintendent of schools.
     Seth gave a high five to Remy and Ian and T.J., he hugged Emily, and the beach balls started to fly.
    The senior video played on a gigantic screen. Hilary cheered for almost every frame, baby pictures and sports videos, the
     mud-wrestling birthday party that Seth had warned her about, the funny pictures of Laura. When the football segment began,
     Hilary leaped from her seat. She knew where the ball was going, who was going to catch it, who was going to score. “It’s Seth’s
     touchdown catch. This is it.” She grabbed Eric’s sleeve (he’d draped his jacket over the chair because of the heat) and tugged
     like a child trying to get an adult’s attention. “I’m so glad you’re getting to see this!”
    The next thing they all knew, Mr. Schuster was announcing, “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the graduating class of
     2011.”
    Mortarboards flew. The band played a raucous, off-key song. The crowd went wild.
    As the graduates tried to march down the steps the way they’d practiced, families converged on them from every direction.
     Hilary realized she should have made plans to meet Seth in the crowd.
    “I see Seth!” Ben shouted. “He’s over there.”
    Eric’s parents appeared at her side. “Can you find Seth? Oh, that speech was wonderful!” Ruth gushed. “Oh, honey, it’s so
     good to see you again. We’ve missed you so much.”
    “I’ve missed you, too,” Hilary told Eric’s mother. Which was an understatement. Ruth had raised the man with whom Hilary had
     fallen in love. She had taught Hilary how to reupholster her dining-room chairs and how to grow aloe in her garden and how
     to phone the insurance company repeatedly to get a reimbursement.
    “I’ve wanted to talk to you,” Ruth said, “but I didn’t know what to say. We’re sorry things turned out this way.”
    Yes , Hilary wanted to say. I’m sorry, too.
    Thankfully, Hilary was saved from having to answer. The crowd swept them up and propelled them forward. “Seth’s over there!”
     Ben shouted. “Let’s go.”
    During the graduation ceremony, Hilary had discovered something she’d somehow known deep down for a long time: Her joy, her
     esteem, her self-image were all tied together, bound up with her child. She had no thought for anything else. “You lead the
     way,” Hilary told Ben, forgetting everything else except finding her son in the chaos. “We’re right behind you.”
    Suddenly the whole group of them, half sister and stepmom, grandparents and parents, formed an excited tangle around their