Page 90 of Don't Tell Me How to Die

FIFTY-THREE

Esther didn’t blink. “Okay,” she said. “Nowyou can tell me about your life. What’s been going on since high school?”

For the next hour I talked, while Esther did what she did best—interrupt. She cut me off with comments and observations, and occasionally she cut me off right at the knees.

“What in God’s name were you thinking?” she exploded when I told her how I had risked disbarment to get Johnny Rollo’s drug possession charged reduced from a felony to a misdemeanor.

“And then I called you,” I said, when I got to the end of my monologue. “I accept that I’m dying, but I’m trying to clean up my life before I go.”

“Clean upyourlife? Or control Alex’s life from the grave?” she said. “Why are you so hell-bent on finding him another wife?”

“Because I don’t want what happened to me and Lizzie to happen to my kids.”

“And you don’t trust Alex to do what’s best for Katie and Kevin?”

“He’ll mean well, but he’ll be a basket case, which makes him easy pickings for the wrong woman. I saw it happen to my father.”

“You mean with Connie Gilchrist?” she said.

“How the hell did you pull that name out of your hat after all these years?” I said.

“I’m terrible with phone numbers, but I’m like Rain Man with names.”

“To answer your question, yes,” I said. “The world is crawling with Connies. You remember her name, but do you remember that she didn’t just stumble on my father? She was a career criminal who targeted him.”

“Your father and Alex are not the same person.”

“They’re men. Men fall for the kind of lies women like Connie feed them.”

“Ironic coming from someone who’s lying to her husband.”

“Jesus, Esther, whose side are you on, anyway?”

“I’m on the side of facing who you are honestly. I want you to leave this earth with as clear a conscience as you can.”

“So, you’re saying I should definitely tell Alex about the affair.”

“I definitely didnotsay that. Whether or not you tell Alex is your decision, not mine. Who have you told so far?”

“Nobody,” I said. “Not even Lizzie.”

She smiled. “Not even me.”

“What doesthatmean?”

“It means that when I asked you what was your most troubling problem, you admitted having an affair, but you’ve been spilling your guts for over an hour, and you never once mentioned the man’s name.”

“What difference does it make what hisnameis?”

“If you told me his name was Joe Blow, it wouldn’t make any difference, because the name would mean nothing to me. So, I’m wondering if you didn’t tell me his name because it’s one I already know.”

I sat back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest. “Go on,” I said.

“I don’t have to go on. Your body language is screaming that you’re hiding something. Do you think I’m going to judge you if it’s someone from your past? You schlepped a lot of baggage up in that elevator, Maggie. I’d like to help you leave some of it behind, but I can’t do that if you clam up on me.”

I unfolded my arms and told her his name. She recognized it immediately.

“Van was your first,” she said. “But then he broke your heart. When did it rekindle?”