“You have every right to be pissed,” he says when I’ve finished.
“I’m not pissed.”
“Then you’re in shock.”
I sit quietly, breathing in and out, watching the freeway fly by. My emotions sink and settle, silt in a creek bed. HowdoI feel? Dazed, certainly. Sad for Meredith, and sad for Ally. And I’m filled to bursting with hate—I can hardly think of anything but hate, hate, hate.
How could my dad be so selfish, and lie so blatantly? How could he jeopardize our family in the name of getting a piece? Because that’s what’s happening—he’s sleeping with that woman, the woman with the rose-gold hair. There’s not a doubt in my mind.
“Okay, maybe I’m pissed,” I admit, “but I’m not going to freak out and scream and cry.”
“That would be okay,” Max says.
“I won’t give him the satisfaction.”
“Are you one hundred percent sure about what you saw?”
I turn to give him an incredulous look. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Jilly… I’m really sorry.”
I am too, I think, scooting across the seat to assume the position of redneck girlfriend. Max uses his free hand to rub my shoulders, and as his fingers knead away clusters of tension, I think about Bill. He’s facing a lifetime of immobility and dependence, yet he’s indomitable in spirit. He wouldnevercheat on Marcy.
Why is my dad such an asshole?
Max exits the freeway. “Do you have any idea who she was?”
“I only saw her from behind, and at a distance. Young, old, pretty, hideous… who knows? She could’ve been a work associate. A friend of a friend. Someone he met pumping gas. Doesn’t matter. All that matters is that he’s screwing around on Meredith.”
“Are you gonna tell her?”
I don’t answer right away—I hadn’t considered that breaking the bad news might fall on my shoulders. “God, I have no idea what to do.…”
“You can talk to my mom,” he offers. “Or Zoe.”
“Thanks, but I feel like Meredith should know before anyone else.”
He nods and drives on. He doesn’t head straight for our neighborhood. Instead, he cruises around town, twisting and turning up and down hills, touring neighborhoods and our quiet river road. He’s stalling, which is fine with me. I have zero desire to be at home.
“Jill?” he says after a long space of silence. “Maybe I’m a jerk bringing this up now, but has it occurred to you that we’re kind of doing the same thing your dad’s doing?”
I sit back so I can see his face. “Having an extramarital affair? Not exactly.”
“No, but I cheated on Becky with you, and I’m not proud of it. We’ve been sneaking around. Hiding out. Keeping secrets.”
“Max—”
“No, hear me out. I go along with our little arrangement because it’s what you want, but I don’t like it. I’ve got enough going on with my family, and now you do, too.” His words puncture my deceit-filled bubble. It sputters and hisses, disillusion leaking out, evaporating into the truck’s artificially balmy air. I find myself listening,reallylistening.
“Keeping something this huge from my parents sucks,” he says, gentle but persuasive. “What’s the worst that’ll happen if your dad finds out? He’ll be mad, but who gives a shit? Better than holing up in my truck every time we want to hang out. Better than creeping around like we’re doing something wrong.”
It hits me hard, how unfair I’ve been.
“Okay,” I say softly.
“Okay… what?”
“No more secrets.”
