Page 59 of The Guests on South Battery
Fresh tears sprang to my eyes as I imagined Jack and Jayne stuck together for all eternity.
Ginette resumed patting my back. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I was just trying to lighten the mood. So what happened next?”
“Well,” I sniffed, “I heard the sound of a club hitting a ball and then the ball rolling. Jack laughed at something and then...”
“And then?” She leaned forward.
“Nothing. Not a sound. Not a word or another laugh. Nothing. Silence.”
“And when you walked into the foyer, what was going on?”
I stared at my mother, stricken. “What do you mean? I didn’t want to walk in on them!”
She stared back at me for a long moment, blinking. “You didn’t go in to see what was going on?”
I shook my head. “I couldn’t. I didn’t want to see them...”
“See them what, Mellie?”
I shrugged, not wanting to put my fears into words. “You know.”
Ginette sat back and took a deep breath. “Actually, I don’t. Because you didn’t go in to see for yourself and instead allowed your imagination to fill in the blanks.”
“But what else could they be doing besides... besides... hanky-panky?” I spat out, using Jack’s words that suddenly sounded worse than if I’d used the word “fornication.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said, pretending to think. “Practicing their putting, maybe? Admiring a painting? Or maybe they’d walked into another room and you couldn’t hear them. There are dozens of things they could have been doing that could never be called ‘hanky-panky.’” She gave me a settling look. “So, what did Jack say when you asked him about it?”
I became suddenly very interested in studying my cuticles.
As if following my train of thought, she gently took hold of my chin with her thumb and index finger and forced me to look at her. “What did Jack say, Mellie? It’s been almost two days. Surely you’ve talked to him by now.”
I shook my head, dislodging a drip from the end of my nose. “I couldn’t. I’ve been hiding out in the guest room pretending I have the flu and sneaking into the nursery when Jayne isn’t around so I can see the children.”
She put her fingers on her temples and I was encouraged, thinking she was channeling somebody to help me. Instead she just shook her head. “This is worse than I thought. Mellie, sweetheart, what happened to your resolution to be a better version of yourself? You’re a wife and mother now. You need to be more open and honest in all your relationships—especially your marriage. You deserve it, and—more important—your children deserve it. Jack loves you, Mellie. I have never for a single moment doubted that, and I don’t believe you do, either. Regardless of what was going on in that foyer, you owe it to yourself, your marriage, and your children to find out and deal with it.”
She reached over and took both my hands in her gloved ones.“Promise me that you’ll deal with this tonight? That you’ll talk with Jack and get this all sorted out?” Her lips twitched into a small smile. “I must say makeup sex is always the best sex.”
I pulled away, thoroughly disgusted. “Ew, Mother. Please don’t ever use the word ‘sex’ in my hearing—especially when I know you’re referring to you and Dad. It’s just... wrong.”
“I have no idea why you think that way, Mellie. After all, how else do you think you got here?”
I shuddered again and she laughed. “All right. I’ll try not to say it again in your hearing. But promise me you’ll talk to Jack? Tonight. Don’t let this fester any longer.”
“But what if—”
She put her finger on my lips to silence me. “Just find out. I’m sure it’s not anything near as dire as you think. You’ll never know until you talk it out with Jack. I know you prefer the head-in-the-sand approach that you apply to most ghosts, but I don’t think that’s worked out very well for you, either, has it?”
“No, but...”
She gave me a look that made me stop what I was about to say.
I made no move to go inside, and not just because of the waves of energy beyond the door in the house behind us, the pulsing against the weather-beaten wood and peeling paint like little fists.
“Mother, can I ask you a question?”
“Of course. Anything. I hope you realize how desperate I am to make up for all those absent years when a girl needs her mother most.”
I blinked at her, my eyes prickling with moisture. “Am I fat?”
