But I don’t know anything about her life. I’m not judging her.
I make coffee for us and as soon as we sit at the breakfast bar, she says, “You’re looking tense, darling. Is everything all right?”
Everything bubbles to the surface. I’m trying to hold back, but I spill it all. “I remember how thrilled I was the moment I first saw him, how amazing that night was. Then, the next morning, he just grunted at me over breakfast. Now he goes out in the morning, and he doesn’t come back until late. When he’s here, he hardly talks to me at all.”
With a sad look in her eyes, she reaches across the kitchen island to touch my hand. “You’ll need to make some adaptations, darling. Look, your lovely home’s coming along nicely. I’ll tell you this,” she leans forward and lowers her voice, “everybody’s envious of this house. Three pools, no less.” She twinkles with admiration.
It’s true that we have three pools. There’s the big one by the patio at the back, the indoor pool in the basement, and the infinity pool upstairs, outside the master bedroom. I know everyone is jealous of that one. And the desert views are stunning, especially at sunset.
“I’m the oldest sister in the family,” Mary tells me with a weary smile. “Without Mam, I guess I’m the default family mother.” She gives my hand an encouraging squeeze. “You should feel free to confide in me.”
I’m annoyed with myself, letting my complaints out in front of John’s sister. What I said is pretty minor. Every wife I’ve ever known has had a stream of trouble that ran below the surface. It’s life. It’s okay, but I shouldn’t let off steam in front of his family. Especially not his eldest sister.
She gets the bit between her teeth. “You have to understand, Kiera. That’s what John is like. His work is what comes first. He’s dedicated to building the family business, and providing for his family.” She smiles. “That’s you, love. And I’m sure pretty soon, there will be more of you.”
She touches my hand. “Being married isn’t what he wanted, but he’ll get used to the idea of it. We should have you and John over for dinner,” she tells me. Given that John is never home, and I’m pretty sure Connor is the same way, I can’t see how that’s ever going to happen. Then she adds, “And stop by whenever you like, Kiera. We can go shopping. Share our troubles, watch TV, anything you want.”
It’s hard to see how that would work, either. Mary has three children under six years old. Come to think of it, did she get childcare so she could ‘drop by’?
I feel like I spend most of my life in this kitchen and I’m anxious to get out of it now. It’s the only part of the house that feels close to being finished.
I’m almost desperate for a change of air. I take hold of her hand and lead her upstairs to the deck with the infinity pool.
“That big light fitting in the bedroom, Mary,” I say, standing on the deck with her, looking in through the big bedroom windows. “It’s too much, isn’t it? Concealed lighting would be better in there. And the colors would be better if they were paler, don’t you think? They’d let the view light the room more.” I look into her eyes. “What do you think, Mary?”
She’s thoughtful. And uncomfortable.
“Oh,” I say, “while you’re here, do feel free to take a dip in the pool. I can fix us drinks or whatever you would like.”
She shifts awkwardly. Instinctively holding back. That’s it, Mary, I think. If you try to step into my married life, you’d better to be ready to do it on my terms. You may be eight years older than me, but I’m nobody’s fool.
Soon, Mary remembers errands she needs to run. After hugs and kisses, she leaves with promises of girls’ nights out and ‘sisterly solidarity.’
She’s family. My family, now. So I’m going to love her. We’ll be part of each other's lives, and I’ll find a way for us to be close. I’ve got no idea how I’m going to make that work, but I will.
I don’t see myself sinking into a couch with Mary, goggle-eyed at afternoon soaps and sloshing cocktails. Not any more than I see myself becoming a full-time amateur interior designer. I don’t want a life of chocolate-and-ice-cream-eating marathons, either, however much I love chocolate and ice cream.
I’m relieved that Mary has left, but I feel empty and alone.
Chapter Seven
Kiera
I don’t think of myself as a beauty, but John’s absence and his moods could qualify him to be the Beast.
He arrives home even later than usual tonight. A scent of stale alcohol follows him in, and in the glimpse I see of him, I catch sight of blood on his shirt.