And it was only when Page stood alone next to Brad that she turned to him and told him about the call from the woman she knew in the city.
“I hear you went jogging today before breakfast.” He didn't say anything at first, he just looked at her, it had never occurred to him that anyone would tell her.
“Who told you that?” He sounded furious, and guilty.
“What difference does it make?”
“It's none of your fucking business,” he said in total fury.
“This is our life you're throwing in the trash, Brad …mine and Allie's …and Andy's. You think he doesn't know what's going on. Try looking at his face once in a while. He knows. We all do.”
“Great! What did you do? Tell him? You bitch!” He threw the cooking utensils down then, and stormed into the house, and Page struggled with the barbecue for a while until she burned herself, and Andy went running to get Brad. He was crying by then, he had heard them arguing and then he had seen Page burn herself. He didn't want her to get hurt, or his parents to shout, and he had heard them saying something about him. Maybe it was all his fault they were arguing, maybe his Dad was mad that Allie was hurt, and not Andy. He looked devastated as Brad prodded the steaks angrily, and finally finished the dinner. And all three Clarkes were extremely quiet as they sat down to dinner. But as usual, neither Mari-belle nor Alexis appeared to notice.
“What a marvelous cook you are,” Maribelle complimented him. The steaks were good, but the atmosphere was poisonous. “Alexis, you really ought to try one of the steaks, they're too good to be true.” But Alexis shook her head, happy with her lettuce leaves, and Page and Andy were picking at their dinner. Page still had an ice cube held to the two fingers she had burned, and there was already a nasty blister.
“How's your hand, Mom?” Andy asked her worriedly.
“It's fine, sweetheart.” Brad said not a word and never looked at his wife. He was convinced now that she had told Andy about his affair, and he was so mad he wanted to kill her. He started arguing with her again in the kitchen when they cleaned up, and neither of them saw Andy standing on the other side of the counter.
“You told him, didn't you! You had no right to do that!”
“I did no such thing!” she shouted back at him. “I wouldn't do that to him. But you might as well tell him yourself, you're never here. What is he supposed to think? And what if someone tells him the way they told me?”
“It's none of his goddamn business either!” He slammed out of the kitchen again, and Page was crying as she put away the dishes. Brad had gone back outside and was putting out the barbecue, when her mother walked into the kitchen.
“What a lovely dinner, dear. We're having such a good time here.” Page stared at her unbelievingly, not even sure what to say, it was all so surrealistic. But her family always had been.
“I'm glad you liked the dinner. Brad makes a good steak.” Maybe he'd come back to cook steak for them after he remarried.
“You're a wonderful couple,” she said, beaming at Page, who finally put down her dish towel and looked at her mother.
“Actually, Mom, things aren't going too well. I'm sure you noticed.”
“Not at all. Of course you're both worried about Allyson, but that's natural. I'm sure in afew weeks you'll all be back to normal.” It was amazing for her to even acknowledge that much.
“I'm not so sure of that anymore.” And then she decided to tell her the whole truth. Why not? If she didn't like it, she'd just pretend she didn't hear it. “He's involved with someone else, and it's putting an awful lot of strain on us at the moment.”
But her mother only shook her head, refusing to believe it. “I'm sure you're mistaken about that, dear. Brad would never do a thing like that. He'd never do anything to jeopardize your marriage.”
“Yes, he is,” Page went on doggedly, suddenly determined to make her believe it.
“All women think things like that from time to time. You're overwrought with this problem with Allyson.” Problem? You mean like the fact that she's been in a coma for three weeks and might die? Oh that problem.…”You know, your father and I had our little arguments at times too, but they never amounted to anything serious. You just have to be a little more understanding.” Page stood staring at her mother then, unable to believe what she was hearing. She was willing not to discuss what had happened in their family, but she was not willing to pretend it had never happened.
“I can't believe what you're saying,” Page said hoarsely.
“It's true …hard as it is to believe, your father and I had our difficult moments.”
“Mom, this is me …Page … do you remember what we went through?”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Her mother turned away and started to leave the kitchen.
“Don't do this to me!” Page said, crying as she looked at her. “Don't you dare do this to me after all these years, with your pious, holier-than-thou lies …! Little problems.' Do you remember who you were married to? …what he did for all those years? How can you say that to me! Look at me dammit!”
Her mother turned slowly and stared at her blankly, as though she were unable to understand what had gotten into her daughter. Brad had just come in from the garden then, and he saw them, and the look on Page's face, and instinctively knew what had happened.
“Maybe you two should discuss this some other time,” he said quietly, and Page turned to him in fury.
“Don't you tell me what to do and what not to do, you sonofabitch. You're out fucking your brains out night and day, and now you want me to take this shit too? I'm not going to let her do this to me anymore.” She turned back to her mother then. “You can't play these games with me …you let him do what he did! You helped him! You let him into my room and locked the door, and told me I had to make Daddy happy … I was thirteen years old! Thirteen! And you made me sleep with my father! And Alexis was only too happy to turn her back on me, because he'd been doing it to her since she was twelve, and she was happy it was me and not her anymore! How dare you try and pretend that didn't happen! You're lucky I let you in my front door and I'm willing to see you.”
Maribelle looked at her, deathly pale, and Brad could see that she was shaking. “Those are terrible accusations, Page, and you know they're not true. Your father would never have done a thing like that.”
“He did and so did you, and you know it.” She turned away from them then, with her back to them, and sobbed, but Brad didn't dare approach her. She turned back to face her mother then with a look of outrage. “I spent years trying to get over it, trying to heal myself of what you'd done …and I could have lived with your telling me how sorry you were, how terrible you felt …but how can you try to pretend it never happened?”
Alexis wandered into the kitchen with absolutely no idea of what was going on. She had been calling David from her bedroom.
“Do you mind making me some camomile?” she asked Page sweetly, who let out a groan of disbelief as she leaned against the counter.
“I don't believe you. The two of you. You've spent so many years hiding from the truth that you can't face anything. You can't even open a fucking bottle of water for yourself. How can you live like that? How can you do this to yourselves?”
Alexis looked suddenly terrified as she looked around at them. “I'm sorry …I …never mind …”