The Young Wives Club Read online

  Thunder boomed outside as the storm began rolling in. Silence fell over the girls as they watched the rain start to hit the window.

  Claire’s cell phone whistled and vibrated from her bag. It was a message from Gavin.

  I’m gonna be later than I thought. Meeting the guys to watch the game right now, so 11 or 12.

  Claire wanted so badly to believe him, but a warning bell went off in her head. After she’d confronted him about The Saddle, she’d been positive that he was telling the truth. She’d started working on herself and trying to be more present in their relationship. She’d asked her mom to take Sadie twice a week, so she and Gavin could have a few hours alone at night. She’d been reading his sermons, asking him about his day, and preparing his favorite meals, but she hadn’t really seen any changes. There was still some sort of wall between them. And this text felt off. He rarely stayed out that late without her.

  She bit her lip, debating what to do. She’d promised that she trusted Gavin, and she’d meant it. But she had to go with her gut here.

  She threw her phone back in her bag. “I have to go. I’m so sorry. Y’all stay, finish your dinners.”

  Gabby glanced up in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

  “Yeah, you have to tell us,” Madison demanded.

  Claire took a deep, shuddering breath and decided it was time to finally come clean to her friends. After all, if she couldn’t count on them, who could she count on? “I think you were right about Gavin, Mads. I caught him at the strip club.” She looked up toward the ceiling, frustration festering inside her.

  Laura grabbed her hand from across the table. “Oh, sweetie.”

  Claire sighed. “I asked him about it and he insisted he’s going for work, as part of church outreach.”

  Outrage flashed across Madison’s face. “Hold up—he really said that?”

  “I believed him at first, but now I think he might be lying,” Claire confessed. “I’m going to drive by the club. If he’s not there, I’ll know I was wrong and I’ll never doubt him again. But if he’s there—”

  “We’ll kick his ass,” Gabby interjected, rising to stand.

  “Obviously we’re going with you,” Laura said, grabbing her purse from her chair. Madison was already putting her jacket on.

  Claire wanted to say no, that she needed to do this herself, but she couldn’t bear to face this alone. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  After they paid the bill, they ran outside, dashing through the pouring rain to Claire’s car. The drive to The Saddle was quiet. When they reached the parking lot, they scanned the vehicles looking for Gavin’s truck. “Oh god, there it is,” Madison said, pointing out the truck with the RON PAUL bumper sticker.

  Claire felt her head spinning. Her stomach roiled like she was going to be sick.

  “Wait, let’s not jump to conclusions just yet,” Laura interjected. “Maybe he’s really helping that poor girl like he said he was.”

  “But . . .” Claire stared dazedly at Gavin’s truck. “Now that I know about this supposed girl, why wouldn’t he just tell me that was where he was? Why would he say he was watching the game with his friends?” A jolt of anger passed through her and she turned off the ignition in a swift move. “I’m going in.”

  “You got this,” Gabby said from the backseat.

  Claire threw open the door and stepped outside, running through the thunderstorm to the front door of the dingy club. Inside, the place reeked of cigarette smoke, and the tiled floors were sticky under her boots. The lighting was dim and anonymous. All she could see were the outlines of men watching a young brunette dance around the pole onstage to a rap song.

  Claire’s heart pumped in sync with the heavy bass. She slipped past one of the scantily clad women serving cocktails and scanned the room for Gavin. Nothing.

  In the back of the bar, she noticed a VIP room with the black velvet curtain drawn closed. Maybe, just maybe, he was in there, counseling the stripper he’d told her about. If that was the case, she’d forgive him for all the lies. But, if she found him in there doing anything else . . . she didn’t even know what would happen.

  As she approached the room she realized the curtain was gaping open just enough for her to see in. Claire looked around the strip club, making sure that no one was watching her, and then peered through the curtains. There was a stripper on a man’s lap, facing her. The stripper’s obvious implants were pointing in Claire’s direction, and Claire blushed. She couldn’t see behind the girl’s mass of blond hair; all she could see was her hot pink thong and the man’s legs—he was wearing brown leather dress shoes and dark navy slacks. Claire leaned in a little closer, and at that moment, the girl flipped around toward the man. His face came into perfect focus.

  Gavin.

  Claire covered her mouth and stumbled back, tears beginning to stream down her face, and ran away from the curtain before either of them noticed her. In a daze, she wove her way through the dark club and out the door. For a moment, she just stood there, sobbing as the heavy rain poured down over her.

  Then a car door slammed and Madison, Laura, and Gabby rushed toward her, surrounding her in a tight hug. Laura wrapped her arm around her waist and led her back to the car.

  When they were all buckled in, Gabby finally spoke. “What do you need us to do?”

  “We’re here for you, Claire,” Laura added. “Anything. Anything at all.”

  Her mouth was dry and she felt shell-shocked, but she mustered up the energy to respond. “Thank you. But there’s nothing y’all can do right now. Just be there for me when I call.”

  • • •

  “YOU LOOK LIKE hell,” Jillian said, putting her iPad down on the coffee table as Claire walked in the front door. Her hair was wet and curly from the rain. “Come in, get warm.” She grabbed Claire’s shoulders and led her into the living room, wrapping a blanket around her. “Why do you look so upset?”

  Claire began crying into her mom’s shoulder.

  Jillian rubbed her back. “What’s wrong, sweetie? Gavin again?”

  Claire nodded as her tears fell. “He lied to me,” she said finally, shaking her head in disbelief. “I caught him at the strip club again.” She closed her eyes, trying to get rid of the image, but all she could see was the stripper’s hot pink thong and Gavin’s face, his eyes locked onto that girl’s implants.

  “Oh, honey,” her mom said. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t see this coming.”

  “You and me both, Ma.” Claire slouched into the couch. She told her mother everything—how he’d lied and how she’d found him getting a lap dance. “He’s strayin’, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Her mind flashed forward to her worst-case scenario, her life spiraling downhill. There’d be hard days and nights of raising Sadie by herself, just like her mom had done with her. And she was going to have to find another job, wasn’t she? She couldn’t work with Gavin anymore if they got divorced.

  Jillian handed her a Kleenex. “You’re really just gonna give up like that? Sweetie, there is something you can do about it. You just have to. He’s the father of your baby, and she needs her daddy,” she said with a steely look in her eyes. “Believe me—I’ve been there. I love being your mother, but being a single mom was so hard. You need to try to make it work—for both you and Sadie.”

  Claire blew into the tissue, her eyes burning from all the tears. “But how? I don’t even know what went wrong in the first place. Why would he throw away our marriage like that?”

  Her mom nodded. “Think about it, Claire. It’s not necessarily his fault.”

  “I know, Mama. I know you think it’s mine. But I’ve been trying, I swear.”

  “No . . .” Her mom paused. “Maybe it’s her fault.” She stood up and paced around the living room. “Gavin’s a good Christian boy. I just don’t see him doing anything to hurt your marriage on purpose. Maybe he did go there to help her, and maybe she seduced him.”

  Claire gasped. Suddenly, this whole confusing mess
started to become more clear. “I could believe it,” she said, throwing the flannel blanket off of her shoulders. She felt comfort thinking that it wasn’t her fault—and it wasn’t even Gavin’s. It was someone else’s entirely.

  Her mom stopped pacing, turned to Claire, and put her hand on her hips. “You’ve tried talking to him. Maybe it’s time you confronted her.”

  26

  laura

  LAURA’S HEART ACHED for Claire as she drove home from The Saddle. She couldn’t wrap her mind around what Gavin had done. He and Claire had always seemed so solid and loving, and she would never have pegged Gavin as the straying type. He was a pastor, for goodness’ sake, and the type of husband who always remembered their anniversary and enjoyed taking their daughter to the zoo. Why would he throw it all away over for a cheap lap dance at a roadside strip club? As much as it pained her to see her friend’s marriage crumbling, it made her problems with Brian seem less severe.

  The thought stayed with her until she was at home and found Brian sitting in their dark bedroom, staring at the computer. A virtual poker game was on the screen and a half-empty bottle of his dad’s bourbon sat on the table next to him, a glass of it in his hand. Laura’s stomach clenched. Shooting star be damned—he was breaking his promise to her already.

  Brian’s bloodshot eyes slid over to her as she walked in. “Hey,” he slurred.

  Laura put her hand over her mouth. “What happened?” she said softly, kneeling down next to him. “I thought you quit drinkin’?”

  He stared at her, his hair sticking out in messy tufts, as if he had been pulling at it all night. “It’s gone,” he finally said, lowering his head.

  “What’s gone?” Laura’s voice cracked in fear of what he was about to say.

  “The money. I lost it all.” He slammed his fist on the desk.

  Laura’s heart beat wildly as her mind spun to comprehend. “What do you mean, you lost it all?”

  “All of it, Laura,” he shouted. “All twelve thousand dollars.”

  She stumbled back, colliding painfully with the bed frame. He was joking, right? That was six months’ worth of savings. Six months of no privacy, of dealing with his mom poking her head into their room every morning. Dear God, let him be joking. But as she stared at him and his desperate expression, she knew it had to be true.

  “How?” she whispered.

  “Poker,” he said slowly. He buried his face in his hands. “I got a bad hand and tried to win it back but kept getting bad ones. I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

  A cold numbness spread through Laura’s chest. “You just have to win it back.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to do that without any money?” he asked, his voice shaking.

  Laura glanced at the desk, where her plastic name tag from the Sea Shack stared back at her. So many nights of sweet tea spills on her clothes, the stench of crawfish in her hair, and Bible verses in lieu of tips . . . And for what? For Brian to give it all away to some faceless Internet jackass living in his grandma’s basement in Idaho?

  She let out a low scream and stood up, pacing back and forth.

  Brian took another sip of the bourbon.

  “Dammit, Brian. Stop it!” She grabbed the glass out of his hand and her voice raised. “Do you realize what you’re doing to your life? To mine? I’ve given up everything to support you. I quit school and got married to you, moved back here, worked my ass off to help you pay for this surgery. And for what? You’ve thrown our future away.” Her entire body trembled in anger.

  “Oh really? It’s all my fault? You’re making it out that you’re the victim, Laura.” He took the drink out of her hand and put it down on the desk. “But guess what—I’m the victim. I’m the one who got handed the bad cards, literally. And if you can’t support me through that, then what kind of wife are you?”

  She felt like she’d been sucker punched, and her mouth fell open. He could accuse her of being unhappy at his parents’ house, or of being overly focused on school . . . but that was over the line. “Are you freaking serious? You’re really gonna say that I don’t know how to support you? After all I’ve given up?”

  “It’s not a competition,” he argued. “We’ve both made sacrifices.”

  She scowled at him. “What sacrifices have you made? Sitting around here all day playing video games? Getting drunk with Kenny? I know you didn’t ask to get hurt, but what the hell are you doing to fix it?” The sternness in her voice surprised even Laura.

  Brian lowered his head like a scolded dog. “Look, Laur—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He hobbled over to her and put his arms around her neck. “I love you so much. You know I can’t do this without you.”

  She shoved him off of her. “Here’s the thing, it’s your surgery,” she reminded him. “You can’t have it if we don’t have the money. It affects you more than me.”

  “I’m still holding out for the insurance appeal,” he said hopefully.

  Laura scoffed. “We haven’t heard a peep since we filed the paperwork. There’s no way we can count on that.” For the first time, she felt a seed of resentment that he didn’t just take the surgery the school would have paid for. Maybe he’d never play football again, but he would’ve been able to stay in school through the physical therapy and get his degree. And at least they wouldn’t have been in this mess—living with his parents without a dime to their names.

  “We’ll come up with somethin’.” He moved to kiss her on her forehead, but she sidestepped away.

  She looked back up at him. “No—you come up with somethin’. You lost the money, now it’s up to you to get it back.”

  With that, she stormed out to the bathroom to get ready for bed, her heart still pounding with fury. When she returned, Brian was passed out on the bed, his drunken snores vibrating the mattress. She sat next to him, wishing it weren’t too late to call her mom.

  She leaned her head back on the pillow and thought back to a conversation she and her mom had the night before her wedding. The two of them lay in her parents’ bed, wearing matching floral pajamas that her dad had gotten them for Christmas the year before.

  “How are you feeling?” Angela had asked as they ate leftover chocolate-covered pralines from the rehearsal dinner.

  “A little bloated from those baked beans, but I think I’ll be okay,” Laura said, rubbing her belly.

  Her mom laughed. “What bride eats a whole bowl of barbecue baked beans before her wedding day? Oh, sweet child . . . who raised you?”

  Laura giggled and threw a praline that bounced off her mom’s shoulder and onto the navy and white duvet.

  Angela’s smile slowly faded as she began fidgeting with the covers. It reminded Laura of that awkward “if you’re having sex, you should be on birth control” talk she had given her when she was fifteen.

  “I think moms are supposed to give the bride advice on her wedding eve night,” she said, grabbing Laura’s hand. “At least that’s what that little booklet that came with my mother-of-the-bride dress said.”

  Laura snuggled into the bed and braced herself for a pep talk.

  “I raised an independent girl, and I wanna make sure she stays that way, even though she’s gettin’ married.” She pushed a lock of hair behind Laura’s ear. “It’s something I’ve made a point to do myself, and I’m so happy I did it. I know you’re gonna take this the wrong way, but please don’t. The best advice I ever got was from my crazy aunt Mary.”

  Laura smiled. Crazy Aunt Mary had died in a freak horseback riding accident on the family farm. She had only seen pictures and heard stories about her but knew her mom secretly worshipped this chain-smoking free-spirited hippie.

  “Well, when I was fifteen, she pulled me aside at the Sugarcane Festival Fais-dodo and told me that when I was married, I needed to have enough money in my savings to leave my husband if I ever wanted to.”

  “That’s pretty bleak,” Laura said.

  Angela pursed her lips. “I think she was in a horrible marriage—he
r husband was a jerk to all of us, so I could only imagine how he was to her behind closed doors. But she didn’t work, so it’s not like she had any money to just pick up and leave him.”

  “But Brian’s not a jerk,” Laura said, narrowing her eyes and wondering what her mom was getting at.

  “I think you’re missing the point here.” Her mom laced her fingers through Laura’s. “It was always important that I work so that I could have my own savings account, just in case.”

  “But you and Dad have an amazing marriage . . . right?” Laura asked, confused.

  “Heck yeah we do!” Her mom held her shoulders back proudly. “But there’s a certain security and confidence to having my own money and my own worth. I love your daddy, but I also love feeling independent and capable. If the worst ever comes to pass, I’ll be all right.”

  At the time, Laura hadn’t been sure about her mom’s advice. She understood wanting to feel independent, but somehow it felt like giving up before they even got started. But after everything that had happened tonight with Brian, she wondered if it wasn’t a bad idea.

  For the first time since they moved back to Toulouse, Laura admitted honestly to herself that the surgery wasn’t a guarantee. What would happen if Brian’s knee wasn’t fixed and he didn’t go back to college? Not only would his future be ruined, but so would Laura’s. She’d hitched her star to someone else’s wagon, only for all the wheels to fall clean off.

  27

  madison

  “ARE YOU OKAY, honey?” Allen asked, joining Madison at the kitchen table. Her dad had caught her staring off into space, her Cheerios getting soggy in the bowl of milk.

  She wanted to say no, to tell him everything about George. When she’d handed her dad that $2,500 last week, he’d been blown away and immediately asked where it had come from. She knew he’d never accept it if he discovered what she’d done, so she’d lied and said she’d pawned some of her thrift store jewelry and one of the necklaces she got for a dollar turned out to be real pearls with 18 karat white gold.