Chapters (47)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Epigraphs
- Prologue
- Part One
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- Part Two
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
“My wife,” Anthony said. “She’s a wonderful woman, but she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She doesn’t know hardship.”
Ann saw Maureen standing in the doorway clutching her purse, looking hurt. Suddenly Ann ached for her: it wasn’t her fault that she was born into money. It wasn’t wrong of her to try to make their home nice, and everything she did was for Anthony. She didn’t seem to know what else she was supposed to do with herself. “I’m ready,” Maureen said, looking hopeful and anxious. She walked toward the front door and jiggled the handle. “You said you wanted to let the tiger out of the cage.”
“My date with the zookeeper awaits.” He opened the door for Maureen, but before he ushered her out, he looked at Ann and said, “Don’t you think this is a terrific dress my wife is wearing?”
Ann nodded, afraid her blush was obvious. “It’s great.”
“Tell me, would you ever wear a dress like this, Ann?”
“Yeah,” Ann said. “Sure.”
Maureen seemed genuinely touched and even more grateful for Anthony’s attention. “You’re so dear,” she said, and her words made Ann feel that she was caught up in something complicated and awkward.
Maureen stepped outside and Anthony stalled at the door. He gave Ann a little wave. Just like that, Ann become part of a secret—an adult secret.
SEVEN
Michael
The Shaws were all Ann talked about when she was home, although she was hardly ever home. He couldn’t give a shit that Maureen—Mo now—drank basil-and-lemon-infused water and ate cucumber sandwiches without crusts, or that she’d let Ann drive her Jag, or that she was the kind of person who made sure her napkins matched the colors of the flowers in her bouquets, or that her kids’ allowance was fifty bucks a month for doing absolutely nothing.
And then there was the dad, who sounded like a real number. Ann said his name, Anthony, with a certain lilt in her voice that made Michael squirm inside. It was as if she’d been on a first-name basis with the guy her whole life. She said he was very busy, as if not being around your family was a sign of success. Ann said he ran the family business as if she were a Shaw herself. She didn’t even know what their family business did. She just loved the idea of a family fucking business.
Anthony this, Anthony that. Anthony drove his Jeep on Nauset Beach. Anthony chartered fishing boats. Well, guess what? Ed chartered a fishing boat, too, only Ann didn’t know that, and Michael wasn’t about to tell her. Besides, he was sworn to secrecy. Ed told Connie that they were out conducting “research,” but really, they were fishing, spending money Ed said he really shouldn’t spend.