Twenty-Five Years a Stand-In Wife

At twenty, Walter Swanson would drop his whole circle of friends for Hilda Gilbert, switch his college applications for her, take a disciplinary mark on his record just to surprise her.

The Walter after thirty was calm. Self-possessed.

Every matter had its own principle.

So what had made him change his mind?

I didn't get an answer until after he left and my son got up.

"Mom, Davina says her mother's back from abroad and wants to meet me."

Seeing my confusion, he went on.

"Davina's mom just got back last night and was recruited straight into the company you and Dad used to work at. You didn't know?"

"She and Dad even added each other on their phones last night."

For a moment my head went blank.

Until a message chime pulled my attention back.

"Don't forget Ms. Gilbert's birthday dinner tonight."

I hurried to change and went out to buy a gift.

Apart from invitations from Lillian Gilbert, the woman who had championed his career, Walter disliked any complicated social occasion.

Even our wedding.

Calm the whole way through, until we exchanged rings. Walter's ring paused, then paused again at the tip of my ring finger, and he said the only thing he said that day.

'From now on, I don't want her name in this house.'

Walter's parents, his friends, all of them, their smiles froze on their lips in an instant.

Everyone around him knew about Hilda Gilbert.

On the subway, holding the gift, I weighed my words again and again before texting Walter back.

"I bought a silk scarf."

I didn't ask whether he was going.

Over the years, we'd grown used to informing each other.

Knowing the other's plans, then accommodating them as much as possible.

Never discussing, never arguing. Just like business partners.

Lillian was hosting a family dinner.

In thirty years, we'd gone from colleagues to friends.

When I joined the company, I crossed paths with Walter again.

By then he had already changed, his whole life revolving around work.

And I revolved right along with him.

My numbers were strong, and Lillian made an exception and moved me to her side, training me into one of only two women in the company's upper ranks.

"Ann, why have you come on your own?"

Lillian took my hand. At sixty, she was still sharp.

"It's because of that woman who started at the company today, the same time as Walter."

She sighed and tried to comfort me.

"When you're young, everyone runs up a messy account or two."

Messy?

But the Walter who had been with Hilda Gilbert was the most dazzling I'd ever seen him in his whole life.

When Hilda got obsessed with some anime character, Walter dyed his whole head blond the next day.

Ridiculous, but he was too good-looking, and the photos went all over the school's network.

Hilda's birthday came around.

He treated the whole class to dinner, all so he could throw her a party during evening study hall.

"Hilda Gilbert, the first eighteen years, and the rest of my life, I'll spend it all with you!"

The candlelight lit up the boy's flushed, excited face.

And stung the eyes of countless girls who loved him in secret.

And now, looking at the candles on Lillian's cake.

My eyes ached again.

It hit me all at once.

So it turned out those candles had been burning in my heart for half my life.

Some things make you uncomfortable at first.

Given enough time, they all turn into habit.

The habit of staying at Walter's side in a faint, half-there way.

The habit of putting my son and my family ahead of myself.

Just like now, when my head was already so clouded.

And still, because of one text from my son.

"Mom, working late again. I want some soup."

I slipped out of the birthday dinner in a hurry.

But even after the soup was done, Walter still hadn't come home.

Passing the subway station near the company, I was suddenly seized by the urge to go find him.

Two days of agonizing, half a lifetime of putting it off, and at last I had the nerve to face those flames, to sit down and talk.

"Should I tell our son about the past between us and Davina's mother?"