Five Years of Marriage to Mr. Bradford novel · Chapter 3 of 24
Chapter 3: The Wrong Mrs. Bradford
At the benefit the host introduces Imogen as Mrs. Bradford, Leah toasts her graciously and tells Leonard what she knows about the third; he does not deny it.
I drank my water in the dark kitchen and went back to bed without saying a word.
Leonard was asleep with his arm across my side of the mattress.
I lay beside it until morning.
On Thursday night I wore the green dress to the Harbor Society benefit.
The ballroom of the Langham was full of men in black tie and women who had known Leonard since he was in short pants.
His mother met us at the door.
She kissed the air beside my cheek and looked at my shoes.
"Leah. You came."
"I live with him," I said. "I thought I should."
She did not smile.
She was a tall woman with silver hair and a pearl collar, and in five years she had never once said my name without a pause before it.
"You're at fourteen," she said. "Near the kitchen doors. Imogen needs the head table, with her leg."
"Of course."
Leonard heard that part.
His jaw tightened.
"Mother, my wife sits with me."
"The seating chart is printed, Leonard."
He looked at me.
I put my hand lightly on his sleeve.
"It's fine. I'll be near the bread."
Imogen arrived on a stranger's arm and her face lit when she saw me.
"You wore it. Oh, Leah, look at you."
She hugged me before she took her seat at the head table, and her cane tapped against my ankle.
"Come sit with us at the dessert," she whispered.
I thanked her and went to table fourteen.
My neighbors were a retired judge and his wife, who taught me how to tell a good oyster from a tired one.
I enjoyed them more than I had enjoyed anyone at Bradford events in five years.
Across the room, Leonard kept turning in his chair to find me.
Each time, I raised my glass an inch.
Each time, he turned back looking worse.
After the main course the host took the microphone.
He was a round, cheerful man who had been to our wedding.
"And now, a thank-you to our honorary chair for the evening. Ladies and gentlemen, Leonard Bradford and Mrs. Bradford."
Imogen was on her feet.
She had her hand on the table, and her mouth was already open to say it was a mistake.
The host went on.
"Mrs. Bradford has been through so much this year, and we are all so proud of how she has carried it. Come up, both of you."
Four hundred people applauded.
A few of them turned to look at table fourteen, and then looked away.
The judge's wife put her hand over mine.
"Dear, that man is an idiot," she said. "Whatever you do next, do it slowly."
I stood up.
The room was still clapping, and Leonard was staring at me across the ballroom with his face drained white.
Imogen had gone red to her hairline.
"Leah, I never," she began, and her voice shook. "He got it wrong. I'd never."
"I know you wouldn't."
I picked up my glass and walked to the head table.
The host held out the microphone, because he did not know what else to do.
I took it.
"Thank you," I said, and my voice came out clear. "I'm the other Mrs. Bradford."
A ripple of laughter and then silence.
"I'd like to propose a toast to Imogen Shaw, who has carried a great deal and made it look easy. And to my husband, for carrying her."
I lifted my glass toward them.
Imogen's eyes were full.
Leonard did not move.
His mother had gone rigid at the next table.
Then somebody started clapping, and the whole room joined in, and I handed the microphone back to the host and walked out.
I went to the coat room and gave the girl my ticket.
I was putting on my wrap when Leonard came in behind me and shut the door.
"Leah."
"You should go back. She's alone out there."
"I'm so sorry about the introduction. It's my mother, she told him to, I'll fix it, I'll have it corrected."
"It's correct enough."
"What does that mean?"
I turned around.
He was very close, and his tie was loose, and his breath was uneven.
"You've never asked me where I go on the third," I said.
"I tell you. Conferences. Boston, Chicago, New York."
"I've never asked you where, not once, in five years. Do you know why?"
His face did something I had never seen on it.
He looked afraid.
"Why?"
"Because I knew you wouldn't tell me the truth."
"Leah."
"I know where you go every year on the third, Leonard."
His hand closed on the back of a chair.
"Where do you think I go?"
I held his eyes and waited for him to say it was not what I thought.
"To her," I said.
He opened his mouth.
He shut it.
He did not say no.
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