said. “I will not excuse you. Why didn’t you give it back to Jenna? What
is it doing here?”
“She was in a hurry, remember? She and Stuart raced away in that cab.”
What Doug remembered was standing out on Greenwich Avenue trying to hail Jenna and
Stuart a cab, but having no luck. That far downtown, cabs were impossible to find.
What Doug remembered was considering asking the maître d’ to call a car service for
the kids, but then at the last moment a cab appeared, and Jenna and Stuart hopped
in it. But there had been a full ten minutes, maybe longer, with the four of them
outside on the sidewalk. And Pauline had had the Notebook; she had probably stuffed
it into one of the enormous purses she liked to carry.
“She wasn’t in a hurry,” Doug said. “We waited around for goddamned ever for that
cab. I’m not wrong about that, am I?”
“I forgot to give it back to her,” Pauline said. “I meant to, but then we were so
caught up in trying to get them a cab, I forgot.”
“You forgot?” Doug said.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
Pauline nodded once, with conviction. That was her story and she was sticking to it.
As Arthur Tonelli’s bathroom filled with steam, Doug realized something. He realized
that he did not love Pauline. It was possible that he had never loved Pauline. On
Monday, once the wedding was over and they were safely back home, he was going to
ask Pauline for a divorce.
He turned and walked out. It felt good to have made that decision.
Pauline must have sensed something dire because she shut off the water, wrapped herself
in a towel, and followed him out.
“I need you to believe me,” she said.
Doug watched her clutch the towel to her chest. Her thick, dark hair, out of its ponytail,
fell in damp ropes over her shoulders.
“I do believe you,” he said.
“You do?”
“Yes,” he said. “You’ve presented a plausible argument. Jenna left behind the Notebook,
you wisely scooped it up, and amidst all the brouhaha of trying to flag a taxi, you
forgot to return it to her.”
Pauline exhaled. “Yes.”
“My question now is, did you read it?”
As Pauline stared at him, he watched conflicting emotions cross her face. He was an
attorney; he dealt every day with people who wanted to lie to him.
“Yes,” she admitted. “I read it.”
“You read it.” He had no reason to be surprised, but he was anyway.
“It was driving me crazy,” Pauline said. “The Notebook this, the Notebook that, what
‘Mom’ wrote in the Notebook. Your daughters—and you, too, Douglas—treated the thing
like the fifth gospel. Jenna wouldn’t accept one suggestion—
not one
—from me. She only wanted to follow what was in the goddamned Notebook. And I wanted
to see exactly what that was. I wanted to see what Beth had to say.”
Doug didn’t like hearing his second wife speak his first wife’s name. This had always
been true.
“So you read it?” Doug said. “You read it today? While I was at work?”
“Yes,” Pauline said. “And I have to say, Beth covered all the bases. She let Jenna
know exactly what she wanted—down to the pattern of the silver, down to the song you
and Jenna should dance to, down to the earrings Jenna should wear with ‘the dress.’
It was the most blatant exercise in mind control I have ever seen. Beth planned her
own
wedding. She didn’t leave anything for Jenna to decide.”
Doug wondered if Pauline had read the last page. He wondered what the last page said.
“I think those were meant to be suggestions,” Doug said, feeling defensive.
“
Suggestions?
” Pauline said. “Beth flat-out
told
Jenna what to do.”
“Jenna is a strong person,” Doug said. “If she had disagreed with something Beth wrote,
she would have changed it.”
“And go against the wishes of her dead mother?” Pauline said. “Never.”
“Hey now,” Doug said. “That’s out of line.”
“I offered to take Jenna out to