The First Wives Club Read Online Free PDF Page A

them. She’ll wind up a complete vegetable.”
    “Aaron, please. We’re not talking about a state institution. We’re talking about a private, sheltered community. We’ve been through this before.”
    ”Look, we’ll get you some more help. Ernesta isn’t enough.”
    “That’s not it. I don’t need more help. It’s Sylvie, Aaron. She needs to be with other people like her. She’s too lonely, Aaron.
    She’s too isolated.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s with you all the time.” He sounded bitter.
    Annie sighed. “That’s the problem. She’s too dependent. She on me.”
    And maybe I on her, she thought to herself. How will I fill my days without Sylvie?
    “Aaron, please. We’ve been through this a hundred times. Not now.”
    “Fine.” He was brusque.
    She knew that tone. She had hurt him. Oh, God, this wasn’t what she wanted.
    “I’ve got to get back to the office,” he said. Then he turned away.
    Turned away and walked out the doors of Campbell’s without a kind word for Cynthia or any comfort for herself. These men! she thought.
    Emotional cripples.
    Annie looked away from Aaron’s retreating back to see a receiving line of sorts with Gil Griffin standing there, shaking hands and accepting condolences. Annie felt herself begin to tremble. “How could he?”
    she asked, meaning both Aaron and Gil. How could they?
    She had not directed the question to anyone, but Brenda, who had come up behind her, answered it, “Easy, when you’re a hypocritical reptile.”
    Dazed, Annie moved along with the others. God, the last thing she wanted to do was talk to Gil right now. No, the last thing she wanted was to go to the cemetery, seeing Gil now was bad, but not as bad as that. What possible excuse could he have for missing the service? And now, showing up for this farce. It was an insult, no, worse than an insult. Well, surely he’d see Cynthia to her grave.
    When Annie reached Gil, she didn’t extend her hand, but Gil took it anyway.
    “Thank you, Anne,” he said. Her fingers were cold, his hand surprisingly warm.
    She withdrew her hand, Elise, who was beside her, folded her own hands behind her back. ‘Hello, Gil,” she said coolly.
    Annie, as always, was embarrassed by the contretemps. “Do you want me to ride with you to the cemetery?” she heard herself ask. Here I go again, the ultimate good girl, she thought. And it was the ultimate sacrifice, but she could stand it.
    ”Oh, I can’t make it out to Greenwich, now.”
    ”What?” Brenda asked. Even tough Brenda sounded shocked.
    “I can’t make it. I’m double-booked as it is. It was very difficult getting here at all.”
    “Obviously,” Annie said coldly. “You didn’t make it in time for the service and now you’re not going to the burial?”
    ”It’s none of your business, really,” said Gil calmly. He began to turn away from the three of them.
    ”Gil, please come to the cemetery. It would matter to Cynthia.” il paused and looked down at her, his head tilted, birdlike, quizzical.
    Then he smiled grimly. “It matters very little. She’s dead, you know.” He walked away.
    Annie stood silently in the hall between her two friends, breathing heavily.
    Then she began to tremble.
    When Brenda and Elise left, Annie was still trembling. All the other funeral guests had gone, and Annie found she was the only one going to the graveside.
    She said good-bye to Elise and watched Brenda walk up Madison Avenue in the light rain that was beginning to fall. She told Hudson to get directions in case they were separated from the hearse. As he returned with an umbrella and helped her into the limo, Stuart Swann, Cynthia’s brother, approached. Annie hadn’t seen him in years, but she recognized him immediately. He’s still nice looking, she thought, but dissipated. She noted his red-rimmed eyes and flaccid skin.
    “Hello, Stuart.” She extended her hand politely, although she didn’t feel like it. Why hadn’t he made it to the