The Good Wife Read Online Free PDF Page B

Not that he was a Brennan, but he had her brother’s and father’s athletic ability and he hoped to make it to the pros, like Sarah’s husband. “Why did she have to die?” he demanded.
    Meg shrugged. “Something about God’s plan.”
    “Don’t get mad at my language, but I think it’s a fucked-up plan.”
    “Can’t disagree, babe, but let’s not use foul language.”
    “But it is. She suffered so much—” He broke off, took a step away, and rubbed at his watering eyes. “So not right.”
    “No.”
    “Grandpa’s going to really miss her, won’t he?”
    Meg swallowed around the lump filling her throat. It’d been such a long, hard couple of months, but hopefully Mom was in a better place. Or at least, a place without pain. “Yeah. They’ve been together a long time.”
    “And they were happy, weren’t they? They always seemed to be in a good mood when they were together. Always laughing and joking around.”
    She nearly reached out to touch his jaw with the straggly chin stubble, his facial hair still light and thin, but crossed her arms instead, not wanting to invade his space. She’d learned that it was better to let him come to her, to reach for her, otherwise she could end up rejected. “They definitely enjoyed each other.”
    “Did they ever fight?”
    “They had their moments. Grandpa isn’t always easy to live with and Grandma was never a pushover, but they were committed to each other, and very committed to the family. It’s why their marriage worked.”
    “They were best friends, weren’t they?”
    “Yes.”
    JJ’s forehead creased and he stared across the room, to his desktop computer. “Were you and Dad ever like that? . . . Best friends?”
    Meg’s mouth opened, then closed. It took her a second to think back, to the early days of her marriage, and her first thought was how new and exciting it had all been, that big move with Jack to California, her state, which then made her reflect on how different it’d been for him and how uncomfortable he was with her large family. From the start he’d been overwhelmed by her tight-knit Brennan family and resisted their many traditions—family summers and holidays in Capitola at the beach house, big gatherings for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter, winter ski trips to Tahoe, brunches every Sunday, Saturday barbecues, baptisms, and ball games, never mind casual family dinners.
    No, Jack hadn’t enjoyed her family holidays and traditions. He’d never come out and said so, but she’d suspected that he found them a little too loud, a little too blue collar, a little Catholic. The Roberts family, which could trace its ancestors to the
Mayflower,
had been educated, affluent, and aloof, as well as fractured by a highly contentious divorce and custody battle that lasted for years, scarring Jack permanently.
    Meg had loved Jack anyway, adoring his brilliant mind and his talent for sensitive architectural preservation and design. She’d learned that he needed his space, and he was most creative when left to himself, and so she gave him his space and told herself that the space was good for her, too. She was, and always had been, very independent. She didn’t need a lot of attention. Mary Margaret Brennan Roberts excelled at self-sufficiency.
    “Your dad is still my best friend,” she said now to JJ, which stood for “Jack Jr.” “He’s amazing. There aren’t many people as smart as he is.”
    “I thought Aunt Kit was your best friend.”
    Megs suddenly felt the weight of the last week settle in her gut and burn in her chest. There were few people as loving and supportive as her sister Kit. “We are really close.”
    “So she is your best friend?”
    “Can’t a girl have two best friends?”
    “I guess.”
    Needing to escape, she kissed JJ’s cheek. “I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late, okay?”
    “I won’t. I can’t. I’ve got the last SAT study session and still have to take a pre-test in the