Chapter 4: The Wife's Tale

The sprawling old farmhouse with a spectacular view of the Adirondack Mountains was painted a cheerful yellow. It was surrounded on three sides by a wraparound porch, complete with the old-fashioned rocking chairs, a porch swing, a low table with a chess board set up. This looks like an ad for Pottery Barn or LL Bean or some shit I could never afford, Janine thought. All that's missing is a mint julip or some iced tea on the table.

The fourth side of the house backed to a forest. Jack had stopped their car on the long driveway, hidden from view of the house by a heavy cover of trees. Then they walked. The Commander didn't know anything about this, he told Janine quietly, nor could he. Same with the rest of the household. The Wife was the only Underground Femaleroad contact here.

In their matching black outfits, the pair approached from the forest. Acorns crunched under Janine's feet—she still wore her leather handmaid boots—as they headed for a small building located about a hundred yards from the main house. "Is this for guests?" she whispered.

"It's supposed to be quarters for the Commander's driver," Jack whispered back. "Used to be a stable, still smells a little horsey. And since their driver is allergic to animal hair, he sleeps in the main house."

There was a combination padlock on the stable's door. Jack opened it with practiced fingers. He knows this place pretty well, Janine thought idly. Wonder how many women he's brought here.

"Here you go, your new home," Jack said with a sweep of his hand and a gentleman's bow. He closed the door behind them.

She stepped inside and cooed with happiness. Hardwood floors, white drywall, wooden crossbeams decorating the ceiling. Just one big room, with a basic kitchen on one side, a four-poster bed on the other. Crocheted pillows and a fluffy quilt. Not at all Janine's style in the time before, but a whole hell of a lot nicer than Jezebel's or the Red Center. A lot more peaceful as well, she hoped. "This is…perfect. Thank you." She knew he didn't live here, but still felt the need to thank someone, either Jack or God, and God hadn't done shit for her lately.

"Sorry I couldn't get you here sooner," he said modestly. "Skye wanted to use you as long as she could."

"She's just as bad as the Commanders. They all just want to fuck me over."

"Yeah." He winced. "Skye has had a really hard life. Lots of abuse. Not trying to excuse her, but…well, maybe I am trying to excuse her."

"The abused became the abuser. I get it. All women in Gilead use every bit of power they can take, and it makes us all into cunts." She thought briefly of June, how bossy she'd become, especially since they'd gotten those kids onto the airplane. Bossy, furious, and homicidal. Totally different than the sweet, scared woman she'd met in the Red Center.

He didn't argue that point. "Better days are ahead of you, Susie, I promise." His blue eyes shone with sincerity.

The door behind them opened gently, revealing a woman around Janine's age wearing the teal dress of a Wife. Before Janine could even say hello, the woman flung herself into Jack's arms. He embraced her, lifting her small frame off the ground as they kissed.

"Hey there, Pen," he whispered into her ear. She nuzzled his neck and murmured something Janine didn't think she should hear. Embarrassed, she headed for the bathroom, the only private place in the little stable house.

"Susie," Jack called before she'd gotten quite out of view. "This is Penelope Caruso. Pen, Susie."

Janine turned around, bent her head and folded her hands the way a handmaid was supposed to greet a Wife. "Blessed morning, ma'am."

"Hey, Susie," the Wife said breezily, one arm still wrapped around Jack. "You don't have to ma'am me. You can relax here. We're all equals."

Janine almost collapsed in relief. She looked up at Penelope and grinned. "Okay."

"There's a fresh towel for you in the bath, some clothes in the dresser, and a sandwich in the fridge. Make yourself at home. I'll be back this afternoon to talk to you. But, uh, since the Commander isn't here right now, we're going to…well, we'll see you later." She smiled and shrugged at Janine, then pulled Jack urgently by the hand out the door and, presumedly, into the main house.

"Good for them," Janine told herself aloud, trying not to be jealous as she explored her new surroundings.

Penelope returned to Janine's stable house in the afternoon, as promised, bringing a plate of muffins, salami, and cheese. "Not much of a dinner, sorry," she said.

"Oh, no worries, this is great. More than I've eaten in weeks." Already familiar with 'her' kitchen, Janine set the small table for two, then sliced the salami. "Has Jack gone back to New Hampshire?"

"Yeah, he just left." There was wistful longing in the Wife's voice. She brushed a long strand of blonde hair out of her face, tucked it back into the prim bun most wives wore.

"He's so nice. The girls at Jezebel's call him one of the few good men left in Gilead. How do you know him?"

"We lived together for eight months, before. I kept bugging him to get married, but he always said we didn't need to rush things. We were only twenty-six, just starting our careers. I was getting a lot of pressure from my family to dump Jack and marry someone well-connected and politically reliable. My brother David, he was an early convert to the Sons of Jacob, and my parents were die-hard conservatives. Thanksgiving dinners were super rough for a few years. Then my bank accounts suddenly got transferred to my father's name, and I finally realized what the hell was happening to women."

"Oh yeah, I remember that day."

"David had a single friend in the local Sons of Jacob chapter. One of those mama's boy incels who wanted a unicorn wife—submissive but smart, rich but unemployed, a bimbo to stay home and have his babies. My brother talked to this guy about me and had sworn I was that unicorn and if I knew what was good for me in this new regime, I'd marry him right away. Anyway, to make a long story short…."

"No, please, don't shorten it," Janine begged. "It's not like I've got somewhere to be."

"You want the long version?"

"Please."

"Okay. Where was I?"

"David's incel friend."

"Right. Anthony Caruso. Tony to his friends, which I wasn't. My parents were telling me I was an idiot not to settle down with a proper man, though I kept telling them I was in love with Jack. See, my parents didn't like him; he was an ER nurse, which they saw as a gay man's job, and Jack was involved all sorts of 'liberal bleeding heart' causes which they didn't like. So they were constantly criticizing him to me, trying to wear me down. I guess it had an effect.

"Just after the President's Day Massacre, Jack and I had a pretty big fight. An ex-girlfriend of his knocked on our door in the middle of the night. She was a doctor—an abortion provider—and she asked us to hide her. I thought she was just being dramatic, though in retrospect, you know, I was being ridiculous. I also knew Jack liked the role of savior, even to his exes. So, we had a big fight, and he told me he wouldn't just abandon her when her life was in danger. I felt like he was choosing her over me.

"I went to my parents' house to cool off for a few days. My father and brother told me a lot about the goals of the Sons of Jacob, what was in store for women. I hadn't really understood it until then, and I was panicky. David brought Anthony over for Sunday night dinner, and they, along with my parents, kinda ganged up on me and convinced me I should get married if I wanted to keep my freedom. That's how they phrased it: my freedom. As if women were going to be able to hang on to anything like freedom. Well, I eloped with Anthony the next day."

"No," Janine protested.

"Stupidest thing I've ever done in my life, Susie, truly. I went back to our apartment, to tell Jack what I'd done. Before I even said a word, he apologized about his ex, told me he'd thrown her out even though she had nowhere else to go, told me how much he loved me and all…and I interrupted him to say we were done. He was so sad. Heartbroken. I packed up all my stuff and left. Then he called his ex back, on the rebound, I guess. A friend of ours told me she stayed with him until they were both arrested a few weeks later. She was executed. Jack ended up released, but lost his job at the hospital. He got assigned as a driver. Anthony became a Commander, and, well, here I am."

"With your freedom."

Penelope laughed in despair. "Yeah, right. At least I survived the Revolution. If I'd stayed with Jack, we probably would've been assigned to be econopeople…but we would've been together." She paused to drink some water. "A year later, I got involved with the Underground, and who showed up to drive a woman up north, but Jack."

"Had he forgiven you?"

"Oh, yeah. We took one long look at each other, and all was forgiven."

Janine sighed. "I like happy endings."

"Yeah, well, we're still in frigging Gilead. Jack lives in a different state, in a brothel, while I'm married to a man I can't stand."

"Yeah, okay, but aside from those details, it's a happy ending."

"True."

Penelope came by the following afternoon—as soon as the Martha went shopping—bringing more food and much-appreciated conversation. This time, her two children also came along. Same blond hair and porcelain blue eyes as their mother, like the dolls Janine remembered having as a kid.

"This is Simon," Penelope said. "Can you wave to the nice lady?" She added with a shrug, "He doesn't talk much yet. But he's a very smart boy. He's always listening."

The boy was a little younger than Angela, Janine thought. Two and a half, maybe. He ducked shyly behind his mother. "Blessed day, sweet pea," she said in the singsong voice she used with children. He giggled at the appellation, peeked out at her. She waved and smiled. He waved back. "Well, you'll just start talking when you're good and ready. No rush, Simon."

"That's right, no rush. And this is Francesca." She shifted the baby in her arms. "The name means 'free.' I'm optimistic about her future."

"You've got to be. She's what, a year old?"

"Eleven months. You must have children."

"Two," Janine said softly, without elaboration. She took Francesca's hand in hers, smooched her tiny fingers.

Penelope didn't pry; she knew damn well what happened to handmaids' children. "Would you like to hold her? She's a cuddler."

"Oh, yes. Come here, baby girl." She stretched her arms out, fitting the child's head easily against her shoulder. "Come meet Auntie Janine."

Penelope ignored the slip; she'd always figured 'Susie' was a pseudonym. "Well," she said finally, "Simon brought you a bag of goodies," indicating the food. "My husband is hosting a dinner party tonight, so please be sure not to use any lights, not even a candle, just to be safe."

"Early bedtime for me, I guess."

"I'm sorry."

"Penelope, please don't apologize. This is the nicest place I've been in since…since Gilead began, okay? And I'm enjoying my alone time, believe me." She nuzzled the baby in her arms. "Although I can babysit for a bit, if you want to hang out with Simon." She looked at the boy. "Maybe you two can play a game of hide-and-seek in the forest?"

He nodded enthusiastically at his mother.

"That sounds good. Let's do that as soon as your sister falls asleep for nap, okay?" To Janine, she said, "If I leave her here, she might cry. The Martha would come running. Thanks for the offer, though. Tomorrow night, by the way, we're getting you on a boat. The dinner party tonight delayed the plan, but don't worry, I'm on it."

"Awesome."

"And, uh, I'll bring you the dinner leftovers tomorrow morning. We're having a five-course meal."

Leftovers didn't appear until the next afternoon, during the children's naptime. By then, Janine's belly was grumbling unhappily, but she lost her appetite as soon as her benefactor entered the stable house. Penelope's jaw and left eye were bruised purple, there were finger marks around her neck, and she was moving in obvious pain. She sat gingerly at the kitchen table.

"What the actual fuck," Janine breathed.

Penelope handed her the bag of food. "The party didn't go well," she said.

"Obviously."

"One of the visiting Commanders was a doctor. After he got good and drunk, he asked my husband whose kids were running around the house. He meant Simon and Francesca. Naturally my husband said they were his. And the doctor was like, no way, impossible." Janine brought her a cup of tea, which she drank gratefully. "See, Anthony, he's one hundred percent Italian. Dark hair, brown eyes, chest hair like a monkey. The doctor started explaining genetics, how there was no way his kids could have blue eyes and so on."

"They're Jack's," Janine breathed. Of course.

"Yeah, praise be. I'm not sure I could love them otherwise."

Yes, you could, Janine thought, but kept that opinion to herself.

"Anthony was totally humiliated, of course. So the minute the guests left, he started beating on me, wanting to know who I'd been out whoring with. I just played dumb, denied it all, but he could tell I was lying. Then I made matters even worse, much worse, by covering my belly as he hit me." She shook her head dejectedly. "I'm pregnant again. It was just instinct, you know, to protect the baby."

"Of course, that makes sense." Janine put a hand on her arm, trying to comfort this woman whom, after just two days, she considered a friend. "Praise be His miracle, all that. How far along are you?"

"Eight weeks. Last time Jack brought somebody up from Jezebel's, before you. That's how I keep track of time: his visits. The problem is that, um, Anthony was out of town two months ago. Usually after seeing Jack, I cover my tracks by asking my husband for sex. It's the only time I do that voluntarily, so that if Jack and I get pregnant, he can assume it's his baby. But Anthony hasn't been with me in months, so he knew, and.…" She trailed off. "He punched me in the belly. A lot. Said he'd rid me of the devil's spawn. He did the same thing this morning before leaving for work. Broke some ribs, I think. Our driver pulled him off me."

"Fuck your husband. Fuck this shit. Penelope, come with me. On the boat. Take the kids and run."

"I can't leave Jack here."

"Yes, you can. Jack would understand. He wants the three of you safe and free. Your safety is more important to him than seeing you." She suddenly thought of Nick, left behind while June and their daughter ran north. "I've got a friend in the same position; trust me, he's very glad she's in Canada."

"Jack wouldn't…I can't go. The Femaleroad needs me."

"You're assuming your Commander will ever leave you alone again. He thinks you're having an affair. He can have you killed for that, Penelope. Or lock you up, or have you watched constantly. He can do whatever he wants to you. And if you're dead, what'll happen to your children then? They'll grow up unloved, with—"

"Stop." She stood up, paced a few times, chewing on a fingernail. "I hear you. I do. I'll think about it. Just be ready to go tonight. After dark."

Janine nodded, trying to think of something intelligent to say. Nothing came to her. "Be careful today, okay? Please be careful. Stay close to your driver or Martha. Don't let the Commander be alone with you."

The Wife went back into the house, and Janine found herself praying earnestly for the first time in years.