“It’s a piña colada, sir. Your throat is parched, sir,” says the waiter.
“You’ve given me somebody else’s order.”
“No, it’s for you,” insists the waiter.
“I’m telling you I didn’t order it.”
“Your wife did,” whispers the waiter, pointing to me.
William looks across the room at me and I give him a little wave. Dozens of micro-expressions flit across his face. I try and catalog them: bewilderment, vulnerability, shock, shame, anger, and then something else, something I’m entirely unprepared for. Relief.
He nods. He nods again, then he takes a sip of the piña colada. “That’s good. Surprisingly good,” he says into the mike and then promptly spills the glass all over his white shirtfront. Bunny and Caroline leap to their feet, their napkins in hand, and begin dabbing at William’s shirt.
“Soda water, please!” yells Bunny. “Quick, before the stain sets.”
I dart into the bathroom hallway. Thirty seconds later, William finds me.
“You know?” he whispers, pressing me up against the wall.
I glare at his wet, stained shirt. “Obviously.”
He saws his jaw back and forth. “ ‘Real life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be’?”
“You toyed with me. For months. Why shouldn’t I toy with you? Just a little.”
He takes a deep breath. “William had a very bad year. William is not trying to make excuses for himself. William should have told his wife about his bad year.”
“Why are you talking about yourself in the third person?”
“I’m trying to speak your language. Facebooking you. To your face. Say something.”
“Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“Don’t you want to know how I found out?”
William hands me his phone.
“Every time you take a photo, your longitude and latitude is tagged. Your last profile photo—the one of your hand—it was taken at our house. You left me a trail that led right back to you.”
I turn off the location services setting on his phone’s camera. “There. Now nobody can track you.”
“What if I want to be tracked?”
“In that case you should seek professional help.”
“How long have you known?”
“Since this afternoon.”
William runs his hand through his hair. “Jesus, Alice. Why didn’t you say something? Does Bunny know?”
I nod.
“Nedra, too?”
“Yes.”
He grimaces.
“Don’t be embarrassed. They adore you. They thought it was the most romantic thing they had ever heard of.”
“Is that what you thought?”
“Why, William? Why did you do it?”
He sighs. “Because I saw your Google search. The night of the FiG launch? You didn’t clear history. I saw it all. From ‘Alice Buckle’ to ‘Happy Marriage.’ You were miserable. I made you miserable. I made that stupid comment about you having a small life. I had to do something.”
“And the Netherfield Center? That was an invention? Its connection to UCSF?”
“I knew you wouldn’t take part in the survey unless it was properly credentialed. Setting up the website wasn’t hard. What was hard was when it took on a life of its own. I was planning to confess. The night we were supposed to meet at Tea & Circumstances? Then Bunny and Jack came. I never intended to stand you up. I begged you not to go, remember? I didn’t think it would end like this.”
“But why did you have to sneak around? You could have just asked me the questions to my face. You didn’t even try.”
“What do you mean? I stalked you. I solicited you. I opened a fake Facebook account. I pinged you, alerted you, and notified you. I read the goddamn Chronicles of Narnia and Catch-22.”
“Is this on? Is this working?” We hear Nedra testing the mike. “William? Are you out there? It’s terribly bad form to not finish a toast. To be a toast dangler. At least in the UK, it is.”
“Oh, Jesus,” groans William, uncharacteristically flustered. “Save me.”
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll give the damn toast.”
As I make my way across the room, I try and clear my head. I should say something about love, obviously. Something about marriage. Something funny. Something sweet. But my mind is swimming with thoughts of William. The lengths to which he went to reach me.
When I get to the table, Zoe hands the microphone to me. “Go, Mom,” she whispers.
I bring the microphone slowly up to my lips. “Do you know how you know you know?” I sputter.
I did not just say that. My knees are shaking. I stare out into the crowd nervously and clutch at my throat.
“Head high,” Bunny says under her breath.
“When things are right.”
“People don’t talk that way in real life,” Bunny whispers.
“There’s just no stopping lovers from being together.”
“From the heart, Alice. From the heart,” she urges me.
“I’m sorry. Hold on.” I search for William but I don’t see him anywhere. “Let me try this again. Nedra. Kate. My sweetest, dearest friends.” A hush settles over the restaurant. I look out at the room.
“My God, look at all those phones. Do you realize there are phones on everybody’s table? Is there anybody here without a device? Raise your hand. No, I didn’t think so. You know, it’s crazy. It’s really crazy. We live in such connected times. It’s so easy to become addicted to having access to everything and everybody in a split second, but I’m not so sure that’s a good thing.”
I pause, take a sip of my water, and stall, hoping clarity will come to me. Where the hell did William go?
“Someone once told me waiting was a dying art. He worried that we had traded speed and constant access for the deeper pleasures of leaving and returning. I wasn’t sure I agreed with him. Who doesn’t want what they want when they want it? That’s the world we live in. To pretend otherwise is ridiculous. But I’m starting to think he was right. Nedra and Kate, you are a perfect example of what waiting brings you. Your partnership inspires me. It makes me want to be better. You have one of the strongest, most stalwart, loving, and tender relationships I’ve ever seen, and it will be my privilege to bear witness to your marriage tomorrow.”
I try and unobtrusively wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt.
“Now, I know I’m supposed to give you some advice now. Sage advice coming from somebody who’s been married for two decades. I’m not sure what wisdom I can offer, but I can say this. Marriage isn’t neutral. Sometimes we’d like to think it is, but listen, hiding out in the infirmary waiting for the war to end is no way to live.”
I look out at a sea of confused faces. Uh-oh.
“What I’m trying to say is don’t have a Sweden of a marriage. Or a Costa Rica of a marriage, either. Not that I don’t like Sweden or Costa Rica; they are perfectly lovely places to live and visit and I appreciate their neutrality, politically anyway. But my advice is—have the courage to let your marriage be some fiery country in the throes of revolution where each of you speaks a different dialect and sometimes you can barely understand each other but it doesn’t matter because, well, each of you is fighting. Fighting for each other.”
People start to whisper. A pair of women get up from their table and make their way to the bar. I’m losing them. What was I thinking? I am the least equipped person in the world to be giving advice about marriage. I’m a fake, I should sit down, I should shut up, and just when I’m getting ready to bolt from the room, my phone chimes. I ignore it. It chimes again.
“This is embarrassing, I’m so sorry. It might be an emergency. My father—you see. Let me just take a peek.”
I put the microphone down and pick up my phone. I have a message from John Yossarian.
18. What did you used to do that you don’t do now?
I look up, and in the corner of the room I see William s
miling at me. You son of a bitch, I think. You sweet, dear, son of a bitch.
I pick the microphone back up. “Listen, all I have to say … all I have to say is—run, dive, pitch a tent. Spend hours on the phone with your best friend.”
Nedra pops up and gives a Queen Elizabeth wave with a cupped palm. Laughter ripples through the room.
“Wear bikinis.”
More than a few groans from the women in the over-forty group.
“Drink tequila.”
Hoots of appreciation from the under-forty group.
“Wake up in the morning happy for no good reason.”
People are smiling. Faces are soft. Eyes are glistening.
“You’ve got them, Alice,” whispers Bunny. “Reel them in slowly now.”
I take a deep breath. “Lie in the grass, dream of your future, of your one imperfect life and your one imperfect marriage to your one imperfect true love. Because what else is there?” I lock eyes with William. “Honestly, there’s nothing else. Nothing else matters. To love.” I raise my glass. “To Nedra and Kate.”
“To Nedra and Kate,” the room echoes back.
I plop down in my chair, wiped out.
“Mom, you were awesome,” says Peter.
“I didn’t know you could just wing it like that,” says Zoe.
Nedra blows me a kiss from across the room, tears in her eyes.
“Where’s Dad?” asks Zoe.
“There,” says Peter, pointing. He’s leaning against the wall watching us, holding his phone in his hand.
I get my phone and quickly type.
Lucy Pevensie invited John Yossarian to the event “Proposal”
The Bathroom Hallway, August 17, Now.
RSVP Yes No Maybe
An instant later I get a message.
John Yossarian has responded Yes.
“Back in a minute,” I say.
I’m standing near the bathroom door and William steps forward, into the dim light of the hallway.
“Wait. Before you say anything, I’m sorry,” I say.
“You’re sorry? For what?”
“I didn’t make it easy for you. I was hard to find.”
“Yes, you were hard to find, Alice. But I made you a promise a long time ago that no matter how far you wandered, how far you went off trail, I would come after you, I would find you and I would bring you home.”
“Well, here I am. For better or for worse. And you’re probably thinking for worse right now.”
“No, I’m thinking we have got to stop meeting in the bathroom hallway,” he says, inching closer.
I pull the engagement ring out of my pocket. I wave it in his face and he stops short.
“Is that—?”
“Yes.”
“What? How?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.”
“No, it doesn’t. What matters is this,” I say, sliding the ring on my finger.
William inhales sharply. “Did you just do what I think you did?”
“I don’t know. What do you think I did?”
“Made me obsolete.”
“Oh, pah! It’s the twenty-first century, not the nineteenth. Women can put their engagement rings on their own damn fingers. Now I need to know something and you need to tell me the truth. And may I suggest you answer without thinking about it too much? If you had to do it all again, would you marry me?”
“Is that a marriage proposal?”
“Answer the question.”
“Well, that depends. Is there a dowry involved? Give me the damn ring, Alice.”
“Why?”
“Just give it to me.”
“You still owe me a thousand dollars for participating in the study. Don’t think I’ve forgotten,” I say, taking the ring off and handing it to him.
He looks at the engraving and a smile creeps across his lips.
“Read it out loud,” I say.
He gives me that dark, brooding, trademark stare of his. “Her heart did whisper he had done it for her.”
I had no mother for twenty-nine Christmases, Easters, and birthdays. No mother for college graduation. No mother sitting in the front row at the opening night of my play. No mother at my wedding or the birth of my children. But I have a mother today. Here she is, speaking to me as if no time has ever passed, telling me exactly what I need to know.
“My father found it in a pawnshop in Brockton. It’s been there for twenty years. Nedra said it’s a sign.”
“If you’re a person who believes in signs,” he says.
“I am.”
“Since when?”
“Since—forever.”
William reaches down for my hand.
“Not so fast. I’m a married woman.”
“And I’m a married man.”
“You never answered my question.”
“Yes, Alice Buckle,” he says, sliding the ring onto my finger.
“You showed up,” I whisper.
“Shush, you nutty ho ho,” he says, as he pulls me into his arms.
EPILOGUE
April 30
GOOGLE SEARCH “Happy Family”
About 114,000,000 results (.16 seconds)
15 Secrets to Having a Happy Family
Experts fill you in on a few of the secrets of happy families. You too can experience some of the domestic bliss that seemed previously reserved just for TV …
HAPPY FAMILY
After realizing that chore charts were too hard to keep up with, and were not practical for the types of behavior I was wanting to recognize …
The Happy Family … Hans Christian Andersen
“And the rain beat on the dock-leaves to make drum-music for their sake, and the sun shone in order to give the burdock forest a color for their sakes; and they were very happy, and the whole family was happy; for they, indeed were so.”
GOOGLE SEARCH “Peter Buckle”
About 17 results (.23 seconds)
Peter Buckle
.… president “Oakland School for the Arts” Creepy Thriller and Romantic Comedy Club. Tonight’s double billing … Annie Hall & The Exorcist!
Peter Buckle … YouTube …
Lead singer, Peter Buckle, for The Vegans … singing “Breast or Thigh: Why I Stopped Eating Chicken and Why You Shouldn’t Eat Chicken Either.”
GOOGLE SEARCH “Zoe Buckle”
About 801 results (.51 seconds)
Zoe Buckle is on Twitter … Go Girl
Zoe Buckle’s Go Girl is THE site for vintage clothing … Liberty of London on sale today!
Zoe Buckle U Mass
Alumna Alice Buckle touring the University of Massachusetts, where daughter Zoe Buckle will attend in the fall …
GOOGLE SEARCH “Nedra Rao”
About 84,500 results (.56 seconds)
Nedra Rao of RAO LLP on maternity leave …
Nedra Rao and her wife, Kate O’Halloran, are pleased to be expecting their second child …
GOOGLE SEARCH “Bobby B”
About 501 results (.05 seconds)
BobbyB Move and Groove
… the Premiere Door-to-Door College Moving Service. We take care of EVERYTHING—from lugging fifty-pound suitcases up five flights of stairs, to putting clean sheets on the bed. All that’s left for you to do is make the breakfast reservation.
GOOGLE SEARCH “Helen Davies”
About 520,004 results (.75 seconds)
Helen Davies … Elle Décor
It took Helen Davies three long years to renovate the Oxford Street manse, but finally the founder of D&D Advertising has the dream home she’s always wanted …
GOOGLE SEARCH “Caroline Kilborn”
About 292 results (.24 seconds)
Caroline Kilborn … Tipi Stories from the Field
I’m on my way to Honduras, where I’ll be spending the next year seeing firsthand how microfinance works …
GOOGLE SEARCH “Bunny Kilborn”
About 124,000 result
s (.86 seconds)
Bunny Kilborn … in memory of my husband
Bunny Kilborn, renowned Artistic Director of the Blue Hill Theater … that’s why I established The Jack T. Kilborn Scholarship for Emerging Playwrights … Jack was always such a huge supporter of the arts. He would have been thrilled to know …
GOOGLE SEARCH “Phil Archer”
About 18 results (.15 seconds)
Phil Archer … Conchita Martinez
Phil Archer and Conchita Martinez were married in St. Mary’s Church in Brockton, MA. Alice Buckle, daughter of the groom, gave Archer away … reception … Irish American Club on 58 Apple Blossom Road.
GOOGLE SEARCH “William Buckle”
About 15,210 results (.42 seconds)
William BUCKLE
William Buckle D&D Advertising—nominated for a Clio for his spot “Geotag” for Mondavi Wines.
William BUCKLE
Oakland Magazine: SEEN—William Buckle and Alice Buckle: Celebrating their 22nd wedding anniversary at FiG … sharing a rhubarb kumquat compote.
GOOGLE SEARCH “Alice Buckle”
About 25,401 results (.55 seconds)
ALICE BUCKLE
Ms. Buckle’s play I’m Protracting Our Goodbye debuts at the Blue Hill Playhouse … Boston Globe, “The emergence of a bright new talent. A true original, poignant, witty, sophisticated and sweet,” “a modern-day comedy of manners … misunderstandings and misinterpretations, underpinned with the sting of truth.”
GOOGLE SEARCH “Netherfield Center”
About 0 results (0 seconds)
Netherfield Center for the Study of Marriage …
We’re sorry but this page can no longer be found.
APPENDIX—THE QUESTIONNAIRE
1. How old are you?
2. Why did you agree to participate in this study?
3. How often do you have a conversation with your spouse that lasts more than five minutes?
4. How well does your spouse participate in the running of the household?
Wife 22: A Novel Page 33
