Not Perfect: A Novel

by Elizabeth Laban

  Stuart got up to go to the bathroom. He was gone a minute or two when she heard something strange. She got up to see, and Stuart was sitting on the side of their big bathtub with his head in his hands. He was crying.

  “What is it?” she asked, going to him. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t do this anymore,” he said quietly. He didn’t even sound like himself.

  “Do what?” she asked.

  “Stay here,” he had said. “Pretend.”

  She had stiffened then. Pretend. For some reason that word got her. It had felt like pretending. It had always felt like pretending, mixed with a little hope. But hadn’t they just connected? Couldn’t that be something to build on?

  “What’s pretend?” she asked, standing over him with her arms crossed. “What? Our marriage? Our family? Our home?”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, openly. It occurred to her that he was talking more honestly than he ever did. All the time he was so guarded, like if the wrong words were spoken or the wrong move made, he would fall apart. Always on a straight path, never looking around.

  “What are you talking about?” she said. “I don’t understand.”

  “I want to go see her,” he had whispered. He was still crying.

  “Who?” Tabitha had demanded.

  “Abigail,” he said. “My . . . my first . . . my first fiancée.”

  It had occurred to her, even then, to wonder what he was going to say. His first love? His first wife? Was that how he thought of her even though they had never gotten married? It was later that she wondered if he had wanted to say, “My first true love.” Had Abigail been his only true love?

  “That’s ridiculous,” Tabitha had said, strongly and clearly.

  He looked up at her then, surprised. What had he thought? That she would say, Fine, go, see you?

  “What do you mean?” he asked. He stood then. They were face to face.

  “I mean, you’re being ridiculous. You’re having a midlife crisis,” Tabitha said. “You have a family here. Despite whatever happened with you two, you chose to marry me. I am your wife. I have been here for all these years. We have two children who need you. I’m sorry. You chose. You can’t go.”

  He looked at her dumbstruck. She wasn’t usually that strong willed.

  “I didn’t choose,” he said weakly. “She chose.”

  “You chose me,” Tabitha said, breathing hard. “I didn’t even know about her when I agreed to marry you.”

  “She’s sick,” he said. “She’s dying.”

  “I don’t care,” Tabitha said. “Even more reason to not go, to stay. What would the point be? Then you would lose everything.”

  “I have to go,” Stuart said. “I have to be with her.”

  “Stuart,” Tabitha said, taking his arm, then letting it go; she was shaking and clenched to the point of feeling dizzy. “I won’t let you. Do you want to do that to the kids? They’ll be devastated. And what about your parents? You know how your parents feel about family. What about our friends? Everyone here? Your colleagues?”

  That had made him stop for a minute.

  “I am not going to let this all be for nothing,” Tabitha hissed. “You owe me.”

  “Owe you?” Stuart had said like it was the craziest thing he had ever heard.

  “You never wanted to marry me, or, at least, I was never, ever your first choice,” she said. “That is so clear. You have never done a single thing to make me feel special. I can see it all now. I should have known.” Tabitha fought back tears. She did not want to fall apart. She did not want their family to fall apart. “But we got married, and we have a family. Now, act like a grown-up.”

  At that moment, Levi had wandered into the bathroom. He had been calling them, he said he wasn’t feeling well and wanted some Advil.

  “I’ll be right there,” Stuart said.

  “See?” Tabitha said, like that proved her point. “Stop acting like a reckless kid. We have two kids already.”

  “Okay,” Stuart had said. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s come over me tonight. I’m sorry if I hurt you. Let me help Levi. You go to sleep. Maybe a Xanax would do you good. We’ll both be clearer eyed in the morning, and we’ll talk some more then.”

  That had already occurred to her. She wanted a Xanax.

  “Maybe we can talk when the kids go to school tomorrow,” Tabitha said. “We can go out to breakfast. Maybe we can call a marriage counselor.” Just the thought of it made Tabitha feel relieved. They weren’t permanently broken after all. Perhaps they had needed this breakthrough so that they could fix their marriage.

  “Okay,” Stuart said, but he was halfway out the door, moving toward Levi. While she waited for him to come back to bed, she fell fast asleep. When she woke up, he was gone.

  All this time, somewhere in the back of her mind, she had known he was with Abigail. She had no proof, but that’s what she thought, what she imagined. But if Abigail had died in September—died? Then where had Stuart been in the months since? Where was Stuart now?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “I’m so sorry,” the woman at the desk said to Tabitha. “But it looks like there’s a hold on your insurance card.”

  Tabitha didn’t even know that could happen, though, of course, she had been waiting for this moment. She and Fern were back at the hospital for the next round of tests.

  “Huh, okay, well can you bill me?”

  “Sure,” the woman said. “But I would call your insurance company right away to get this straightened out.”

  Ha! Tabitha thought. Like it was something she’d be able to straighten out. 911—she wanted to text Stuart—your daughter is at the hospital, again, and we are going to owe hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars that I personally don’t have. 911—where are you? I need you.

  They spent much of the day there. Levi was on his own again to get to and from school. In the end, none of the tests showed anything conclusive, though one was going to take a few days to come back. When Fern was on the pain medication, she was pretty much okay, but when it wore off, her knee hurt so much that it seemed to be all she could think about. Tabitha started to panic about so many things. What the heck was wrong with Fern? And what was going to happen if she just kept racking up bills? Could they eventually take the apartment away from her? What else could they do?

  Tabitha’s phone rang just as they were leaving the office. The doctor was still talking, so she didn’t feel she could answer it, but she sneaked a peek. It was Toby. Without realizing it, she let out an audible sigh, and the doctor stopped talking for a minute. He thought she was reacting to something he said.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t apologize,” the doctor said. “This is a lot to take in. We’ll be in touch as soon as the last test comes back, and we’ll come up with next steps.”

  “Thank you,” Tabitha said, but all she could think of was finding a place where she could call Toby back.

  Fern followed her, but slowly. Tabitha was slightly ahead and turned to look at her daughter struggling to keep up. She moved her good leg fast, then sort of swung her bad leg around to meet it, then did it again. She had a look of exertion on her face. Tabitha felt like she was on a seesaw—up one second—Yay, Toby called!—and down the next—My daughter is suffering!

  There was a bench up ahead, and Tabitha walked to it, then sat. She pulled out her phone. Toby didn’t leave a message, she just had the notification of a missed call. Should she call back? Would she appear overeager? But before she had to decide, her phone rang again, and it was Toby.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey yourself,” he said. “I was just calling back to try to leave a message. I called before, but it didn’t go to voicemail.”

  Tabitha’s first thought was that all her systems were breaking down. Her second thought was how glad she was to hear from him.

  “How’s your mother?” she asked. She wanted to tell him about Fern, but she didn’
t want to one-up his story, whatever it might be.

  “Oh, she’s okay,” he said. “We worried she broke a bone, but we took her for an X-ray and she didn’t. She’s just bruised. She’s fine. Resting, and she can’t get around much, at least for the next few days, but she’s fine.”

  “Oh, good,” Tabitha said as Fern joined her on the bench. “I’m glad.”

  “I’m sorry I ran out on you like that,” Toby said. “First things first, though, is my chair okay?”

  Tabitha laughed. Fern stood up quickly and motioned for Tabitha to get off the phone. She shook her head and put up one finger, letting her know she just needed a minute.

  “No,” Fern said loudly. “Get off the phone now!”

  “Fern,” Tabitha said, putting her hand over the phone. “I just need a second. Then we can go.”

  Fern grabbed the phone out of Tabitha’s hand and threw it on the floor. They both stared at it. Then Fern made a move to stomp on it. Tabitha grabbed her, stopping her, and picked up the phone.

  “I’ll have to call you back,” she said to Toby, not waiting for an answer, not even making sure he was still there, before ending the call.

  “What was that all about?” Tabitha asked.

  “I’m so tired of you always being on the phone,” she whined. “You aren’t normal anymore. I’m so tired of it.”

  Tabitha reached out to calm Fern, but she pulled away, and then she started running, as best she could, down the hall and around the corner, Tabitha thought toward the elevators. Tabitha was aware of people looking at her, and kept her eyes down as she followed Fern’s route. She wanted to scream at Fern, but that would just draw more attention. She would really yell when they got outside, when nobody could hear them. She would punish Fern for acting like that. She would make her sorry.

  As she rounded the corner, there was a tiny boy, walking, but clearly not developing in the normal way, with an oxygen tube in his nose. His mother, at least it looked like his mother, was right behind him, carrying the oxygen tank. Tabitha could see he was struggling, and the mother was encouraging him to keep going. It took all the anger out of her sails. When she moved past them, she saw Fern, sitting on a bench by the elevators, crying. She didn’t look up when Tabitha approached.

  “I’m so sorry, Fernie Bernie,” Tabitha said. “I am just so sorry.”

  She sat down and reached for Fern, and this time Fern let her.

  Tabitha didn’t call Toby back until much later that night, after Fern was asleep.

  “Hey,” she said. “I’m so sorry about that. Fern was upset. She had a bit of a tantrum, which is so unlike her, but I guess it happens to the best of them.”

  “It certainly does,” Toby said warmly. “Believe me, I know girl tantrums.”

  “So, where were we?” Tabitha asked, smiling into the phone.

  “Well,” Toby said. “I was just about to ask you out on a proper date. I’m not even sure if that’s okay, we were interrupted when we were talking about what is and isn’t okay. I figure we can go out and then talk about it. I promise you I will not get my hopes up.”

  Again, Tabitha laughed. “Sure,” she said. “When?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “What time?”

  “I have Tara tomorrow night, so I was thinking lunch? My treat, of course.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  The next morning she got up and walked out with the kids.

  “No way,” Levi said. “You can’t not walk us and then walk us. It’s embarrassing.”

  Fern just looked at her. She should be driving Fern, really, but with the pain meds she’d been okay. The question was, how long was too long to stay on the pain meds? 911—our daughter needs pain pills to walk! And I’m afraid she’s going to become addicted to them.

  “Okay,” Tabitha said. “I understand.”

  The kids nodded once in unison; they clearly expected a fight. Or at least Levi did. Tabitha stood on the sidewalk and watched them go through the Square, the way Fern always wanted to go, and across toward Nineteenth Street and beyond. Once she could see them cross by the library, she walked in the other direction toward Starbucks.

  “I’ll have an extra large, what do you call that?”

  “That would be a ‘venti,’” the barista said with a smile.

  “A venti latte with whole milk please,” she said happily. She had found a gift card in a drawer that morning with $10 written on it. It was underlined twice, so it must have been true. She just hoped it still had money on it, that it wasn’t used but not thrown away.

  “It’s pretty big,” warned the barista.

  “I’ll take it,” Tabitha said, already imagining her first sip of the hot, milky coffee. She hadn’t had a latte or cappuccino in months. She considered asking the barista to check the card before he actually put in the order. What would she do if the card didn’t work? But she wanted it so much, she was willing to risk it. She heard the steaming of the milk and smelled the espresso.

  “That will be four twenty-five,” the barista said.

  Tabitha handed over the card and looked the other way. Please let it work, please let it work. She caught herself mouthing the words as she saw Julie, the head of the parent association at the kids’ school, tie up her scruffy dog outside and move toward the door. Tabitha had a second of wondering if she could get out of there before Julie saw her, but no, she was stuck. Plus, at this point, she would do anything to get that latte.

  “Here you go,” the barista said, handing back the card, and Tabitha was so relieved that she didn’t even care about seeing Julie anymore. “You still have over five dollars on that.”

  “Can I give you a tip from the card?” she asked.

  “No, sorry, I can’t do that,” he said nicely. “No worries. Get me next time.”

  Tabitha thought about the last of the cuff links she had in the bottom of her purse, but she couldn’t do that here, not in front of Julie, not with the explanation it would require.

  “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

  She moved to the other side of the counter and waited. Julie could find her if she wanted to, or maybe she wouldn’t notice her.

  “Tabitha?”

  “Venti caffé latte?” the person behind the counter called.

  “That’s me,” Tabitha said, before turning toward Julie.

  “My, my, that’s a lot of coffee,” Julie said.

  “It is,” Tabitha smiled dumbly. “And I’m happy to have it.”

  “Okay then,” Julie said, squinting her eyes a little.

  Tabitha put some Sugar In The Raw into her cup, trying not to oversweeten it—all this sugar! Just available for the taking! If Julie weren’t there Tabitha would have put some packets into her bag. She stirred, put the lid back on, and took a long first sip of the luscious, creamy drink. She closed her eyes and swallowed. Julie was watching her. She took another sip, this time with her eyes open. Did coffee always taste this good? Tabitha didn’t think so. And the truth was, Starbucks hadn’t generally been her favorite. Well, it was now.

  “So, Tabitha, I’ve been looking for you at school,” Julie said. “I haven’t seen you there much.”

  Tabitha didn’t know what the right answer to this was. She knew it was good to give your kids independence, but were they too young to officially be walking to school by themselves? She wasn’t sure where Julie’s judgment would land on this one. She took another sip of coffee.

  “I’ve been around,” she said. “I guess I just keep missing you.”

  “Well, we have the big fundraiser coming up in early spring, and I wanted to talk to you about being on the committee,” Julie said. “You are always so good at that.”

  Tabitha pictured herself last year, probably around this time, going in and out of stores and restaurants, explaining about the Larchwood School, asking if they would be willing to donate anything. Sometimes they gave gift certificates, other times a shirt or a book. If things kept going as they were, she
might be forced to pretend she was asking for the school and really take the items for herself and the kids. That was a good idea, actually. Most of the places would probably remember her from previous years and not think anything of it. Suddenly, she wasn’t so sorry she had run into Julie.

  “Oh, I would love to,” Tabitha said, pausing for another long sip of coffee. “But it just isn’t a good time for me.”

  Normally, Tabitha would feel a need to explain. Today, she really didn’t. Julie waited, but Tabitha just drank her coffee.

  “I see,” Julie said after a long pause. “What exactly . . .”

  Before she had a chance to finish, there was a ruckus outside with lots of dogs barking. Tabitha thought Julie might actually ask her what she was busy with, and she sort of wanted her to. She had no intention of telling her anything, but she wondered how deep she’d dare to probe. Did Julie think all mothers’ time belonged to her, and if it didn’t that they owed her an explanation? Apparently so. But Julie didn’t ask anything more, she just left. Walked right out, without saying good-bye or nice to see you. Tabitha watched while she knelt down to check on her dog, then she pulled the leash off the hook and walked away. Tabitha continued to drink her coffee. She felt a little buzzed, which made her think of Nora and the pot candy. That was the last time she had felt this good. And she couldn’t remember a time before that, since it had been so long ago. She ended up throwing away the edible from Nora’s that she had slipped in her pocket—she was worried one of the kids would find it and think it was just candy. But now she was sorry that she did. She stood in the middle of Starbucks and finished the huge cup, threw it away, and walked out and north on Eighteenth Street.

  She knew where she wanted to go. She walked fast but felt like she should be doing more than just walking. She took out her phone, googled the synagogue number, and called. She asked for Rabbi Rosen. It went right to voicemail.

  “Hi Rabbi, this is Tabitha Brewer, Levi Brewer’s mom,” she said quickly. “I, um, I just wanted to call before we get too deep into this. Levi is having second thoughts about his bar mitzvah. I think he might like to postpone. Thanks so much.” As soon as she ended the call she regretted it. What would Stuart say? Well Stuart wasn’t here to say anything, and the more she thought about it, the better she felt. Now it was out there, and she’d see what happened. Maybe the whole thing would just go away.