“Are they ever the same things?” I asked, though I didn’t expect Nell to have the answer. “What you need and what you want?”
“Sure,” she said. “I guess. I don’t know. Maybe for some people. It’s too early in the day for me to be philosophical.”
I tossed the dregs of Matt’s first cup of coffee in the sink.
“Will you support me in this?” I asked.
“Haven’t I always supported you?”
“Well,” I said, “not really. Mostly you’ve been nasty. Mostly you’ve made me feel like an idiot.”
“I’m sorry, Laura. Really. From this point on you have my full support. I won’t criticize or judge or say ‘I told you so’ if things don’t work out.”
Nell sounded genuine enough.
“Mom would be happy for me. Dad, too. Don’t you think so, Nell?”
“Sure,” she said. “I’m sure they would be happy for you.”
I heard a key in the lock of the front door.
“Matt’s here,” I said. “I have to go.”
Chapter 54
Grace
Every once in a great while you’ll be introduced to a couple who have been married for fifty or sixty years. So what? Like staying together is such an accomplishment? Let them try going through the hell of a divorce and then you’ll offer congratulations.
—Married People: Friends or Foes?
“Simon’s locked out of his apartment.”
I stood in Evan’s office, just inside the door. Evan sat at his desk, legs crossed, a cup of coffee in his hand. “I see,” he said.
“He hasn’t paid his rent in two months.”
Evan put down the cup, uncrossed his legs, and leaned forward over the desk.
“Let me guess. The paintings are inside.”
I walked farther into the office and sat in one of the guest chairs. “How did you know?” I asked.
“I’ve heard stories. Everyone has.”
Okay, I thought. Here we go. I looked steadily at Evan. “Then you know about me,” I said.
Evan smiled. His expression was kind. “All I know,” he said, “is that you went above and beyond the call of duty to help an artist create his work.”
“Yes, well, that’s a nice way of putting it.”
And then I painted a broad-stroke picture for Evan of the past seventeen years. The spending sprees, the cheating, the damaged furniture, the good and the less good work, the missed opportunities, the divorce, and its aftermath. Evan listened quietly and with sympathy.
“That’s my sorry story,” I said finally. I thought: How can you want someone like me?
“I’m very glad you told me,” Evan said. He got up and came around to the front of the desk where I sat.
“Simon was very lucky to have your love.”
I stood. “Was he?”
Evan reached for my hands. “Yes.”
And then we kissed. It happened naturally and inevitably and it was wonderful.
And oh, I felt the burn.
“Simon, it’s Grace. And Evan. Let us in.”
Simon was holed up in his friend Rob’s apartment. Techno music was blaring into the hallway.
Evan banged harder on the door. “Simon! Open up!”
The music shut off. “It’s Grace, Simon,” I called again.
Chains slid. Locks turned. Slowly, the door opened and Simon peered out from behind it.
I held out my hand.
“Here’s the new key to your apartment. Your landlord gave it to us.”
Simon came out from behind the door. A smile spread across his face. His hair, I noticed, needed cutting. He needed a shave. He snatched the key from my hand.
“Gracie, I knew you’d come through!”
He put out his arms. I took a step back into the hallway.
“No, Simon,” I said, “I didn’t come through.”
Evan took my hand, squeezed it, then let it go. I was sure Simon didn’t notice.
“What?” Simon said, scratching his stomach.
“I paid your back rent, Simon,” Evan said. “And I’m taking it out of whatever sales the show brings. And if the sales don’t cover it, I’m holding the paintings until they do sell.”
I almost laughed. The look on Simon’s face was priceless. I don’t think anyone had ever held him responsible for anything.
“Wait,” he said, a trace of panic in his voice. “That’s not in my contract. That’s totally bogus!”
I kept my mouth shut and let Evan do the talking.
“You’re a good artist, Simon. I’m happy to be showing your work. It’s too close to the opening for me to cancel this show, so I’m bailing you out. But I’m not a fool, and I won’t bail you out again. Understood?”
Simon looked downright sheepish. He nodded and mumbled something I thought was “yes.” Was it really that easy to control him?
Evan smiled. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Simon, as planned. You remember our meeting?”
Simon nodded again. “Three o’clock.”
“Excellent.”
“Good-bye, Simon,” I said.
And we walked away.
Chapter 55
Laura
It’s a fact: unmarried women over the age of thirty-five make for the least desirable dinner guests. Their unattached status makes married women nervous and married men curious to learn if they can ‘get some’ without strings. The hostess is put upon to dig up a single male to even the numbers at her table. Finally, the never-married single woman can’t participate in general conversation about topics that really matter, like your kids’ tuition bill, their school plays, and their amazing feats on the soccer field.
—The Single Woman as Social Pariah
“Did I ever tell you that Richard tried to come back after he’d moved in with Bob? It was about two weeks after he’d moved out of our apartment.”
I shook my head. “That’s sad.” And pathetic, I thought.
We were having dinner at one of my favorite restaurants. It’s called Big Bowl and it’s a chain, but the food is really good and the portions are huge. I had to drag Nell to Big Bowl kicking and screaming, and I get a feeling Jess and Grace aren’t as into the giant nachos as I am, but I’m not going to some high-end restaurant, paying a fortune, and eating something I can’t even pronounce.
“It is sad,” Nell said. “He actually thought he could, I don’t know, repress it all again, go back to being ‘hetero’—or, at least, to being perceived as heterosexual.”
“Poor Richard.” Grace sighed. “It must have been a horrible time for him, and for Bob.”
Poor Richard! Ha, I thought. He’s not getting my sympathy. And why should I care about Bob? “You told him no right away, right?” I asked my sister.
“Well,” she said, “I have to admit the idea was tempting. For a split second I thought, sure, why not? We’ll just go on the same way we’ve been going on for all these years. I’ll have my best friend back as my roommate. And then I came to my senses.”
“You did him a favor,” Jess said, “by cutting him loose.”
“Did I?” my sister said. “Did I help him by not letting him retreat into his phony past? Maybe. It certainly wasn’t my intention. I hated him in those first days, really despised him. I lost my best friend and my husband in one fell swoop.”
“It must have been awful,” I said with passion. “It must still be awful.”
Nell shook her head. “Actually, not so much anymore. I guess it’s true that time does heal everything. At least, it deadens the pain somehow.”
Yes. Time did do—something. I still dreamed about the crash that killed my parents, but only once or twice a week now. That was a big improvement.
I tuned back into the conversation. Nell said: “Can you imagine if Richard asks me to stand up for him!”
I was shocked. “You wouldn’t say yes, would you?”
Nell laughed. “What a bizarre thing my life has become. I don’t know if I could officially�
�release—him again. Signing the divorce papers was bad enough. I know he’s no longer mine. I don’t want to have to, I don’t know, play out the act of severing again.”
“He’ll always be yours in some way,” Jess said. “Your first love, the father of your children. You and Richard and Colin and Clara will always be a family.”
“How disgustingly sentimental you’ve gotten.”
“Sorry.” Jess shrugged. “I’m just trying to help.”
“And I do appreciate it, really. Thank you.”
“I wonder if they’ll register?” I said. I for one was looking forward to my own second registry. There were so many things I wanted, like a set of fancy dishes, maybe with gold trim, and some Waterford crystal, and maybe even a new vacuum.
“Maybe,” Nell said. “Richard left without a lot of the things he’d bought over the years. His stereo, his projection TV. I didn’t want them—I still don’t—but he insisted I keep all the accoutrements of a successful house. I don’t know what Bob brought to their place. I don’t know what they’ve bought together.”
“So, do you think we’ll all be invited to the wedding?” Grace asked.
“Oh, yes. I told Richard it would be easier for me to be there if my friends were there, too. I’m bringing Trina as my date, by the way.”
“Well,” I said, “I’m not going!”
Nell gave me one of her annoying looks. “Fine. You can explain to your niece and nephew that you hate their father. I’m sure they’ll love to hear it.”
“I’m trying to be loyal to my sister!” I protested.
“Then don’t cause further strife for my family.”
Jess raised her eyebrows at me. Everybody has an opinion!
“All right, all right,” I said, “I’ll go for the children’s sakes. But I won’t enjoy myself.”
“Fine. Just show up and behave. And make sure Matt behaves, too.”
Right. Matt. My fiancé. Of course he’d be my date to Richard’s wedding. Of course Jess would be there, too.
I slipped my hand under the table. No point in causing trouble.
Did Jess recognize the stone? The setting was so different from the one Matt had given her. Mine was yellow gold; Jess’s had been platinum. Mine was kind of busy and old fashioned. Jess’s had been very simple and contemporary.
“So,” Jess said, “I assume from the rock you’re trying to hide from me that you and Matt are, at long last, intimate.”
I nodded, embarrassed, and put my hand back on the table. Why had I ever opened my big mouth about my personal life?
My sister shot a scolding look at Jess. Sometimes, not often, she comes to my rescue. “So, when’s the big day?” she asked.
“Some time early next year,” I said. “I’m still shopping around for venues.”
“You’ll be a winter bride,” Grace said.
Yes, I thought, a winter bride. And maybe I’d buy a dress trimmed in white fur! Maybe I’d wear a white velvet cape with a hood and carry all white flowers.
“Are you going to do a big event?” Grace asked. “Bridesmaids and a sit-down dinner and a three-piece band?”
“Isn’t that a bit much for a second wedding?” Nell asked.
“Not these days,” Grace told Nell. “It’s common for third-and fourth-time brides to stage elaborate weddings. There seems to be no embarrassment about remarrying with all the fanfare. The first wedding is conveniently forgotten.”
“Who pays for all these big weddings?” Jess said. “Do people really have that much money, or is every new couple in debt for years to come?”
I nodded. “I’ve been checking out photographers, and you wouldn’t believe how expensive they are!”
“But photos of the big day are worth it.” Nell shook her head. “What am I saying? They’re only worth something if the marriage lasts. After Richard left, I put my wedding album at the back of the closet. Do you know our official portrait had been in a frame on my dresser for over twenty years? When I put it away with the album, the whole bedroom looked alien.”
“Simon and I didn’t have official pictures taken,” Grace said. “Some of our friends took snapshots. I have only a few; Simon spilled red wine on most of them one night when he was drunk. Honestly, I never look at the photos. I’m not even sure where they are at this point.”
“I know exactly where my album is. I look at it every week or so and I try to figure out what went wrong, as if somehow the pictures will provide a clue as to—” Jess turned to me. “I’m sorry, Laura. This must be uncomfortable for you, listening to me talking about my marriage to Matt.”
“Yes,” I said. I realized again there would be a lifetime of uncomfortable moments between me and Jess.
“This is what I want to know,” Nell said suddenly. “Does a divorce invalidate all that went before? Does what happens now change what happened in the past? Is my history irrevocably altered by what happened last week or last month?”
“Your perception is definitely altered,” Jess said. “But the reality itself? I think it’s one of those unanswerable questions. You know, on the order of ‘if a tree falls in the forest and there’s no one there to hear it, does it make a sound?’”
Nell nodded. “Okay. But I have to at least try to answer it. What if I learn that what I thought was true wasn’t really true. Do you see what I mean? Maybe I was happy with Richard because I thought he was happy with me, but if I find out he wasn’t actually happy—was I actually happy?”
No one said anything. Really, what did Nell expect us to say? Talking about the past always causes trouble. Stupid Nell! Now I couldn’t stop thinking about Duncan!
All those years together. I wondered: What are you supposed to do with the memories? Where are you supposed to put them?
Grace cleared her throat. “I’d like to talk about the present for a minute.”
“Yes, please!” I said.
Grace told us that she’d talked to Evan about her relationship with Simon. And that Evan had bailed Simon out for one time only. And that she and Evan had finally kissed.
“It was a wonderful first kiss, really,” she said, “the kind you remember, the kind you still feel days later.”
“Wow.” Jess sighed. “I’m jealous. I wonder if I’ll ever have one of those magical first kisses ever again.”
Grace grabbed Jess’s hand. “Oh, Jess, of course you will!”
She might not, I thought. My first kiss with Matt was okay but nothing special. And that was my last first kiss. Suddenly, I felt very sad. Would I feel any happier after the wedding? I pushed the worry away. Besides, what’s so great about happiness?
“And Evan was great with Simon,” Grace was saying. “He stood up to him, and I don’t know why, but Simon seemed to listen. Who knows? Maybe next month he’ll screw up again, but he won’t be my problem or Evan’s.”
“Congratulations,” Nell said. She raised her glass. “To Grace, who really, finally cut the cord.”
“To Grace!” Jess echoed.
Slowly, I raised my glass. At least one of us was in love.
Chapter 56
Jess
Particularly if you have children, there might come a time when you are in the position of having to introduce your ex-husband to your current partner. Say your ex shows up early for his afternoon with the kids and your partner answers the door. Keep your cool. Be polite and resist the temptation to tell your ex you’re having better sex than you ever had with him.
—Keeping the Peace: We Live in a Civilization
“Heads up!”
I ducked in my beach chair. What was flying at me now? A wild Frisbee, a kite out of control, a bocce ball accidentally lobbed too high?
“Sorry about that.”
I looked up to see a teenaged boy bending down to retrieve a large plastic ring.
“That’s okay,” I said as he trotted back to his buddy. For half a second I wondered if I should point out that he was playing a beach game in the zone restricted for sunbathers,
but it was far too nice a day to be grumpy.
A perfect summer day at the beach.
I looked out over the water and thought again about the last time I’d been on Ogunquit Beach, the day the water was so blue and calm, the day the pink beach ball drifted along lazily. The day I somehow knew I would be divorced from Matt.
Strange, how life works.
My meditative thoughts were interrupted by a caravan slogging past me under the awkward weight of chairs and bags and coolers and umbrellas. The caravan consisted of a balding father, an overweight mother, a moody, reluctant adolescent daughter, and a blissfully oblivious younger brother.
I smiled. Unlike seasoned beachgoers who pack their gear neatly into nifty little carts and wagons, this family looked like they had stumbled into foreign territory. I hoped they didn’t mind sand in their ham and cheese sandwiches. Suddenly, the father let out a curse; seems he’d stepped on a broken shell. The daughter rolled her eyes. The mother ignored her hobbling husband’s accusatory whines. The young boy dashed past them all and into the wide tide pool.
And I hoped the McFamily settled far away from me. A nasty argument was sure to erupt before long. These four people did not want to be with each other.
Just then, being alone seemed like heaven.
Still, on the drive up to Ogunquit I had experienced a brief stab of loneliness, followed by a wee bout of self-pity. I found myself imagining the assumptions people might make at the sight of an adult woman all by her lonesome.
“How sad. That poor woman must have no friends.”
“Just look at her all alone. Poor thing, she must be so lonely.”
“Mommy, why is that lady all by herself?”
“Don’t stare, Timmy. She might be crazy.”
Sometimes I can be so morbidly self-centered. Well, I suppose we all have our moments.
The McFamily finally settled near another disheveled group that included a grandmother and possibly an aunt or two. Aside from an older man whose toasty skin color betrayed him as a professional sun worshipper, I was the only person in view without a companion.
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