On the first day of the vacation, they all went to the pool. They’d flown in the previous night and had spent the morning hours in the apartment, which was filled with china platters and glass figurines that Josie and her sister, Elizabeth, were told they mustn’t touch.
Perhaps it was the lure of the crashing ocean waves that birthed the impulse within her. Or perhaps she’d been cooped up for too long, first in a plane and then in a corner of the apartment, and she’d simply seized the chance at freedom.
Their family took the elevator to the lobby, then exited through the glass doors in the back that led to the pool area. They strolled along the cement deck, heading toward the far side of the patio and the seats Josie’s grandparents preferred. Then Grandpa Sam spotted a golfing buddy.
Grandpa Sam stepped forward first to greet his friend, then Josie’s father was introduced. Josie imagined there had been a comment along the lines of “He’s a chip off the old block,” because the two looked so alike. Next her mother stepped up to meet the golfing buddy, and then Elizabeth was gently nudged forward and told to say hello politely. Everyone realized a few seconds later that Josie was missing.
“It was like you simply vanished,” Josie’s mother would say. “We all scanned the deck and you simply weren’t there. There was only one place you could be.”
Josie used to try to imagine those lost moments. She saw herself running to the edge of the pool, her feet never slowing as she reached the concrete lip. Then she was sinking, the cool blue swallowing her whole as ambient sounds were snuffed out. Had she seen the legs of any swimmers scissoring through the water, or had she felt utterly alone? She only remembered the silence.
Before her parents could act, there was a giant splash, and then an old man, who was so tanned his skin was like leather (Josie’s mother always included that observation with a tinge of disdain), surfaced, holding a sputtering, coughing Josie up by the back of her sundress. She’d been under for maybe twenty seconds.
Josie’s grandmother wanted to call for an ambulance, just to be safe, but Josie was screaming so loudly that her parents felt certain her lungs were undamaged (her mother included that detail every time, too).
What she remembered most clearly was her mother fussing over the sodden dress, which had been purchased especially for the trip. She recalled her father asking, in a voice loud enough to carry to the onlookers, how Josie had suddenly forgotten to swim when she’d been able to do a perfectly adequate dog paddle the previous summer.
She had felt her lips begin to quiver, but she knew if she cried, it would make everything worse.
She remembered wanting to disappear again.
• • •
Later that night, she awoke to the sounds of her parents’ loud voices. They sounded as if they were in the next room, but when Josie slipped out of bed and peered into the hallway, their voices grew softer. She returned to her room, and the voices increased in volume again. It was like playing a game of hot and cold.
She finally realized their argument was taking place on the beach, directly under the open window of the bedroom she was sharing with Elizabeth. Elizabeth slept through it all, but Josie clung to the window frame, watching.
Her parents didn’t yell, ever. Usually they were almost too polite with each other. They never cuddled on the sofa or called each other by nicknames.
They stood on the beach, facing each other but with several feet of distance between them, hurling grievances back and forth like a volleyball. One of them would shush the other, and their voices would briefly lower, but a second later, they’d crescendo again.
What Josie learned was this: her mother and Grandma Jocelyn, who always greeted each other with smiles and kisses on the cheek, didn’t actually like each other. Her father was trying to convince her mother otherwise, but her mother’s rebuttal floated up toward Josie:
She called me the name of your old girlfriend for the first year we were married!
Her father, who organized their annual trip to Florida to see his parents, actually hated coming here.
You think I want to spend a week of my vacation time sitting around a pool all day long?
The argument ended a minute or two later when Josie’s father abruptly turned and stalked away. Her mother stared at the ocean for a few moments, then she slowly began to walk back toward the condo building.
Josie ran to her bed and slipped under the covers, pulling the sheet up over her head. She grew warm and sweaty, but she didn’t poke out her face. Her parents might have seen her in the window. They might be standing in her doorway, waiting for her to ease the sheet down to take a breath of fresh air. She knew that the moment her mother and father glimpsed her expression, they’d realize she’d heard everything.
She finally fell asleep, and when she woke up, her mother was shaking her shoulder, saying it was time for breakfast. Josie sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes until her mother left the room, in an effort to hide her face. She waited until her father called her, this time with an edge in his voice, then she slowly walked into the dining room.
They were all seated around the shiny, dark-wood table, staring at her: her mother, her father, Grandpa Sam, Grandma Jocelyn, and Elizabeth.
Josie’s breath caught in her throat. The room was too quiet.
“Well, look who’s finally awake!” Grandma Jocelyn said.
“She’s a sleepyhead,” Josie’s mother chimed in. “Jocelyn, would you mind passing me the syrup?”
“Of course, honey,” Grandma Jocelyn said.
Josie eased into her chair. A pancake was on the plate before her.
“Here,” Josie’s mother said, pouring a thin trail of syrup around its edge. She was always skimpy with the syrup. “Eat up.”
“It’s a gorgeous day out,” Josie’s father said. “What time are we going to the pool?”
They were all smiling and talking. It was as if the previous night, with its sharp-edged words, had never happened at all.
Everyone was faking it, Josie thought as she looked around the oval table. The adults who admonished her to always speak the truth, who scolded her when she told a lie, were the biggest fibbers of all.
“You’re not feeling ill, are you, Josie?”
Her mother’s question cut through her thoughts.
For a terrible moment, Josie thought she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from crying out I heard you last night! She imagined her mother’s face falling, her father turning red with embarrassment. They might have to pack up and leave right away if Josie spoke the words she was yearning to release. She would ruin the vacation.
She shook her head and picked up her fork and took a bite of pancake.
The adults continued their conversation. The moment passed.
She’d joined in their game of pretend. She had become a faker, too.
• • •
Josie had signed her daughters up for swim lessons at the YMCA at an early age, possibly in a reaction to her own early childhood trauma. She’d managed to find group classes for both of them held simultaneously at the same pool on Tuesday afternoons, which had felt like a gift from the scheduling gods. Most of the parents sat on the bleachers that folded down from the wall on one side of the pool, passing the time on their phones or reading newspapers, occasionally looking up to shout “Good job!” at their kids.
There was a woman named Gabriella who had a son who’d been in the same class as Zoe for four years straight. She and Josie had fallen into a casual friendship during the confines of these thirty-minute sessions each week.
When Josie arrived at the pool on the Tuesday after Frank had moved out, it was the first lesson of the new winter session. The fall session had ended in December, before the holidays. Before Josie had learned about the affair.
Gabriella waved to her from the bleachers. Josie waved back, then walked Izzy over to her instructor, who held the class for the threes in the shallow end, before joining Gabriella.
“Have a good weekend?” Gabriell
a asked as Josie sat down beside her.
Josie’s mind flashed to Frank standing motionless in Zoe’s room. She recalled how still and empty the house had felt after he’d put the girls to bed and had returned to his apartment, how she’d lain awake for hours.
“Yeah,” Josie replied. “Just the usual. How about you?”
“We tried this new restaurant, Elbas, have you been?” Gabriella asked.
“No, what kind of food is it?”
“Mediterranean. It’s a little pricey, but so delish. You and your husband should go sometime.”
Josie nodded and tucked her ringless left hand, the one that was closest to Gabriella, behind her purse.
How did one drop into the conversation with an acquaintance that you were a completely different person than you were the last time she’d seen you?
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Josie said. Josie didn’t think she could handle sympathy right now. She didn’t want to have to reassure Gabriella that she was fine, and that the girls were, too. Nor could she fake it, not completely.
“Things with Frank are— Well, we’re in a bit of a rut.” Those words felt like a compromise. “We haven’t had a date night in a long time.”
Gabriella looked at her sharply. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, sure, we’re just not in the best place,” Josie said. She quickly added: “But it’ll be fine. We just need to go to marriage therapy and get a tune-up.”
She must have sounded convincing, because the worry in Gabriella’s face eased. Gabriella touched Josie’s arm. “Well, you’re lucky one of you didn’t have an affair,” she said.
Do not react. The command burst into Josie’s brain.
Josie forced herself to smile. “I know, right?”
She pulled her eyes away from Gabriella and turned to glance at Izzy in the pool, making sure her movements were fluid and unhurried.
“I mean, so many people are these days!” Gabriella lowered her voice; she seemed to be settling in for a juicy chat.
Do not cry.
“It’s true,” Josie said. Her mind whirled. She could pretend to be sick and say she needed to wait in her car. No, that would be too obvious.
“My college roommate told me she went on vacation with three other couples a couple of years ago. You are not going to believe this story. Anyway, they were all away for a week—just the adults, it was a kid-free trip—and they’d rented this big house in the Caribbean. And one night one of the women woke up, and oh my gosh, this is so awful—can you imagine?—but she woke up and her husband wasn’t in bed next to her. So she walks into the living room and sees him having sex with one of the other wives in the group!”
“Oh my gosh.” Josie was fascinated, despite herself. “What did she do?”
“She screamed so loudly she woke everyone in the house up. And then she packed her stuff and went to the airport even though it was the middle of the night, and she waited three hours for a flight home. And now they’re divorced.”
“Wow.”
If she revealed her story to too many people, this is what would happen: she would become a cautionary, gossipy tale. How would it begin, if Gabriella were telling it? Once I knew this woman who seemed so happy . . .
“Soooo scary,” Gabriella said. “I mean, it could happen to anyone.” Her attention was drawn to the pool. She jumped to her feet and clapped. “Oh my gosh! Did you see that? Noah just did the butterfly!”
“That’s amazing!” Josie cried. “Wow, I don’t think Zoe will be ready for that for another year.” She reached into her purse and pulled out her ChapStick, making sure to keep her left hand hidden.
The air was overly warm and moist. The chemical smell of chlorine filled her nose. She had to escape.
Wait one more minute.
“How is your son liking school this year, by the way?” Josie asked.
After Gabriella finished answering, Josie stood up.
“I need to run to the bathroom,” she said. “I think I’m going to hit the vending machine, too. Want anything?”
“No, I’m good.” Gabriella was already looking at her phone.
Josie eased out of the bleachers and walked slowly around the pool, trying to eat up as many seconds as she could. She went into the bathroom and ran cold water over her wrists, practicing taking slow breaths. Then she walked to the vending machines.
She surveyed the offerings, then pressed the button for a ginger ale. It thudded into the bottom of the machine and she popped the top, sipping the fizz that spilled over the lip of the can. She took a long drink, closing her eyes.
Then she slowly walked back into the pool area.
For the rest of the session, she peppered Gabriella with questions about how her holidays had been, and whether she’d read any good books lately, steering them into the safety of superficial topics. It was the type of conversation she’d had countless times before with other parents at school or sports functions, but never before had it taken so much effort.
At the end of the class, she was as spent as if she’d swum for the entire half hour.
She helped Izzy change and she gathered the wet suits and towels, tucking them into her mesh beach bag. She’d intended to swing by the grocery store on the way home, but she felt too depleted. She’d throw a frozen pizza into the oven, again, she decided. It was all she could handle.
She was strapping Izzy into her car seat when she received a text from Frank: Is it okay if I bring over stuff for tacos and cook for everyone tonight?
• • •
Their next session with Mike—Josie privately thought of it as separation therapy, rather than marital therapy—was scheduled for Friday evening at seven.
Frank picked up the girls to take them out for an early dinner. While he helped them into their coats, he asked Josie whether she wanted to ride together to the appointment.
She hesitated. “Okay. But let’s take my van.”
“Are you sure?” Frank asked. “I’m happy to drive so you can relax.”
Josie lowered her voice and twisted farther away from the girls. “You can drive the minivan. I’d rather not be in your car.”
She saw the understanding come into his eyes a moment later and he hung his head.
As soon as the door shut behind them, she walked upstairs, shucking off the hoodie and jeans she’d worn all day. She ran warm water in the bathtub and added a capful of the organic bubble bath she’d bought for the girls.
As she soaked in the tub, she tested herself, as she did from time to time. She allowed herself to imagine Frank and Dana together in the hotel room.
The scene, while still painful, was losing some of its overwhelming power over her. More recent images, like the intensity in Frank’s eyes as he’d told her he felt nothing for Dana, were commingling with her imaginings of what had happened between them that night.
Frank had never loved Dana. His memories of Dana would forever be tainted, too. It helped a little.
Josie pulled the plug and stepped out of the bathtub, into her terry-cloth robe. She ran a brush through her hair, then smoothed lotion over her skin.
She walked to her closet. Frank had left some of his summer things behind, and she’d spread out her clothes to fill in the gaps he’d left. But it still looked empty.
She reached for dark slacks and a sweater, then put on high-heeled boots. The high school senior from down the street, the one the girls adored, was coming at six thirty to babysit.
It occurred to Josie that to someone viewing her, it would appear as if she were getting ready for a date.
She pushed aside the thought and checked the clock. It was only a few minutes after six.
She went downstairs to sit in the quiet of her living room and have a glass of wine.
• • •
“I’ve got it,” Frank said, hurrying ahead of Josie to open the door to Mike’s office. He’d opened her car door for her, too.
This isn’t a date, Josie wanted to say.
The
long leather therapy sofa was waiting for them. Josie claimed her usual end, and Frank sat on his. They’d positioned themselves on the same sides they’d always slept on when they’d shared a bed, Josie realized.
Mike greeted them with his usual smile, a coffee cup in his hand.
“Who would like to start?” he asked.
“If it’s okay with Josie, I would.” Frank looked at her and Josie nodded.
Mike liked to begin with what he called housekeeping—smaller logistical issues—before Josie and Frank delved into their deeper feelings.
“My parents are coming to town next month,” Frank said. “My dad has a conference in Chicago, and my mom wants to hang out with us during the day. They asked if they could spend the weekend with us.”
“Do your parents know about the separation?” Mike asked.
Frank shook his head. “Ah, no. I hadn’t gotten a chance— No. They don’t.”
“Have you told anyone?” Josie twisted to face Frank. “Your brothers?”
“God, no, they’d be the last ones—” Frank cut himself off. “I’ve only told Tony.”
One of his oldest buddies, a guy Frank had known since high school. Tony lived in South Carolina and had been divorced for about a year. They barely saw him these days. Perhaps that was why Frank had chosen him, Josie thought.
“So if your parents come and stay with you, they would realize you and Josie are separated, and that you are no longer living in the house,” Mike said.
“Yeah, or— I guess I was thinking that they could stay in the guest room and they wouldn’t need to know I wasn’t living there.”
Josie frowned. “How would that work, exactly?”
“Well, we could all have dinner and I could hang out in the living room until after they go to bed. And then I could come back the next morning and bring bagels. If they woke up and noticed I was gone, the bagels would explain it.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought.” Mike summed up what Josie was thinking. “Would you really rather create this scenario than tell your parents the truth about what is going on?”
The Ever After Page 19
