“You’re not serious,” said Ellie, eyes wide, a small smile on her face.
“Oh, I am, indeed, serious,” said Joan.
“That,” said Alice, “is ridiculous.”
Joan reached for the cream so she could put it in her coffee as soon as it was set down in front of her. “Welcome to the Howard family.”
“You have got to shake things up a bit, Joan. Seriously, I think the Howard women would thank you.”
Joan stirred her coffee. “The Howard women would think I was out of my mind. And they would be pissed at me for messing with their sweet deal.”
“So, none of them wants to work?”
Joan hesitated. “I don’t think so. At least working has never been discussed when we are together.”
“So they enjoy being kept women?”
And while Joan didn’t think any of Stephen’s family members would consider themselves kept, it was easier to agree than to explain. “I guess so.”
“Well, think about it,” said Ellie. “I think you’d be an awesome teacher.” Joan shifted her gaze to Ellie and, for a moment, considered telling her friends about the robbery in the women’s room. She had not yet told Stephen she was robbed, mostly because he was absorbed in his own problems. The money she had lost was a considerable sum, but it was play money, meaning it was Joan’s to use at her discretion. Stephen didn’t ask her how she spent it. Although he had just the other night told her to consider operating without a weekly allowance until he found another job and to start wearing the clothes she already had in her closet.
CHAPTER 29
Since she had revealed to Diana at the pet store the day after her lunch with Joan that she, too, was gay, Ellie regularly fantasized about what it would be like to live with Diana, to be with Diana all the time. They would share a house with enough room for the two of them and their two dogs—and there would be additional bedrooms for visiting children. They would do everything together, from gardening, raking the leaves, and other household chores to walking the dogs, meeting new friends, and talking about their communal goals. And they would sleep in the same bed. As Ellie pulled her car into the pet store parking lot, she stopped thinking about a life with Diana. She knew how foolish, and dangerous, it was to daydream about something that could never happen. Ellie would never leave her husband. He might forgive her, but her family never would.
Just the previous Sunday, the Kilcullens had gathered for an Easter celebration. It had been a mild, sunny day, and the grandchildren, who ranged in age from five to twenty-six, spent almost an hour searching for colored hard-boiled eggs hidden, as tradition dictated, by the Kilcullen sons. The eggs had all been dyed pastel colors by the wives, who had also carefully written the names of the dozen grandchildren present on six eggs each. The age of the child determined the difficulty of the hunt, meaning the eggs assigned to the five-year-old were out in the open and easy to see, and those intended for the older grandchildren were harder to ferret out: of the stones that comprised the boundary wall surrounding the property or in the knotholes in trees. The men even buried some eggs, forcing those in their teens and twenties to look for signs of fresh ground disturbance. While the children searched, the grown-ups sat on the Kilcullens’ huge sun porch, drinking Brigid’s Bloody Marys, and discussing whatever casually came up in conversation. They were talking about baseball, Ellie remembered, when two of her nieces, one six and one seven, ran, holding hands, to their grandfather, the hunt scorekeeper and rules master. One of her brothers had pointed out the scene as pretty damn cute, and another, who was on his third drink, called the girls, neither one of them his, future lesbians. The men all laughed, even Chris; Ellie was silent.
“What’s the matter, El?” asked Sean. “You got no sense of humor today?”
“I don’t think your remark was funny.”
“He’s just horsing around,” said William. “He doesn’t really think Sophie and Brady are gay.”
“No,” said Sean. “And anyway, the lesbians don’t start licking each other off until they get to high school.” Aiden spit out his drink and guffawed. Ellie stood and left the room. She walked through the living room and into the dining room that held two long tables she had set when they arrived at the house after church. Ellie walked into the kitchen, where her mother, apron on the minute after she had shed her camel hair coat, was stirring the hollandaise sauce that was warming on the stove top.
“Can I help you?” asked Ellie, kissing her mother’s cheek and pushing the conversation on the porch into the back of her brain.
“You have already been a big help,” Brigid said. “Now, if I could only get your brothers to help, I could finally put my feet up.” Ellie smiled at her mother, knowing what she had just said were just words. They had been said before; they would be said again. Brigid had waited on her sons from the moment they had expectations of her to do so. To be fair, she had attended to Ellie’s needs for a while, too. But Ellie, having what her father called a kind and generous soul from early childhood, had refused Brigid’s help midway through elementary school, and, instead, had offered hers. And so it had been some time since Brigid had fussed over her daughter. She liked to cook alone, Brigid did, but she was pleased to have help transporting the food from the kitchen to the warming units on the dining room sideboard. “Where are we on the hunt, Ellie?”
Ellie looked at her watch. “I think we’ll be wrapping up in another ten minutes or so.”
“Good,” said Brigid, on her way to the fridge. She reached in for a freshly made pitcher of Bloody Marys. “Why don’t you head back to the porch, refill glasses, and let everyone know the meal will be served as soon as the hunt ends.” She handed the pitcher to Ellie. When Ellie got back to the porch, her brothers were gone, having joined their wives out on the lawn to witness what they always called the photo finish. Once the grandchildren had all their eggs, either in their hands or in a basket, they had to sprint to their grandfather and touch his outstretched hand before they could be declared the winner. The brothers had forgotten all about Sean’s comment on the porch because it had had no impact on them; what he had said was no more incendiary than an offhand remark about the weather, for everyone on the porch, except for Ellie.
Shifting her thoughts to the present, Ellie parked and got out of her car, and then walked through the pet store door, triggering the electronic bell. She waved at Shawna, who had looked up from her paperwork behind the counter and smiled, before walking to the back of the store and into Diana’s office. Diana, who was on the phone, waved Ellie in, and then held up the index finger of her left hand to indicate that she would be off and available in a minute. “Of course, I’m disappointed,” Diana said to the person on the other end of the line. “We love your product, and our customers love your product. Do you have any suggestions for an alternative?” Ellie removed her coat and sat in the chair facing Diana’s desk. She studied Diana’s face, framed by soft hair that was not bound at the back of her head as it normally was. Her lips were gently stretched into a slight smile as she talked. And when she looked up from her paperwork and again made eye contact with Ellie, the same jolt that Ellie had felt the day she met Diana—that she felt every time she was with her—fired up her heart rate. “I see,” said Diana. “Well, the best of luck to you in your retirement. I’m sorry you couldn’t talk your children into taking over for you. Yes, the world is a bigger place now. Thanks, Fred.” Diana hung up the phone and smiled at Ellie. “How are you today?”
“From the sound of your conversation, I must be better than you.”
“Oh, it’s not that big a deal, really,” said Diana. “Fred is one of our suppliers. He makes incredible dog food—all natural, reasonably priced—and he’s closing down his production plant outside of Hartford at the end of the month. The man is seventy-five years old. I can hardly blame him.”
“Boy, I hope I’m not working when I’m seventy-five.”
Diana closed the manila folder that had been open in front of her and se
t it aside. She leaned back in her chair and stretched her hands over her head. She smiled at Ellie. “What do you want to be doing when you’re seventy-five?”
“I don’t know,” said Ellie. “But whatever it is, I’d like to be doing it with you.”
Diana’s smile quickly faded as she lowered her arms and righted herself. “Ellie?”
Ellie closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I just told you that I’m gay, and that I now want to completely change my life, so that I can have a relationship with the first lesbian I’ve ever known.”
“Actually,” said Diana, “I was thinking how nice it would be to be with you. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I do feel like we are kindred spirits.”
Ellie shook her head. “It can never happen.”
“Because of your husband and sons?”
“Because of my mother, father, and six brothers.”
Diana stood. “I’m going to get another cup of coffee. Would you like some?”
“I’d love some,” said Ellie. “Cream and sugar.”
“I remember,” said Diana. “I’ll be right back.”
Ellie had surprised herself by her response to Diana’s question. Most people considering quitting their marriage would be most concerned, she guessed, with those directly involved—in her case, with her husband, Chris, and her sons, Brandon and Tim. But they were not the first obstacle that came to mind for Ellie; instead, it was the Kilcullen family, with its Roman Catholic conservatism and political profile. As a state senator, her father had always voted alongside the right-wing Republicans, espousing fiscal responsibility and family values. What would happen to him, to his political gravitas, if he had to reveal to his like-minded colleagues that his only daughter was gay? Ellie knew what would happen; they would turn their backs on him. And his Republican, born-again Christian constituents would vote him out of office. He would end his tenure in the senate not as a champion of morality, but as a disgraced failure, as someone who couldn’t keep his own house in order.
Diana walked back into her office carrying two mugs of coffee, both emblazoned with Diana’s Pet Supply logos. She set one of the mugs down on the desk in front of Ellie, and she walked the other one to the other side of the desk and sat down in her chair. “So,” Diana said, “why do you feel like you cannot tell your extended family?”
“I can’t tell anybody,” said Ellie, wrapping her fingers around the coffee mug. “I’m not like you, Diana. I can’t do this.”
“Ellie, it’s okay. We’re just talking. You don’t have to do anything today.”
“And I won’t be able to do anything tomorrow or the day after. I will never be ready to do this.”
“If you are resolved to tell your family, you will be surprised at your strength and ability to do so. It’s the depth of your conviction that will see you through this,” said Diana, reaching for her mug. “When you are ready, you will do it. When you can no longer live the life you are living, you will have the conversation that you have rehearsed a hundred times in your mind.”
“That’s so easy to say.”
Diana raised her eyebrows at Ellie. “It may be easy to say, in your opinion, but it isn’t easy to do. I’ve done this, Ellie. I’ve done what you are contemplating. So I have a little bit of experience here.”
“I understand that,” said Ellie. “But your family is not like my family.”
Diana sipped her coffee. “Maybe, just maybe, Ellie, your family will be more reasonable than you think. From what you tell me, from the stories you share, I can tell there’s a lot of love in the Kilcullen family.”
“It’s conditional love,” said Ellie. “There are rules that have to be followed.”
“So then it’s up to you to decide if you are able to stretch or even break the rules in the pursuit of happiness.”
“I cannot break the rules,” said Ellie, standing and reaching for her coat. “I will never be able to break the rules. I cannot be with you. I cannot be gay. I’m sorry, Diana. I have to go.” Ellie rushed out of the office and out of the store, and once in her car, out of the parking lot. All the way home, she told herself that she would carry on with her life as she had been living it. She would be a straight mother to her boys; a loving wife to her husband; an obedient daughter. But by the time she parked her car in the driveway, she admitted that, at this point, she wasn’t sure she could continue to live a lie, now that she had defined it. She had been doing it for too long, denying her true feelings for too long, going through the motions for too long. There was only one way to go now, and that was forward, even though she was terrified of doing so. Tears came to her eyes, and her hand trembled as she unlocked the back door. At that very moment, she was convinced that, if she had to continue living a lie, then she would rather not continue living.
CHAPTER 30
“Just the fact that he’s had three interviews is amazing,” said Ellie. “Is he using a headhunter?”
“He is,” said Joan. “That and social media. Cassie has helped tremendously with his LinkedIn page.”
“Social media is such a good way to make quick connections,” said Alice. “Remember what it did for our Kensington store opening? He’ll be back to work in no time.”
“I sure hope so,” said Joan. “Because having him around the house is definitely messing with my mojo. I feel like I need to entertain him all the time when all I really want to do is get my own stuff done—and to be alone.”
“He must be spending some time on the computer,” said Ellie. “And then he’s had these interviews.”
Joan sipped her cold tap water, a poor substitute for the peppery taste of vodka. Since Stephen had been home for three weeks and, had therefore, been aware of her comings and goings, she had spent considerably fewer hours at the casino. She had been back since the robbery in the women’s room because she had convinced herself that changing her behavior as a result of the incident would prolong its effects—a specious theory. She went back to the casino because she loved playing roulette. So, she had gone three times in that span, citing a list of errands on her way out the door, instead of three or four times that amount. And she missed it. She missed the confidence, the sense of independence that the casino instilled in her. She missed nurturing, giving in to her resurrected attraction to risk and adventure. She missed the gambling. She missed the drinking. Sure, she and Stephen sometimes had a drink before dinner, but it was so calculated, so measured. At the moment, he was overly mindful of keeping his head clear, so he was drinking just one gin and tonic. Opportunity could present itself, he had said more than once, during an evening phone call. “Yes,” said Joan, responding to Ellie. “He’s on the computer and making calls in the morning. But by late morning, he emerges from the study and wonders what I am up to. It doesn’t feel right, somehow, to be sitting on the living room couch with a novel in my hands. If I’m balancing the checkbook, that’s fine. But he doesn’t seem to understand my leisure time. In fact, he asked me the other day what, exactly, I did each day to fill my time. ‘When is it,’ he asked, ‘that you do something productive?’”
“Wait a minute,” said Alice. “Didn’t he put you in this position in the first place? I mean, he doesn’t, or didn’t, want you to work, right?”
“You are absolutely right, Alice,” said Joan. “And that was all fine and good when he didn’t have to witness my goofing off.”
“So get out of the house,” said Ellie. “Make up some errands.”
“I do get out of the house,” said Joan. “But he questions me upon my return. Where were you? Who were you with? And staying away from my house for no reason seems ridiculous.”
“He’s being ridiculous,” said Alice. “Has he always been like this?”
“God no,” said Joan. “He has been wrapped up in his banking world since he left college. The only thing he really cared about on the home front was that the girls were well looked after and that dinner
was served at seven.”
“That stinks,” said Alice.
Joan shook her head in an attempt at refuting Alice’s implication that someone else, namely Stephen, had joined Dave in the doghouse. “Look,” she said. “I’m making this out to be a bigger deal than it is. Stephen has always been very supportive of my doing whatever leisure and volunteer activities I choose. He’s simply at a loss now that he is not working. As soon as he gets back to an office, his scrutiny of my life will cease and desist. He will have a bunch of new people to manage.”
Ellie bit into the second half of her Very Grown-Up Grilled Cheese, which featured four kinds of cheese, pesto, pine nuts, and spinach leaves. “Have you talked to him about getting a job?”
“No,” said Joan. “He is definitely not in the right frame of mind for that discussion.” Joan had also not yet had a conversation with Stephen about the robbery at the casino. She’d told him she’d left her wedding rings in a restaurant bathroom, after taking them off to rub lotion into her hands. And when she realized she had walked out of the women’s room without them and raced back, the rings were gone. The jewelry was insured, so it was not going to be a problem to replace them. But Stephen had been surprised by and disappointed in her carelessness. He had not asked about the earrings, since Joan hadn’t worn them every day. But she had worn the rings every minute since Stephen had given them to her, and her finger, her hand, still felt odd without them.
“Hey, where are your rings?” asked Alice, as if she had been inside Joan’s head. “I don’t think you had them on at our last lunch either.”
“How would you know that?” asked Joan.
“Because your engagement ring is huge and gorgeous. It’s hard to miss, especially if you’re a ring gawker like I am.”
“They’re being reset,” said Joan.
“Yeah? I’d like to reset mine,” said Alice, “to something much bigger! I mean, there is something sentimental and sweet about having the engagement ring that your husband-to-be gave you when he was young and broke. But there is something fantastic about having a huge ring that everyone looks at.”
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