Sisters and Husbands

by Connie Briscoe

  She shook her head, and he motioned for her to sit on a dreary gray couch as he sat across from her in a hardback chair and switched the television off with the remote. “So what brings you here at”—he checked his watch—“barely ten o’clock in the morning on a weekday? Don’t you have clients?”

  “I canceled them. I really want us to talk, and when I called the store they told me that you were off today.”

  He leaned back, tilting the chair on two legs. She hated it when he did that. She worried that he would fall and bust his head wide open. Normally she would have said something and he would have protested, but not today. She wanted to preserve the peace so they could talk calmly.

  “I’m not sure there’s much to discuss yet,” he said, rubbing his hand across his scalp. “I’m still thinking. But you go ahead. Say what’s on your mind.”

  She clasped her hands. “I don’t know where to start, really. It feels strange, talking to you here like this. You keep saying you haven’t made any decisions, but I need to know what’s going to happen with us sooner rather than later. I need to know what you’re planning to do, even if it’s just a guess for now. It’s not fair to leave me hanging for weeks at a time with no clue whatsoever.”

  He nodded with understanding. “It’s not that I want to leave you hanging. That’s not my intent at all. I honestly haven’t made any final decisions yet. I just know that I can’t go on the way we are, living the lifestyle we have. It leaves me feeling completely empty. It even repulses me.” He paused when he saw her flinch. “Sorry, but that’s the truth as best as I can give it to you now. You want the truth, right?”

  She nodded and he continued.

  “I know you think it was crazy to leave the law firm, but it’s the best thing I’ve done lately. I was able to start clearing my head and do more thinking about what I do and don’t want out of life. Mostly so far it’s what I don’t want.”

  “And am I one of the things you’ve decided you don’t want anymore?”

  He glanced down at his fingers, then looked directly at her. “I can’t answer that yet.”

  “Truthfully?” she asked. “Or are you reluctant to tell me what you’re really thinking? Don’t worry about hurting my feelings.”

  “That’s the truth. I haven’t made any decisions yet. You’ll be the first to know when I do.”

  “Do you still love me, Kevin?” The question had come out of the blue, and as soon as she asked she regretted it. She could see that it had taken him by surprise. She had a sudden sinking feeling that she might not like his response.

  He cleared his throat. “Of course I do. But, you know, if I’m honest with you, not in the way I once did.”

  “What exactly does that mean?”

  “We’ve shared a lot together. We have a son and daughter who mean the world to me. I have fond memories of a lot of the things we did together as a family. But to be perfectly honest—again, that’s what you want, right?”

  She nodded slowly.

  “I’m not attracted to you in a romantic way anymore.”

  There it was, she thought. He’d admitted it, and it felt like a stab in the gut. “I see.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead with her fingers. Talk about crushed. She knew this kind of an answer was entirely possible, but a part of her had stupidly hoped for the best, that he continued to love her in all the ways that a husband should. How was she supposed to deal with the ugly truth now that he had revealed it?

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was watching her intensely, waiting for her to respond.

  “That hurts. I won’t lie.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She bit her bottom lip to hold back the tears creeping up. What was the point in him being sorry? It was what it was. “How long have you felt this way?”

  “A couple of years now, I guess. I tried to accept it at first. I told myself that it was normal for my feelings to change, given how long we’ve been married. And maybe it is normal for some couples. But I realize now that I don’t want to live that way, and it’s not fair to me or to you to pretend that I feel something I don’t.”

  She was silent. He had just dropped the biggest bomb on her D-day, and she wasn’t sure how to react. A part of her wanted to yell and cuss him out. But for what? For leading her on all this time and not being truthful? Maybe. What really hurt was learning that his feelings for her had changed, and he couldn’t exactly help that. In her work, she had often heard about this kind of situation, and she knew that getting upset with him wouldn’t do a bit of good. If anything, that kind of response could lead to his clamming up again. At least he was finally opening up about his thoughts and feelings.

  “I’m glad you’re being honest with me,” she said. “It’s a shock, but I prefer to hear the truth.”

  “I know you’re probably going to tell me that it can be fixed,” he said, a hesitant smile on his face.

  She smiled in return. “I don’t know if I’d use that word. Certainly I don’t think we can go back to what we once had. But it doesn’t have to mean the end of the road for us. It is possible to get passion and feelings back if you work at it.”

  “I tried to tell myself that for a while, but I eventually realized that it’s not just you that my feelings have changed about; it’s the whole lifestyle we live. I want to change my life in ways that I know you couldn’t deal with. That’s what I’ve been agonizing over.”

  “What do you want to change?” she asked.

  “The whole upper-middle-class suburbia thing we’re living. It was fine for a while, when we were raising the kids. But there’s so much more that I want to see and do while I can still stand up straight.”

  “But you don’t have to be divorced to do those things.”

  “I’m not talking about making temporary or small changes. Or even taking a long trip. I’m talking big, permanent change, Evelyn. I see myself moving to New York City or Atlanta or even overseas somewhere in Africa. I don’t see myself ever coming back to the McMansion and the suburban manicured lawn. I couldn’t practice law because I’d be moving from place to place, living cheaply and simply. I would certainly come back here to visit the kids and my mom, but that’s about it. Could you give all this up and live like that?”

  Evelyn blinked hard and stared at him for a moment. She had wanted honesty, and boy, was she getting that. She realized now that Kevin had changed at the core in more ways than she had imagined. When and how did this happen? “That is drastic.”

  “You know what they say, be careful what you ask for. You asked for the whole story.”

  Yes, she thought. And he had really put it all out there. She sighed deeply. She needed a moment to digest it. “Do you mind if I have that glass of water now?”

  “Sure.” He stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  He went off to the kitchen area, and she walked around the main room of the tiny studio apartment. He had placed lots of photographs of Rebecca and Andre around the room and even a small one of her on a side table. Everything else was foreign to her—chairs, couch, tables. It felt as if a stranger lived here, not her husband.

  She stopped and looked out the lone window in the room. And was that what he had become? A stranger? Was the man she had known and loved all these years lost forever? She couldn’t answer that now, but she had to begin to consider it no matter how much it pained her.

  At least they were talking, and she knew that she had to be careful not to act like a fool as he opened up to her. Although Kevin seemed to be fairly sure that their marriage was over—and she realized more than ever now that he might be right about that—she wasn’t ready to give up yet. She had seen this countless times in her therapy sessions: one spouse wanting to call it quits, or at least thinking he or she did; the other clinging to the last thread of hope. She had also seen couples bounce back from the brink of divorce and restore their happy marriages. It didn’t happen often, but it did happen. She was no good as a therapist or as a wife if she didn’t
give their relationship her very best effort.

  Kevin returned, and as Evelyn accepted a plastic glass of water from him, she realized that he looked far more relaxed with her than he had in months. It was probably a relief to him to finally get all of this out.

  “Why didn’t you share this with me sooner?” she asked as they both sat back down.

  “I wanted to, believe me. But I didn’t really understand what was happening at first. I just knew that I was feeling uneasy. It was only when I began to make changes in my life—leaving the law firm, getting rid of the designer suits—that I started to realize why I felt so bad. By the time I moved out earlier this month, it was clear to me that I needed to make major changes, but I wasn’t sure I could go through with it. I’m still not sure I can pick up and run off the way I just talked about. A part of me wants to, but it’s a huge change.”

  “You said something interesting. When you left your previous law firm and started your own ten years ago, were you starting to feel all of this then?”

  “I think that was the beginning,” he said. “I didn’t understand what it was then. I just knew that I wasn’t very happy. I thought starting my own law firm would solve the problems, but it didn’t.”

  She nodded.

  “So there you have it,” he said.

  “Sounds like you want to make changes but haven’t made up your mind just how many yet.”

  “Pretty much,” he agreed.

  So the door was still open, she thought, even if only by a crack. There was still a possibility of saving their marriage.

  “Tell me,” he said after taking a sip of his water. “What are your thoughts about all of this?”

  They were talking truth, right. She wasn’t going to hold back, either. “Basically, I think you’re being a selfish bastard and very inconsiderate of me and the kids.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough. So that—”

  “Hold on,” she said, interrupting. “I’m just getting started. You could have let me in on what was going on a heck of a lot sooner, even if you were only guessing, rather than leave me in the dark for months on end. Not understanding why you were doing these things bothered me more than anything. I mean, I knew something was horribly wrong, yet I had no clue what it was.”

  “I was trying to spare your feelings until I knew more.”

  “It didn’t work.”

  “I see that now.”

  “So where do we go from here, Kevin? What do we do?” A voice in her head wanted to know why in the hell was she asking him that. Shouldn’t she be telling him it was over, given that he had so little left to give? But she wasn’t ready to do that. She wanted her marriage to work.

  He fiddled with his glass. “Like I said, I’m still trying to figure that out.”

  “We should see a counselor.”

  “Maybe,” he said, his voice full of reluctance. “Give me some time to think about that.”

  “How much time?”

  “Not much.”

  “I need something more definite,” she insisted. “This isn’t just about you, you know.”

  “Okay, I’ll call you this weekend and we’ll talk then.”

  “And you’ll be ready to make some decisions?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Just be sure you call.” She placed her empty glass on the coffee table and stood. “Are you still planning to come to Beverly’s wedding?”

  He stood up after her. “Oh, yeah. She’s like a baby sister to me. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

  Evelyn wanted to ask if they could go together, but she didn’t want him to think she was pushing. Then she thought she was acting silly. She had known this man for ages. She shouldn’t be afraid to ask him something so simple. “Rebecca is coming home for the wedding. We could all go together.”

  “Rebecca told me she was going to be here, and I told her I’d see her at the wedding. Let’s leave it at that for now.”

  “What’s the big deal about us going together? It’s not like I’m asking you to move back in. Just…” Evelyn paused and reminded herself not to be pushy. “Never mind. That should be fine. I’ll wait for your call this weekend.”

  They walked to the door, and he kissed her on the cheek as he opened it. She left without another word between them, and he shut the door behind her.

  She paused at the bottom of the stairs. She had just been reminded of what it felt like to be rejected by a man. You’d put your feelings out there and he’d slapped them away. She hadn’t felt that since dating before she met and married Kevin. This sickening feeling was further motivation to do everything in her power to avoid becoming single again.

  Chapter 21

  As soon as the clock struck noon, Charmaine rushed out the door of her office and ran down the back stairs to the building’s parking lot. It was kind of hard to gather speed in one of her trademark skintight skirts and a pair of four-inch heels. She had to take lots of baby steps and probably looked like a fool. That was what she got for trying to look so cute all the damn time.

  But this situation with Kenny and Tiffany was urgent, and Charmaine really didn’t care much about her appearance at the moment. Her boss was in the middle of preparing a big budget report, and she hadn’t been able to get away from the office until her lunch hour. She had to come right back to work after her lunch break.

  She tossed her shoulder bag onto the passenger seat of her Honda and sped off. This mess with Kenny and Tiffany had to happen now. Thank God she worked and lived in Columbia and could get home in ten minutes. The house line had been busy every time she’d called just before she left the office, and she couldn’t get through to Tyrone or Kenny on their cell phones. What the hell was going on over there? She prayed that everything was all right and that she wasn’t about to walk into World War III.

  She wove in and out of traffic, trying not to drive too fast, until she pulled up to the house. The first thing she saw was Tyrone’s SUV parked in the driveway. She entered the garage, quickly jumped out of the car, ran up to the door, and shoved her key into the lock. The door swung open, and Kenny sat at the kitchen table holding his cell phone to his ear. He covered the mouthpiece. “Where you been, Ma?”

  “I couldn’t get off work. I tried to call you on your cell phone just before I left the office, but if you’re on the phone, how do you expect me to reach you?”

  Kenny said good-bye to the person on the other end of the line and hung up. “I thought you would call the house if you couldn’t get through on my cell.”

  “That phone line has been busy all morning too.”

  “Oh, crap. That bitch probably been on the line running her fat mouth.”

  Charmaine reached out with an open hand and popped her son upside the back of his head. Kenny yelped. “Ouch!” he said, jumping up and rubbing his head. “What you do that for?”

  “Don’t you cuss like that around me, and don’t you ever let me hear you calling her names again. You know I don’t like that.” She grabbed Kenny’s shoulder and steered him into the living room. The room was rarely used, so it was the best place to talk in private. She directed Kenny to the couch and sat next to him. “Where’s Tyrone?”

  “Downstairs in his office.”

  “And Tiffany?”

  “Up in her room.”

  Charmaine nodded. “Now tell me what happened between you and her this morning.”

  “Like I said, we were playing tennis on the Wii and I reached back like this”—he swung one arm back to demonstrate—“and hit her in the mouth. It was an accident.”

  “Didn’t I tell you to be careful on that thing?” she asked.

  “I know. I forgot.”

  “Uh-huh,” Charmaine murmured. Kids! It was always something. “Why do you think she’s saying you did it on purpose?”

  Kenny shrugged. “She’s lying. I know that much. Tyrone believes her, of course.”

  “What did he say to you when he came in?”

  “He asked me why I hit her. Said
I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Really? Did he say anything to her?”

  Kenny shook his head. “He thinks it’s all my fault. Why doesn’t he believe me?”

  Charmaine folded her arms across her chest. This was starting to look ugly, and she dreaded having to confront Tyrone about it. But she had no choice. She couldn’t let him and his daughter walk all over Kenny. “I’ll go talk to him. You go on up to your room and watch television or something.”

  “You believe me, don’t you, Ma?”

  She touched his cheek. Although his voice sounded defiant, his expression was crestfallen. She knew his feelings had been hurt deeply. “Of course I believe you, Kenny. I know you’d never harm her or anyone else on purpose. Tyrone doesn’t know you as well as I do. That’s why I need to talk to him.”

  He smiled slightly. “Thanks, Ma.”

  Kenny stood and walked off, and Charmaine went to find Tyrone, willing herself to be levelheaded about this. It would do no good to start ranting and raving, no matter how much she was tempted to do so. “You attract more flies with honey than with vinegar,” she muttered under her breath, repeating the old line over and over to herself.

  She walked down the stairs and entered Tyrone’s office without knocking. At the sound of his door opening, he wheeled around in his swivel chair to face her. She stood several feet away, her arms folded tightly across her waist, and spoke with studied calmness. “Kenny tells me that you think he hit Tiffany on purpose. That true?”

  “That’s what Tiffany said. I believe her.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Tyrone. Kenny wouldn’t harm a fly deliberately. You should know that.”

  “Tiffany wouldn’t lie,” he said firmly.

  “Neither would Kenny when he has no reason to.”

  “He might if he’s done something he knows was wrong.”

  “He didn’t do anything wrong,” she countered. “It was an accident.”

  “If you really believe that, then you must think that Tiffany made up a lie about him.”

  “I don’t know what she’s doing,” Charmaine said. “But they have a huge rivalry going on.”