Beside Herself
Page 1
ADVANCE PRAISE FOR BESIDE HERSELF
“Elizabeth LaBan’s characters are so immediately relatable that I defy any reader not to lose herself inside these pages. From their pain, passion, and vulnerability, I saw into the making and unmaking of a marriage—and found myself desperate to know what could come next for a loving—and daring—wife like Hannah. Whether your heart is skipping in a moment of anguish or soaring at a moment of triumph, you will be moved. Powerful and poignant, Beside Herself is a must-read of the year!”
—Kelly Harms, author of The Overdue Life of Amy Byler
“Elizabeth LaBan’s chatty, familiar style instantly drew me into the drama of the story and kept me entertained throughout. A perfect poolside read!”
—Cynthia Ellingsen, Amazon Charts bestselling author of The Lighthouse Keeper
“Beside Herself is a heartwarming love story with a unique twist on the aftermath of an affair. With a full cast of sympathetic characters—and the cutest little boy, Linc—readers travel deep inside the complex layers of contemporary family life and a marriage that has lost its way. An outstanding choice for a book club.”
—Barbara Claypole White, bestselling author of The Perfect Son and The Promise Between Us
“When Hannah Bent discovers her husband, Joel, has had an affair, she knows she needs to find a way to make herself feel okay again. Why not have an affair herself to even the score? Elizabeth LaBan has written a heartfelt and surprising novel about a woman’s quest to restore her self-esteem and survive betrayal—as she embarks on a journey of discovering just what love really means. I could not stop turning the pages to see what was going to happen!”
—Maddie Dawson, bestselling author of Matchmaking for Beginners
PRAISE FOR NOT PERFECT
“If you haven’t read Elizabeth LaBan, her latest novel, Not Perfect, is the perfect place to start. It’s a domestic mystery starring Tabitha Brewer, a suburban housewife who wakes up one morning to find her husband gone and her life changed forever. Tabitha is a wonderfully relatable heroine, and you’ll cheer her on, despite the fact that she has a few secrets—or maybe because of them! I love this book!”
—Lisa Scottoline, New York Times bestselling author
“With humor and elegance, Elizabeth LaBan explores the burden of perfection and the futility of seeking it in Not Perfect. Funny and real, poignant and charming, Tabitha is a delight as she falls from grace, from perfect mother and wife to pilfering food and money to keep her family afloat, until she realizes that perfect is overrated. This novel is a gift for anyone who has struggled to wear a mask or keep up an appearance, which is essentially all of us.”
—Amulya Malladi, bestselling author of A House for Happy Mothers and The Copenhagen Affair
“Not Perfect is near perfect. Warm, but not cloying. Moral, but not preachy. A beautiful meditation on redemption.”
—Kathy Cooperman, bestselling author of Crimes Against a Book Club
“Not Perfect is a captivating story about keeping up appearances, written with a perfect blend of humor and drama. Tabitha is delightfully human and flawed, and her struggle to preserve the balance of her world in the face of her missing husband (where is Stuart, anyway?) is highly relatable. A fun read that manages to also be thought provoking.”
—Kerry Anne King, author of Closer Home and I Wish You Happy
PRAISE FOR PRETTY LITTLE WORLD
“LaBan and DePino pen an engrossing work, rife with real familial and marital issues . . . This duo is one to watch. An excellent choice for fans of Emily Giffin and Jennifer Weiner.”
—Booklist, Starred Review
“A wonderful commentary on community, family, friendship, and questioning what these values mean in our lives.”
—Library Journal
“Pretty Little World is an intriguing novel about the walls individuals put up around themselves when the physical walls come down. LaBan and DePino navigate through the lives of three families in an engaging and unconventional way, and they are not afraid to hit on hard topics . . . An interesting story that competently tackles the concept of codependency and individuality.”
—RT Book Reviews
“When the literal walls come down among neighbors in adjoining Philadelphia row houses, three young families have the chance to create their own urban utopia. But can they pull it off? Elizabeth LaBan and Melissa DePino pack Pretty Little World full of gourmet meals, marital scandal, inquisitive neighbors, and friendships whose bonds are sorely tested. The result is a skilled, funny, and highly engaging examination of family, love, and marriage in the City of Brotherly Love. This book is a win.”
—Meg Mitchell Moore, author of The Admissions
“Do good fences really make good neighbors? That’s the question at the heart of LaBan and DePino’s intriguing novel. Brimming with astute observations and chock full of surprises until the very last page, Pretty Little World offers a fresh, unexpected look at friendship and marriage.”
—Camille Pagán, author of Life and Other Near-Death Experiences
“Hilarious, relatable, and surprisingly complex, the families in this engaging novel truly touched my heart. I laughed, I cried—I cringed!—but mostly I recognized their longing to feel true community in a world that often makes us feel so alone.”
—Loretta Nyhan, author of Digging In, All the Good Parts, Empire Girls, and I’ll Be Seeing You
PRAISE FOR THE RESTAURANT CRITIC’S WIFE
“A tender, charming, and deliciously diverting story about love, marriage, and how your restaurant-review sausage gets made. The Restaurant Critic’s Wife is compulsively readable and richly detailed, a guilt-free treat that will have you devouring every word.”
—Jennifer Weiner, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Mrs. Everything, Good in Bed, and Best Friends Forever
“Elizabeth LaBan’s novel The Restaurant Critic’s Wife stirs in love and intrigue, making for a savory delight that pairs perfectly with your armchair. Prepare to be charmed!”
—Elin Hilderbrand, author of The Perfect Couple and The Rumor
“A heartfelt and relatable look at a woman navigating the difficulties of marriage and motherhood—while struggling to maintain a sense of self. Written with charm, honesty, and an insider’s eye into a usually hidden slice of the restaurant world, it’s a winning recipe.”
—Sarah Pekkanen, internationally bestselling author of An Anonymous Girl, The Wife Between Us, and Things You Won’t Say
“In her debut novel for adults, Elizabeth LaBan cooks up a delectable buffet about motherhood, friendship, ambition, and romance (albeit one in need of a little more spice). She captures the essence of life with small children (smitten with a side of hysteria) and weaves a relatable, charming love story with the flair of an expert baker turning out a flawless lattice crust. LaBan’s four-star story has the satisfying effect of a delicious meal shared with friends you can’t wait to see again.”
—Elisabeth Egan, author of A Window Opens
“Two things engage me when it comes to fiction—characters I want to spend more time with and details, the juicier the better, from a world I’m curious about but not likely to ever experience. Elizabeth LaBan’s novel The Restaurant Critic’s Wife has both . . . The best part? Ms. LaBan really is a restaurant critic’s wife. Her husband writes for the Philadelphia Inquirer—which means that the wonderful details in the book both ring true and occasionally are.”
—New York Times, Motherlode
“Author LaBan (The Tragedy Paper), who is married to a restaurant critic, excellently makes the joys and difficulties of young motherhood feel real on the page. Readers who are in the thick of raising a young family will enjoy, as will foodies looking for insight into the restaurant world.�
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—Library Journal
“The narrative flows effortlessly, and the dialogue is engaging and evocative. Lila and Sam’s love and devotion, despite expected bumps along the way, provides a sensitive look at rediscovering yourself and your marriage.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Thoroughly entertaining.”
—People
“LaBan’s writing . . . is like a dish of smooth custard—straightforward and a treat to take in. The detailed meal descriptions are likely to spark some hunger pangs, and the spicy and sympathetic Lila makes a perfect meal companion.”
—Washington Independent Review of Books
ALSO BY ELIZABETH LABAN
The Restaurant Critic’s Wife
Pretty Little World
Not Perfect
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2019 by Elizabeth LaBan
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Lake Union Publishing, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Lake Union Publishing are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781542093729
ISBN-10: 1542093724
Cover design by Caroline Teagle Johnson
For my longtime agent, Uwe Stender, who has seen me beside myself more times than I can count and always manages to pull me back together
CONTENTS
PART ONE—SURPRISE!
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
PART TWO—BOOM!
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
PART THREE—I’LL SEE YOU TOMORROW
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PART ONE—SURPRISE!
CHAPTER ONE
“He would have loved that,” Joel whispered, leaning back against the seat as the train moved slowly away from Penn Station and New York City. Hannah scowled and shook her head. How could he possibly think that? But she couldn’t talk now. They had picked the quiet car on the Amtrak train back to Philadelphia on purpose, so they could read and maybe even sleep a little. She fidgeted in her seat and looked around. There was nobody behind them or in front of them.
“What do you mean, he would have loved it?” she said so quietly Joel didn’t even react to her. She nudged him, and he jumped. “What do you mean, he would have loved it?” she said again, a little louder. “He would have hated it.”
Joel considered what she’d said and nodded; his face said, You’re right. He was ridiculously optimistic but also quite reasonable, two of Hannah’s favorite characteristics of his. She was satisfied for a minute but then wanted to talk more. They should never have picked the quiet car. It was something they often joked about, fantasized about, really, something they could never do when the kids were with them. When they were all together, everything was always so noisy, constant talking, whining, laughing, crying. Right—that was why they’d picked it. Because they could. Their two kids were at home with their babysitter, Monica, waiting for them. They had only a few precious hours of peace left. But now she wanted to keep talking, mostly about the event they had just been to at NBC to honor Joel’s father, Richard T. Bent, who had anchored the NBC Nightly News for twenty-four years. Richard wasn’t well enough to make the trip, so they’d gone in his place, and it was a good thing they had. He truly would have hated it. He never wanted any of it to be about him. It was always supposed to be solely about the news. In fact, she could imagine him actually rejecting the beautiful wooden plaque they now carried back so carefully. She knew he wouldn’t want to put it up on his bedroom wall at Saint Martha’s Manor in South Philadelphia. He’d gone there for rehab after a small stroke and never left. That was over a year ago.
Hannah peered behind her to get a better look. It was, as far as she could tell, an empty quiet car. Did the rules apply if there was nobody there to hear you?
“He would have absolutely despised that video they played. Honestly, I liked it. I mean, you forget how much he covered. And of course ending with ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Just the other day he said again that he wished he had never started it, that it was presumptuous on so many levels. His words, obviously, not mine.”
She waited again for Joel to chime in. This was a conversation they had had many times before, since it was something they never said to each other in earnest and especially never to Richard—I’ll see you tomorrow. She turned to him now, thinking he might shush her since he probably hadn’t yet noticed that they were basically alone. But he was asleep. It drove her crazy. He could fall asleep so quickly it was often a shock—one minute they were in a deep conversation, and the next he was completely checked out. For a brief second she thought about nudging him again, but the truth was this was what she had been hoping for. This was why she had suggested the quiet car in the first place.
She looked around for his phone but didn’t see it. If he had it in his back pocket, that would make this impossible. She should have asked him to look up something that would have required his taking it out. She leaned over him now, not wanting to wake him, and peered in all the cracks and crannies of the seat. There it was, just slipped down on his right side. She would wait five minutes and then continue with her plan. She would let him get into a deeper sleep.
Hannah was pretty sure Joel was planning a surprise birthday party for her. All signs pointed in that direction, including a few unexplained calls and a lot of time on his computer, during which she imagined he was googling venues and contacts. About a week ago she’d caught him going through their old photo albums and her even older yearbooks, which she was fairly certain he hadn’t done in years, maybe ever. She’d imagined he was looking for pictures to put on a poster board displaying her life or maybe ideas for a heartfelt, emotional speech—or, it had even occurred to her, he might have been searching for long-lost childhood friends to invite to the celebration. She would turn forty-six in four months. It might be a little soon to begin the official planning, but Hannah also guessed he would do it early, maybe even weeks or months early, to throw her off.
Last year she’d thought there might be a party, and she’d been slightly disappointed when they had gotten to their planned dinner at her favorite Greek restaurant and nobody had jumped out. There’d been no balloons or special guests. There’d been no posters and no speeches. Slightly disappointed? Make that a lot disappointed. But about halfway through that meal, she’d thought, of course, Joel would never surprise her on an obvious birthday. He was much too clever for that. He would do it on an off year, an unexpected year. In her mind, at that dinner, she’d had the very clear thought: He will do it next year.
A few weeks ago she’d told him that if he did intend to plan anything that involved anyone beyond their immediate four, five if Richard was up to it, she would really appreciate a little warning so she could make sure her hair was okay—fighting that gray was becoming harder and a much more frequent task—and so she could wear something nice and put on makeup. When she’d
told her best friend, Kim, that she thought this was in the works, Kim hadn’t let on at all that she knew anything but had suggested that Hannah be constantly ready—with colored hair and plenty of makeup—every time they went out from two months before her birthday on. It wasn’t bad advice, but it also wasn’t something Hannah felt up to doing. It would require way too much work. No, this was a better plan.
She glanced over at Joel and decided he was sleeping deeply enough. In fact, he was snoring. How did that factor into the rules of the quiet car? She was tempted to lift his arm the way they used to with the kids when they were tiny to see if it would drop like lead, indicating heavy sleep. But that was more likely to wake him. If he woke up and caught her, she could easily say she’d thought his phone was ringing. She reached down, trying her best to not touch his thigh—he was very ticklish—and eased his iPhone out from its hiding spot. She turned it over and placed it on the armrest, then thought better of it since that would require her to twist his arm in a funny way. Instead she held it above his knee and reached for his hand. He showed no signs of waking up. She moved the phone under his hand and pressed his thumb into the home button. She used to have his code, but he’d gotten a new phone a few months ago, and she kept forgetting to ask what the new one was, or he kept forgetting to tell her. So this was her only way in. The phone came to life, and she lifted it away from him and started looking. She wasn’t sure where exactly to hunt for evidence, and there was that chance she was wrong and he hadn’t actually gotten around to it yet, but if Joel was anything, he was a planner. First she went to his email and searched Evite and Paperless Post, but nothing came up. Then she searched for Kim—if Joel was planning something, he would likely consult with Kim. Nothing came up. She went to his texts. Tons from the kids via Monica’s number, from her, from his dad—mostly about Palmolive soap, which his dad had become obsessed with lately. She kept scrolling down, looking for Kim’s name or the names of any of her friends.
About twenty down she noticed a contact that just said HOTEL. The picture that went along with it was a red rose. That could be so many things, most likely work, but for a brief second she wondered if he was planning a getaway instead. She clicked on it.