Beside Herself

by Elizabeth Laban

  “Richard, I’m so sorry—I have to tell you I knew about this,” Hannah said. “Joel told me.”

  “He did?” he said. His speech was getting slower and slower; he was clearly getting tired. At times, a few of his words sounded slightly slurred. “I’m surprised. He never talked about it, I thought. Well, I’ll spare you some of the details, then. And let me say that while I was always faithful to Celine in the traditional sense, I was not easy. If I was forced to put a label on it—and please bear with me, because I know this is a cliché—I would have to admit that my career was my mistress. You don’t get to be the anchor of a national news outlet for twenty-four years without paying some sort of price. It wasn’t that I wasn’t loving, but when I look back, I remember how many times we were settling in for a quiet moment at home and something broke in the world—the Berlin Wall, the Challenger disaster, you name it—and I would have to run, just run, leaving Celine alone with Joel time after time.”

  “Richard,” Hannah said, but he put up his hand to indicate that he was still talking. She noticed the skin on his arm was speckled with dark spots and looked so thin and shimmery, so well worn.

  “What I am getting to is this—despite everything, despite it all, we never wanted to dismantle our family, and she never truly loved the other guy, the one she saw on and off from time to time—well, either of them—more than she loved me. She never wanted to be with him instead of being with me. That was the key. Things would have of course been different if she had. She liked his attention, I assume she liked his body, but she did not want to build a life with him. We had a wonderful, well-crafted life—a wonderful son, a warm home, a daily routine that we could not have managed without each other. Plus, as much as my work took away from our life together, it also added a certain cachet that would have been hard for her to give up. But Joel found out—it was inevitable—and it became part of our family discussion. At the time, I thought it proved that we are strong, but now, or as soon as Joel told me about what he did to you, I knew it had the opposite effect. I was all wrong. Instead of teaching Joel that marriage is something to be cherished, that it is sacred and not to be played with, the message I left him with was that a marriage can survive an affair. And while I do think that is so, if all the circumstances are right, if both people are fully committed to recovering and making it work, I will never forgive myself for that or for the fallout, which hurt you.”

  “Richard,” Hannah said. “This has nothing to do with you. This is not your responsibility or your fault.”

  He had closed his eyes, and now he kept them closed.

  “Richard?” she said, shaking him slightly. He stirred but still didn’t open his eyes. “Richard!”

  “I’m not dead yet,” he said belligerently. “That is decidedly not how my deathbed confession will work, unfortunately.” He opened his eyes and looked right at her.

  “I want to make it very clear that we don’t need you to die so we can focus on our marriage,” Hannah said. “That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard, and now I’m afraid you’re going to die soon and I will always feel I didn’t do enough to stop you. What can I do to stop you?”

  “I promise I’m not going to die right now,” he said. “It takes a little time. I have to starve myself first.”

  She couldn’t stand it. She was crying hard now, still trying to keep the noise down but succeeding less with each passing second. Reuben pushed through the curtain and seemed relieved to find them both there, conscious and alive. He touched her forearm gently and quickly moved his hand away. She could hear quiet cheering coming from a cubicle nearby. The Eagles must have scored a touchdown.

  “What’s going on?” Reuben asked.

  “So many things I can’t even say,” she said, sniffling and wiping her nose. “I need to find Joel. I have to keep Richard from giving up.”

  Reuben nodded in his comforting way, like that all made perfect sense. They both turned to look at Richard, who was sitting regally in bed. He had pushed himself back up, his lips pursed and his eyes just off to the side, like he was intentionally trying not to meet their eyes. Since Richard had witnessed her hugging Reuben, they had been careful not to be with him at the same time, though now it was impossible. Her affair with Reuben, fake or not, had ended when they’d returned to Philadelphia from Delaware. Hannah had moments of regret for being so in control when they were in Delaware. Sometimes she found herself fantasizing about him, and she decided, in the end, that was okay. She didn’t have to feel guilty about that.

  Lucy had finally come back from her African adventure, and she was ready to move to the next phase—the phase of deciding. So was Reuben, it seemed. Hannah looked at him now and thought about all the things he had done and all the things he was still doing for them—for all of them—the many roles he had played. He was like some sort of shepherd sent to them from . . . she didn’t know where.

  “Thank you,” she said, turning to look at him now, placing her hand on his arm the way he had just done to her a few minutes before. “For everything.”

  Reuben didn’t say anything. He was wiping tears away from his eyes. She wasn’t sure which of the recent events was triggering them, and honestly, it was just too much to ask about now, especially in front of Richard.

  “Listen, let’s go do the paperwork quickly,” he said, and once again she was grateful to him for knowing what to do next and for giving her an excuse to leave Richard for a few minutes and pull herself together. “After that we can think about everything else.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The Eagles won. They were going to the Super Bowl. It was fifteen minutes after the game when she finally reached Joel.

  “Sorry, sorry,” he said as he answered. “I can see you called four times. Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, for the moment, but your dad was taken to the hospital. Reuben went in to check on him before leaving and said he didn’t look well and was disoriented. They think he was having trouble maintaining his oxygen level. They’re still trying to figure it all out. I’m here with him; Ridley is home with Kim,” she said. “Do you want me to meet you at home, and then you can come?”

  “No, we’ll come right there,” he said.

  “But it’s so late,” she said. “And I don’t know how Lincoln will handle this. It’s an emergency room—with, you know, lots of emergencies. Plus, he has to be exhausted. He barely slept last night, and after the game and everything.”

  “We’re coming,” he said, interrupting her gently. “We’ll be there soon.”

  Hannah wandered back into Richard’s area. They were getting him ready to be moved to a room for the night. There was talk about him being given the last private room. She was just letting it all happen instead of fighting to get him transferred. He didn’t seem to mind. They were being very nice to him here; he had so many fans and was clearly being treated as a VIP. His eyes were open, and his color was much better. He cleared his throat when he saw her.

  “I’ve changed my mind,” he said, his voice a little stronger again. “I am not going to die right now.”

  “Thank goodness, Richard,” she said. “That was such a crazy thing you said.”

  “Well, you have the Eagles to thank for it,” he said. “I’m not going to miss this Super Bowl, not after waiting all these years to see this—it is amazing. After that who knows? We’ll just have to see.”

  “No, after that we won’t see,” she said. “We need you here as long as it is humanly and medically possible. I refuse to let you take yourself out.”

  Reuben came to the curtain. “I’m going to get going,” he said to both of them.

  “Thank you for everything,” Richard said, extending his hand, which Reuben rushed to grab. “Hopefully I’ll be back at Saint Martha’s tomorrow or the next day.”

  “We will be so happy to have you back,” Reuben said warmly. “Bye, Hannah.”

  “Bye, Reuben,” she said. “Thank you.”

  As soon as he was gon
e, Richard turned to her and raised his eyebrows. Oh no, Hannah thought.

  “Reuben? Really?”

  “Richard, I know what you’re thinking . . . or I have no idea what you’re thinking. It was, I don’t know, it was something I had to do, I guess.”

  “Whatever you have to do. Who am I to judge?” Richard said.

  “I was just so mad, so incredibly angry that Joel would ruin everything we shared, everything we had built,” she said honestly, and it felt good.

  “I understand that anger,” Richard said.

  “And I can see now it gave me a chance to see if I wanted to stay or go.”

  “Time in the pocket,” Richard said regally.

  “What?” Hannah asked.

  “It’s a football metaphor, when the quarterback needs to be protected while he figures out what to do with the ball. You needed time to figure it out. Time in the pocket.”

  “Exactly,” Hannah said, relieved that he understood. That was exactly what she had needed.

  “It isn’t a secret that I hope you and Joel can find your way back to each other so that this is not always a barrier separating you. As long as you can do that, I will be happy. And don’t let it linger the way I did, the way Celine did. We managed, but I should have put my foot down. People can make one mistake; most people do in one way or another, but more, well, that can be too many.”

  They both heard Lincoln’s voice at the same time. “Grandpa?” he was calling loudly. “Grandpa?”

  “In here,” Richard called with a forcefulness Hannah hadn’t heard from him all night.

  Lincoln appeared, looking tiny. As soon as he saw them, he scrambled up onto Richard’s bed.

  “Take it easy,” Hannah said. “I don’t want you to hurt him.”

  “He couldn’t possibly hurt me,” Richard said, helping him settle in next to him and rearranging his tubes. Lincoln grabbed on so tight Hannah wondered if he’d thought Richard might be dead when he got here.

  “Actually,” Richard said, looking at Hannah, “this is even better than the Eagles’ win.”

  She made a mental note to make sure to bring the kids to visit him at least once a week, maybe more.

  “Lincoln?” Joel called, sounding panicked.

  “In here,” they all shouted at the same time.

  Joel came around the corner, looking rumpled in his Eagles jersey and carrying two green rally towels, one in each hand. He looked sweaty and smelled vaguely of beer.

  “He got away from me,” Joel said. Then to Hannah, “I’m so sorry.”

  In that moment it felt like he was saying he was so sorry for everything, which he had done so many times before, but it felt so real, so heartfelt, that she simply said, “It’s okay.”

  “How are you?” he asked Richard. “How is he?”

  “Better,” Hannah said. “They’re still trying to figure it all out, and I think they’re waiting for another test result or two. He’ll at least stay overnight.”

  Hannah and Joel watched as Lincoln told Richard about the highlights of the game.

  “And then Nick Foles had the ball and he threw it to Corey Clement and then he threw it back to Nick Foles and then Nick Foles threw it to Torrey Smith and he caught it and made a touchdown! It’s called a flea-flicker, Grandpa!”

  “Flea-flickers are my favorite,” Richard said, smiling in a way Hannah hadn’t seen in what, weeks? Months?

  “Can we talk out there?” Joel asked quietly, pointing over his shoulder.

  “Sure,” she said, following him through the curtain.

  “What a night,” Joel said, running his hands through his messy, thick hair. “It was emotional enough, just with the game. I didn’t expect this.”

  “How could you?”

  “Thanks for coming,” he said. “For being here when I couldn’t.”

  Hannah just nodded.

  “I’ll stay with him tonight,” Joel said. “At least until he gets settled. Maybe longer if he wants me to. When they’re finished talking, you can take Linc home.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “It was a great game,” Joel said. “The game of a lifetime. The stadium was shaking with all the energy and excitement. I have a few videos. I’ll show you later.”

  “Did Linc tell anyone about his name?”

  Joel’s eyes lit up. “We went to the customer-service desk as soon as we walked in, and we waited in line. It was a crazy long line, but he didn’t care. When it was his turn, he pulled himself up so he could talk to the woman behind the counter, and he told her, in his serious little man-slash-little-boy voice, and guess what?”

  “What?”

  “They gave us VIP seats,” Joel said. “It was awesome. I mean, everyone was so happy, so excited, I think they were being way nicer than they might usually be. He kept wanting to call you—well, he really wanted to call Ridley, I think they had some sort of bet going—but you know, there was no service, so he still hasn’t told her. We were just going to call when you called me. To leave there flying so high and then get the call about my dad. I’m on an emotional roller coaster.”

  “Shoot, I never called Kim,” Hannah said, rubbing her forehead. “And now it’s too late.”

  “It’s okay,” Joel said soothingly. “She’ll understand. Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask you something again, but I don’t want to push you, I don’t want to put pressure on you, and most of all, I’m afraid that I’m going to scare you away.”

  Hannah nodded. She got that.

  “But can I ask you one thing? The thing that I’ve asked before and I keep wanting to ask until you say yes?”

  She was honestly a little scared. She knew what was coming. What if she wasn’t ready? But she looked at him, all rumpled and vulnerable, having just taken their son to the game of a lifetime. She thought of how he’d indulged Lincoln, waiting in line so he could tell someone official that he’d been named after Lincoln Financial Field. Lincoln had always wanted to do that. She knew she wouldn’t have had the patience for it all. She would have talked a big game and ultimately suggested they not wait in line because it was so unlikely that the staff would do anything for them. But Joel hadn’t done that; he’d let Lincoln play it out. And now Lincoln was going to remember this night forever—everyone in the entire city would but especially Lincoln. She closed her eyes and kept them closed.

  “Sure,” she said, holding her breath.

  “Will you go back to Dr. Snow with me now?” he asked. “So we can talk again, about all of this. Please?”

  She opened her eyes and exhaled.

  “Okay,” she said. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  Three nights later they were on their way to the Northeast to see Dr. Snow. Hannah thought about the last time they’d come, how they’d sat outside and she hadn’t been able to go in. How far apart they’d been from each other, how that moving away had seemed like the only real choice at the moment.

  She wasn’t sure what she was going to say once they went in to see her. The last few days had been filled with taking care of Richard, getting him back to Saint Martha’s, where he hadn’t even gone to his room right away but had sat in his wheelchair in the main room and talked about the pride a winning sports team could bring to a city, to a place in general. She and Joel had sat and listened as he’d talked about the history of the Eagles and the long-standing drought of Super Bowl wins. He’d referred to the infamous Curse of Billy Penn, and he’d taken on the voices of Rocky and Adrian in the clip from the Rocky movie that was played at the beginning of most Philly sports events, which never, ever failed to hype everyone up. By the time he had been talking for about fifteen minutes, Hannah guessed the entire nursing home had gathered in the room. When he’d suggested they sing “Fly, Eagles, Fly,” she could almost feel the building shake, even though many of the voices were weakened by old age and illness. It was amazing. Reuben and Joel had had to take over the E-A-G-L-E-S chant at the end, as Richard was just too tired, and Hannah had watched as they’d
stood side by side. Then she’d had to look away.

  “So here’s the thing,” Hannah said as they took their seats in Dr. Snow’s office. She looked less like Dr. Melfi from The Sopranos these days—her hair was longer, and her glasses were different—and it made Hannah realize that she’d been in some sort of trance in those early days after finding out about Joel’s affair. Or maybe it was less that and more that she’d wanted the discovery of the affair to be a television show she could turn off, as opposed to her new reality. “Even this last week, we’re so busy. I mean, there’s Richard, you know, Joel’s dad, who was just in the hospital and needed extra care but always needs attention—and believe me, I wouldn’t have it any other way. And then our kids, who are amazing but at these crazy ages, and—I say this proudly—they are so smart and creative that they keep us on our toes, all the time. So even though I couldn’t really see it before, or I didn’t want to admit it, it is hard to focus on each other, and it has been for a long time. I still don’t accept that as an excuse for what happened. Even with all of that chaos, there was never a time when I wasn’t happy to see Joel walk through our front door—or any door, for that matter—when I wasn’t happy to have him in the house or at the dinner table or in our bed, with kids between us or not. But to really stop and focus, to look each other in the eyes or, well, more . . . how do we do that on a regular basis? How can we manage to focus on each other and keep up everything else we have to do? Because I don’t want to be constantly wondering if I should be paying more attention or if my focus is in the wrong place. I just want to live.”

  “Well,” Dr. Snow began.

  “Wait!” Joel said urgently. She was ready for Joel to bring up her affair; she knew it was a good possibility. “I feel I have to make this very clear: This did not happen because of anything you did or did not do. You have always been exactly what I wanted you to be, exactly who I thought you would be when I asked you to marry me, when I saw you at the diner that very first time or selling the honey. You have always been—you. And you are the person I want to spend my life with. What happened, what I did, was stupid beyond words. It was like I convinced myself that what took place there had nothing to do with us, with our family, but that was as untrue as anything could be. Right now, I can’t even conjure up that way of thinking, it’s so clearly false. But then it was like I was in a daze, in some sort of alternate universe. As soon as I realized it, once something clicked—and that was weeks before you discovered those texts—I ended it, not because I was afraid you were going to catch me but because it was not something I wanted to do, then or ever again.”