Beside Herself

by Elizabeth Laban

  What she thought to herself was that it would still be hard, that last minute, whether it was between nine and ten or eight and nine. But what she said was, “I don’t plan to go out tonight, Linc. I haven’t done that in a while, didn’t you notice? I am so sorry I went out so many nights without you and Daddy and Rid. I don’t really want to do that anymore.”

  “You don’t?” he asked. “That is great news.”

  “Yes, it is,” she said, grabbing his hand and navigating their way over to the others. “Yes, it is.”

  They’d been home for just a few minutes when her phone rang. When she saw Reuben’s name on the display, she froze and answered quickly.

  “Everything’s okay,” Reuben said right away. “Richard is asking for you. Any chance you can stop over quickly?”

  “All of us?” she asked, relieved that Richard wasn’t being rushed to the hospital again. It would take a long time to get over that.

  “No, actually, just you—specifically you.”

  Hannah looked around. Joel and Ridley were settled on the couch, watching coverage of the parade and footage from the Eagles’ winning season. Lincoln, on the other hand, was watching her closely.

  “I might bring Linc,” she said quietly into the phone. “But please tell Richard I’ll be there soon.”

  Joel looked up when she ended the call. “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, apparently your father is asking for me,” she said. “Do you mind if I run over quickly?”

  “Should we all go?”

  “No, Reuben said he just wanted me,” she said, turning toward Lincoln. “But Linc, do you want to come along?”

  “Sure, Mommy,” he said.

  Inside Saint Martha’s, Eagles signs adorned the walls, and green confetti still dotted the floor. The woman behind the main desk had a GO BIRDS! shirt on.

  “So exciting,” Hannah said as she signed them in.

  “One of the best days ever,” the woman said.

  Hannah steered Lincoln toward Richard’s hall. She heard his booming voice as they got closer.

  “As I just mentioned, for some it’s their silver; for others it might be their china. But really, it doesn’t always have to be something formal, and it doesn’t have to be in good condition,” he said as they came around the corner. He saw them, and he cleared his throat. “Take the ancient Japanese art known as kintsugi, for example, through which a broken bowl is mended. The cracks are filled in with a gold-infused lacquer, allowing the places that needed to be fixed to be visible and even appreciated.”

  There was a light gasp in the crowd from a woman sitting fairly close to Richard, and someone a row behind clapped excitedly. Hannah gave Richard a look that said, Really? And he looked right back and smiled, a fully present and knowing smile.

  “I’ll leave you with that for tonight,” he said, waving to the small crowd. “But as always, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Hannah looked to make sure she had heard him correctly, but she had. He waved them over.

  “Hi, Grandpa!” Lincoln said, trying to crawl up on his lap. Hannah loved how he had a physical pull toward him. Richard grabbed on to him like the pull from his end was just as strong and helped him get settled in his lap in the wheelchair.

  “Should I wheel you back to your room?” Hannah asked.

  “No, it’s okay,” Richard said. “I like it out here. Let’s just go over to the window.”

  She pushed the wheelchair over to a quiet corner and took a seat opposite Richard and Lincoln.

  “I’m glad you didn’t miss my little speech,” Richard said like it was a big coincidence that they’d happened to catch it. She shook her head and smiled.

  “I especially liked the part about appreciating the broken places,” she said with a tone that might or might not be interpreted as sarcastic. “But for the record, Richard, I was there already.”

  He looked at her closely now. Then he turned to Lincoln.

  “Any chance you can give your mom and me a minute alone?” he asked. “I know Rita at the front desk always has lollipops. And today I think they’re green.”

  “Sure, Grandpa,” he said, scooting down.

  “Don’t go too far,” Richard called after him. Then to Hannah he said, “So you were already there. To be perfectly honest, I have been very worried.”

  “So have I,” Hannah said, feeling the burn of tears behind her eyes. “I’m telling you this first, which is a little strange but also seems fitting somehow. I’ve decided I want to make it work with Joel. I want to keep our family together, but it’s more than that; I want Joel to be my husband. I want him to be my—this sounds like such a cliché, but I want him to be my life partner, even though there has been some bad . . .” She trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence.

  Richard nodded, telling her to go on.

  “I mean, this has been awful, and a shock, and I’ve been so mad, but I kept waiting to stop loving him, I thought that was inevitable, but it didn’t happen. That was what I was really waiting for—I realize that now—to see if that would happen. I expected it to, but it never did.”

  Again, Richard nodded.

  “The therapist we saw had this idea that our first marriage as we know it is over, but if we want to, we could start a second marriage together. I am finally ready to do that. And I want to say it isn’t because I’m scared of the alternative, of being alone or starting over. Don’t get me wrong—at first I was terrified of that. I have made this decision with my eyes wide open, no longer thinking bad things can’t happen but believing this bad thing won’t happen again. I am choosing Joel because he is the man I want to be with, for better or worse. And so I’m going to ask Joel to marry me again. Which, for the record, I had already planned to do before I heard your speech about the ancient Japanese art of . . . what was it?”

  “Kintsugi,” Richard said, smiling. “And Hannah, this makes me very happy. But I’m much less concerned with my own happiness than I am with yours and Joel’s and those two amazing grandchildren of mine. I’m sorry you had to go through what you went through; I’m sorry Joel let you down. I don’t think he will again. Earlier today when I was talking about the history of the Eagles and sports in general, and the importance of what that can bring to a city and a community and a family, I looked around. The room was packed; the group was much larger than it was just now. I know how ridiculous it is that I am regularly speaking to a crowd of old people; most of them might not even remember it the next day, but their eyes were bright, and they were listening. What struck me the most, though, was that two people, one man and one woman, were holding urns. I asked Reuben about that, even though I was pretty sure I knew, and they were the ashes of their spouses. They didn’t live to see the Eagles win a Super Bowl, but their wife and husband got to take them to the parade or at least to the lounge of the nursing home to watch it on television. I wish you and Joel a long life together, but that is what I wish for you, too, a connection beyond connections, a love that never dies.”

  Hannah found Lincoln sitting in a chair just around the corner happily eating a green lollipop. Reuben was sitting next to him.

  “Hey,” he said warmly as she approached them, like there had been nothing more between them than work stuff and a few funny mugs of coffee.

  “Hey,” she said back, thinking once again he had stepped in to help. Once again he was in the place where they most needed him at the moment.

  “It was a great day, wasn’t it?” he said.

  “It was the best day,” Lincoln said before she had a chance to answer. “I worry there won’t be another day this good again. I told my mother that.”

  Reuben held up his finger, telling them to wait. He disappeared into the conference room, and when he came out, he handed a mug to Lincoln.

  “Here, keep this,” he said. “You’re probably old enough now to start drinking coffee, but if not, it’s good for hot chocolate too.”

  Hannah laughed. The mug was white with navy-
blue words scrawled across it. Lincoln tried his best to decipher it. He sighed.

  “I don’t read cursive,” he said finally.

  “Yeah, they don’t really teach that in school anymore,” Hannah said to back him up.

  “Oh, no problem,” Reuben said, taking the mug and holding it up. “It says, Every Day Is the Best Day, so basically it means all the days will be great. Also, I recommend learning a little cursive so you can read menus at fancy restaurants.”

  Lincoln reached for the mug and looked at it carefully. “There’s a mug that says that?”

  “Right here,” Reuben said, pointing.

  “I don’t know if a mug has that much power,” Lincoln said in his old-man way. “But thank you.”

  “It is my pleasure.”

  “Hey, Lincoln, can you give us just a minute? Maybe go wait in the lobby?”

  “Again?” Lincoln said.

  “Just one more time,” she said.

  “Fine!” he said, skulking off.

  “What’s that all about?” Reuben asked. “I assume you don’t have time for a quick cup of coffee? I have an array of mugs, as you know, depending on your mood. And I have about thirty that say The Philly Special. That’s a hard one to resist!”

  Hannah smiled. “Well, you’re right about that, but I’m going to pass,” she said gently. “I wanted to tell you I’ve decided to make it work with Joel. I know you don’t think I owe you an explanation, but I want you to know. You helped me get through this really hard time. Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

  “You helped me too,” he said, smiling. “Things are going really well with Lucy. The worst part is that I’m back to drinking single-origin coffee at home, mostly from Nicaragua, that is severely underroasted. She keeps calling it lightly roasted, but well, you know, we can’t agree on everything. Still, it’s a small price to pay. And don’t tell her if you see her, but I’m still drinking my Disney coffee here. There is only so much compromise a person can participate in.”

  Hannah leaned in and hugged Reuben, tentatively at first and then with more confidence.

  “I’m really happy for you,” they both said into each other’s ears at the same time. She rested her head on his shoulder for one beat, maybe two, before she pulled away.

  “I’ll still be by for coffee,” she said. “Save the Crappity Crap Crap mug for me, but I’ll also accept that Love Is Love one if it’s available when I’m here. Or, of course, I’ll take The Philly Special any day. And just a crazy, unsolicited suggestion here, but I think you should take the Hello Beautiful mug home to Lucy. I think it would be perfect for her single-origin coffee.”

  “Great idea,” Reuben said, smiling. “And much appreciated.”

  She waved as she walked away. She didn’t see Lincoln in the lobby, but she caught sight of him out on the porch, sitting in a rocker surrounded by four older people, three ladies and a gentleman, who were completely focused on him as he rocked and talked.

  “Very important,” she heard him say as the door swooshed open in front of her, letting in the February chill. “Possibly one of the most important events to bring a city together and make a day great. But there will be other great days.”

  Like grandfather, like grandson, Hannah thought. She waited a few minutes, knowing the residents would be sad to see him go, and when there was a clear lull in his monologue, she gathered him up and took him home.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  That night, after a dinner of penne pasta with pesto (to go along with the Eagles-green theme of the day) and a long, drawn-out bedtime routine, Hannah found the now-chipped blue gingham ceramic bowl in the cabinet. She had thought about getting a new bowl or choosing a different one from their eclectic collection, but this was the bowl. It just held even more history and possibility than it had when it had first been presented to her. Joel was sitting on the orange couch, reading. Even though she was around more at night these days, and even though she knew where she was heading lately, they hadn’t really discussed it. He was still in the newer habit of entertaining himself at night.

  “Do you want to watch a Sopranos?” she asked.

  He looked at her with so much excitement she almost felt bad. It’s just a show, she wanted to say. You could have watched it anytime without me. But she knew that wasn’t the point. And then, to make things even more exciting, to raise the emotional bar even higher—she took the bowl from behind her back and placed it on the table in front of him. His eyes went so wide, tears coming to the surface, that once again she felt bad. He was so easy. And she loved him for it.

  “Is that . . . ?” he asked, but his voice cracked.

  She took a deep breath.

  “Yes. Step number one—the bowl step,” she said, sitting down next to him. “Which is now chipped from the years of our using it. That big chip was when it rolled off the counter when Ridley’s hands were so slippery from the melted ice cream and she couldn’t grasp it. Remember? We thought it was a goner then, but it wasn’t. And that one? That chip is from when the matzo ball soup was too hot after I filled it and it crashed to the table in front of Richard. Thankfully it didn’t splatter all over him.”

  “I remember every single chip,” he said.

  “So you know how this goes: the good and the bad, ice cream and soup, celebrations and sickness. What I want to say is what you did to me was bad—I know you know that—and now it will always be a part of our history. It will always be in the mix of our bowl, but there is so much more good than bad, and here’s the thing: I never stopped loving you. I waited to stop loving you, but I didn’t, which makes me think I never will. If you ever do that to me again, I will leave. There will be no waiting period, no Maybe I should have my own affair, no anything. It will be over. But I believe you won’t do that.” She paused.

  “I won’t do that,” he said. “I will never, ever do that.”

  “So the other thing I was thinking is that making this work isn’t about removing the temptation. I mean, I know you aren’t traveling so much anymore, and that’s okay, but you are going to have to sometimes, and eventually the sharpness of all this is going to fade. I can’t keep you here, and you can’t keep me here to make sure; we have to trust. It has to be about resisting the temptation or maybe, hopefully, about not feeling tempted at all, not about avoiding it.”

  She paused again.

  “Yes, yes, I agree,” he said when it became clear she was waiting for a response. “I could not agree more.”

  “Okay,” she said. As she rose from the couch, he touched her knee gently.

  “Is your . . . are you . . . is it over?” Joel asked quietly. “Can we talk about it?”

  She knew she was going to have to face this at some point, even though it had been over, and she clearly hadn’t gone out at night in a while.

  “Yes, it’s over. It’s been over,” she said simply. “And the truth is it never really got started. Almost but not really. I tried for so long, using a dating app, going out on these terrible dates. There was an almost moment with Lance, the lifeguard from the Y. He was nicer than the others, by far, but that was not meant to be. And then there was—”

  “Reuben?”

  “Yes, there was Reuben,” she said.

  “I was so confused at first and then fairly sure I was right,” he said. “It’s such a relief to know. How long did you . . . ? Did you sleep together for long?”

  She thought about not answering, just letting him wonder, but that didn’t seem right. They needed complete honesty moving forward—she knew that.

  “We didn’t sleep together,” she said. “We had one very passionate kiss, and that was all. I would be lying if I didn’t say there were definitely elements of an emotional affair, but it’s all over now. He is happily with his girlfriend. And I am just where I want to be.”

  He nodded, a satisfied look on his face. She had said everything she could think of, but she waited to make sure he didn’t have any more questions. When he
didn’t, she got up and put the bowl back in its place. She returned to the couch and lifted the remote, finding her way to The Sopranos on demand, which they hadn’t done since the night before the train ride, the night before she’d found out.

  “What episode were we on?” she asked.

  He took her hand and squeezed, and the word pure ran through her mind. Pure and also just right.

  “We were on season six,” he finally said, moving as close to her as he could. She closed her eyes for a second, feeling all of it, the comfort, the familiarity, all the things she had missed. They watched four episodes, right in a row, and that’s where Ridley found them a little after two a.m.

  And so the next morning over Honey Nut Cheerios and Raisin Bran, Hannah said she had an important question to ask. Lincoln was eating his cereal out of his Every Day Is the Best Day mug; he had insisted on it, and considering what she was about to do, it seemed like a fortuitous choice. Even though she said it twice, that she had an important question to ask, the kids barely looked up. They were running late, and though she couldn’t believe it, she had already gotten a call from Saint Martha’s that morning saying they had just opened the last bar of Palmolive. She would swing by the dollar store on her way to her meeting once everyone was settled, even though she had a definite feeling that Richard wasn’t going to care as much about the soap anymore.

  She had debated doing this when the kids weren’t around but in the end decided they should be there. Even though she and Joel had been so careful to protect them, there was no question that they knew things hadn’t been right, and she wanted them to know what was going on now, what she had decided. If they had questions, she would do her best to answer them, leaving out some of the details, of course.

  “Step number two,” she said to Joel. He put down his spoon and stood up, looking like he was standing at attention. She almost laughed.

  “Will you marry me?” she asked. She stood facing him. She didn’t want to get down on one knee; that didn’t seem to be the way to do this.