She Makes It Look Easy

by Marybeth Whalen

  “Instead you’re out here talking to me, a married woman.”

  He held up his hands. “You seemed safe. Safe is good for me right now.”

  I tried not to feel hurt. What did I care if this guy chose me to hide out with? I was married, and in reality, I had no business being there at all. I wished for the ability to teleport myself back home to my bed with David snoring softly beside me and my three boys tucked into their beds down the hall.

  “You just looked like a nice person,” he added, not making it any better.

  “The red dress didn’t throw you off?” I teased.

  “It was in your eyes,” he said. “You’re a nice person. You care about people. Sometimes too much?”

  I thought of Justine dancing inside with total strangers, drinking and behaving in a way I was having a hard time justifying. “Yes, sometimes too much. I guess I just want to believe the best about people.”

  “Trust me,” he said, “it can burn you sometimes.” He raised his glass, and I raised my own. “To seeing people for who they are and not who we wish they were.” As our glasses clinked, a cold shiver ran down my spine. Justine had emerged from the club, a fine coating of sweat making her skin glisten. She caught my eye and smiled, gave me an approving thumbs-up. I shook my head. She had it wrong.

  “Will you wait here?” I asked. “I need to speak to my friend,” I said, rising before he could answer. I walked quickly over to Justine, my bare feet on the warm patio bricks, the painful stilettos still under the table where I had kicked them off.

  She pointed at my feet. “Aren’t we cozy?”

  “No. Not cozy. In pain,” I said. “But definitely not cozy with that guy. He just broke up with his fiancée. Wanted to talk with someone ‘safe.’” I gave her a mock-pathetic smile, but secretly I was hoping she’d follow my lead and keep her interactions with these men nice and safe.

  But she just waved my explanation away. “I’m not here to judge,” she said. “Listen, I am going to go on to another club with some people I met. Can you just take a taxi back to the condo?” She dropped a key into my hand and smiled. “Don’t wait up,” she said and giggled like a college girl who club-hopped every weekend instead of a mom of two who presided over our neighborhood back home.

  Whoa. This was nowhere near safe. But before I could ask any questions, suggest coming along, or argue, she flitted back inside the club and was swallowed up by the crowd. Shocked and flustered, I couldn’t seem to hatch any plan except to do as Justine had suggested. I turned back to the table to collect my shoes, say good-bye to Brian, and go hail a cab. As I reached the table, I realized that I didn’t have enough cash to get home. I sat down and shook my head. So much for being Justine’s safety net.

  “What?” he asked, clearly sensing my anxiety.

  “My friend, she … just left me here,” I confessed. “And I’m not sure how I’m going to get back.” I lifted my hands, unable to stop the whine that escaped. “I don’t have enough cash to get a cab.” I put my forehead on the table as if he wasn’t there at all and wished again that I was home. What had possessed me to go on this stupid trip anyway?

  Brian reached in his wallet and pulled out money. “Here,” he said. “This should be enough.”

  I looked at him in shock. “No, no … I didn’t mean … I can’t—”

  “You were nice to me. You helped me pass a few minutes of this ridiculous outing. So keep it. As a thank-you.”

  I took the money. “If I wasn’t desperate at the moment I would argue with you.”

  “How many kids do you have?” he asked out of the blue.

  “Kids? Is it that obvious?” Was it my childbearing hips? The permanent worry lines between my brows? The outdated haircut? I knew it wasn’t the red dress or stiletto heels that gave me away.

  “Moms just have a certain look to them. You can just tell. Motherhood seems to … change a woman.”

  I smiled. He was right. “Fair enough. I have three boys.” I smiled, then rose from the table, bone tired. It was way past my bedtime.

  He stood with me. “I’ll walk with you.” He fell into step beside me as we made our way out to the curb, where an assortment of cabs idled, waiting for those who had imbibed too much to drive. I stuck my head in the window of one of them and gave the driver the address of the condo, then looked back at Brian.

  I extended my hand to him once more. “It was nice to meet you,” I said.

  He held my hand for a moment too long, and I knew that—if I wanted it—things could go a different direction. With one word he would be in the cab with me headed to the condo. With one word my entire life could change. Seeing the look on my face, he kissed my cheek, his lips as momentary as butterfly wings grazing my skin. “Go home,” he said. “You’re one of the good ones.” He laughed. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” I asked. He was the one paying for my cab fare.

  “For proving that good ones still exist.” He waited for me to get into the cab and shut the door behind me. I watched him through the window until he faded from sight, then leaned my head back and closed my eyes until the cab pulled up to the condo. I opened my hand and looked down at the folded bills Brian had put in it. He had tucked his business card in with the money. I squinted at it under the dome light and smiled. I paid the driver with Brian’s money and left his card on the seat of the taxi. When I got inside the house, I sat down and called Justine, wanting to tell her what had happened and find out when she’d be back. But she didn’t answer. Then or the other times I tried before I finally fell asleep, the phone in my hand.

  Chapter 27

  Justine

  It was dark when Tom and I headed to the beach. He held my hand, and I walked blindly toward the sound of the surf, my feet sinking in the powdery sand. The moon was hidden behind clouds, and the blackness was so complete I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. Slowly my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I could make out his form, like a ghost emerging from the shadows. He smiled over at me as he pulled me toward the edge of the surf. I slipped off my shoes and let the water cover my toes.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” he said. “I know it was a risk.”

  “For both of us,” I said. “You have as much to lose as I do.”

  “And yet, tonight, we have so much to gain.” He pulled me into an embrace, our bodies lining up as we stood there, shoulder touching shoulder, leg touching leg, stomach touching stomach. I could feel him breathe, smell the scent of his skin. I had never wanted anything more, not even when we were kids.

  “I’m just sorry I couldn’t get away sooner. I had to figure out a way to get away from Ariel. Luckily, she got distracted.” I smiled to myself, thinking of Ariel slipping away with that good-looking guy. It alleviated my guilt and gave me ammunition in case she started asking too many questions. I guess nobody was immune to the temptations of life outside the bounds of marriage. Even Ariel with her continual broodings about how much she loved David.

  “Where does she think you are?” he asked, pulling me onto a patch of dry sand so we could sit. I tried to sit down gracefully in my too-short dress but gave up and sort of fell onto the sand. I thought of what I was wearing underneath the dress and felt guilt surge, then die out. I could deal with guilt later. Tonight was for us.

  “She thinks I went out dancing with people I met at the club.”

  “You party animal,” he said, elbowing me in the side.

  “Yeah, that’s me. A party animal.”

  His voice changed, deepened with what I recognized as longing. “I’m glad you chose to come here with me.” He reached over and pulled me to him. Kissing him already felt as natural as breathing. As though I had never stopped.

  We kissed for a while, the heat between us deepening and intensifying. He broke away, and I felt my lips burn, my entire body crying out for … more. “
My hotel’s right there,” he said.

  He seemed hesitant, unsure, which I liked. I didn’t want to be a foregone conclusion. Every part of my body was saying yes, even as my head fired off reasons I should say no. I knew that standing up, taking his hand, and following him up to that hotel was against everything I had said I believed up to that point. I had stood in front of the mothers’ group and talked about honoring your husband, sang solos in church about allegiance. I knew that making this one choice would follow me for the rest of my life. I knew that the people who waited for me at home would be affected by me whispering the word yes.

  I thought of Mark and his kindness, the look on his face when he came home after he’d been fired. I thought of my little girls—how they loved their daddy, how they trusted me to take care of them. I thought about taking the only home they’d ever known—their security—from them. I thought about my mom and dad standing in the driveway as I drove away, unknowingly enabling me to get to this place, this moment, the trusting looks on their faces. Tom kissed me again, ran his hand through my hair and sent shivers up my spine.

  I pulled away.

  “What? What is it?” His hand traveled up my arm to my face and caressed my cheek. “Are you scared?”

  I nodded, swallowed, waited for my lips to stop tingling from his kiss. If I stopped now it would be hard, but I could still go forward. I could tell Mark. We could go to counseling. We could try to heal from the job loss and this … indiscretion of mine. We could sell the house, get away from Tom, and somehow make a new start. I could do the work it would take to save my family. I was good at fulfilling the expectations of others. I could do that.

  “It’s okay to be scared,” he said, interrupting my thoughts, tracing his hand up and down my arm. “You don’t ever let anyone see you scared, do you? You think you have to be so brave for everyone. To put on this face of perfection and never let anyone down.”

  He pulled back and studied me for a moment. His voice was hypnotic as he said things I had waited all my life to hear. “It’s time for you to let someone—let me—take care of you for a change.”

  The moon came out from behind the clouds, and I could see his face as clearly as if it were daylight. I saw real love reflected in his eyes. I saw this face that I wanted to look at for the rest of my life. And in that moment I knew I had to have it.

  “Will you let me take care of you?” he asked.

  I thought of Mark telling me it was my turn to take care of the family, assuring me I had what it took to support us. I saw the way he sat on the couch, never reaching for me that day he lost his job. Mark never saw me clearly. Even on a dark night, Tom saw me. He saw through to my soul. How could I turn away from that?

  “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes. I will let you.” I lifted my hand to him, and he took it, pulling me to stand and walk with him toward his hotel.

  When dawn broke, I slipped from the bed as Tom slept. I pulled on my black dress and disappeared to avoid a morning encounter I wasn’t ready for. I knew that everything had changed, that I could never go back. But during the cab ride back to the condo, I knew I wouldn’t want to. Bad or good, I had a new future now.

  Chapter 28

  Ariel

  I woke to the sound of Justine creeping into the room and slipping into the other bed. I looked out the window and saw light between the slats of the window blinds. In a few hours we would pack up and head home. As she settled into bed, I smelled a new wave of the cigarette smoke that had attached to us both over the course of the night. Where had she been? Who was she with? She had been gone all night. I lay there feeling like the snotty little sister who had the power to expose it all. But to whom? David? Mark? The neighborhood? The mothers’ group? Obviously she was counting on my discretion. I wondered if that had been her plan all along. I was safe, but not in the way I had thought. I was malleable. She could shape our friendship into whatever she wanted.

  I rolled over and willed myself to doze again. My body floated on the waves of consciousness, begging to be pulled under into the sweet abyss of sleep.

  The next time I woke, the sun had climbed higher, and I could hear happy shouts of children by the pool. I looked over to see Justine’s blonde hair on her pillow, the sheet pulled over her face. I stretched noisily and tossed back the covers, hoping the interrupted silence would wake her. We needed to get on the road. My longing for home was even more acute than it had been the night before at the salsa club. I crossed the room to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I would be ready to go before her, my things packed and waiting so she knew I just wanted the weekend to be over. So much for a time to get to know her better. She had only succeeded in alienating me further.

  When I emerged from the bathroom, I found her sitting on the bed, her suitcase packed and her hair thrown into a sloppy, stubby ponytail. She had her keys in her hand. “If you’re ready to go, I’m ready,” she said.

  She looked terrible. I wondered what excuse she’d offer to Mark when she got in. I could still see the effects of the evening on her skin—the dark circles under her eyes, a slightly green complexion from the alcohol. “A shower might make you feel better,” I said.

  “We need to get on the road. I know your family’s expecting you,” she said. She twirled the keys around on the ring.

  “And your family’s expecting you, too,” I said pointedly.

  She looked out the window at the view of the pool and the beach beyond. “We never got to the beach like you wanted,” she said, changing the subject of her family.

  “It’s okay,” I said. The beach was the furthest thing from my mind.

  “Sorry about that. And sorry for leaving you last night.”

  “I was … surprised. When you left.”

  “Well, you seemed to be having a good time with your new friend.”

  “What? Justine, I told you. I wasn’t—”

  “Hey, it’s okay. This weekend was about getting away from your normal life, feeling like someone exciting, someone different. I get that.” She stood up and smiled at me, as if I was her partner in crime. “It’ll be our little secret.”

  “Justine, please understand me. I don’t have any secrets. I can tell David honestly what happened every step of the way last night. And I will,” I added. I had already thought about what I would tell David when I got home. He might get a little jealous, but I had to tell the truth. I had never withheld information from David before, and I didn’t intend to start.

  “Are you sure about that, Ariel? I mean, you wouldn’t want David thinking that you aren’t trustworthy. That you might do more next time. That’s how it starts, you know. A little harmless flirting that leads down the wrong path.” Justine plowed ahead, building her case. “Let’s just keep this weekend between us. What happens at the beach stays at the beach kind of a thing. Okay? No sense in letting people get the wrong idea.”

  “I’m not worried about David. He trusts me.”

  “Don’t be so sure,” she said. “These things have a way of snowballing.” Suddenly tears filled her eyes, and she sat back down on her bed. She put her head in her hands, and I moved to put my arm around her. I could still smell the perfume she had worn last night underneath the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke from the club.

  “I just can’t take any more drama. Laura moving. Mark losing his job,” she said, her voice muffled by her hands. What if all of this weekend was just a delayed reaction for her, an act of rebellion against the hardship that had befallen her? What if she needed me to be a true friend to her and to see her through the drama? What if God put me in her life to love her no matter what? I wondered what God had to do with any of this and realized I had not given Him much thought throughout the weekend. It was as if I was dehydrated—I could feel a physical lack of God and a desperate thirst for Him. I silently prayed in that moment for wisdom and grace.

  Justine
looked up, her eyes red-rimmed. “So will you let this be just between us? For the sake of our friendship?”

  “Sure,” I said, though something inside me hated myself for saying it. “For the sake of our friendship, this’ll stay between us.” The only problem was that I didn’t know what “this” was. All I knew was that she had flirted with men at the club and then disappeared until morning. I both wanted and didn’t want to ask her for specifics. Aside from the fact that I could pretty much guess what had happened, I feared that asking her would only anger her and force her to push me further away. Her friendship had become too important to me. No matter how evasive she had been, she was the first woman to welcome me to the neighborhood. She was beautiful, smart, influential. She had a powerful magnetism that I simply couldn’t resist. Not to mention that I now felt that God had given me a special role in this friendship.

  She gave me a hug. “I knew I could count on you, Ariel.” As I turned to make my bed and finish packing, I tried to decide if that was a good or a bad thing.

  Neither of us said much for most of the ride home. Every so often I would catch Justine looking at me from the corner of her eye, as though she wanted to say something. But I pretended not to see. I didn’t want to talk unless she had an apology for me instead of more justification. No matter what she said about my harmless exchange with Brian, it was not the same as her disappearing act. I tried to put my finger on what I felt—betrayal, rejection, shock, anger? No single word summed up the range of emotions I’d experienced in the three hours we’d been riding quietly.

  As if reading my thoughts, Justine spoke up, clearing her throat first like a warning. “I have something to tell you.”

  Finally. She was going to come clean. Whatever it was, we could move forward from here, start fresh with the truth between us. I would listen and not judge. I would offer helpful advice. “Okay,” I offered, willing my voice to sound kind and open.