She Makes It Look Easy

by Marybeth Whalen

  “Ariel?” she asked.

  “Yes. I’m here.” I sat motionless.

  “Are you aware of Justine’s relationship with my husband?” she asked.

  “Umm, sort of? Just that they dated in high school.” I felt a throbbing behind my eyes. Where was she going with this?

  “Ariel,” she said, “when you were out of town with Justine, Tom was out of town too. He said it was business. I had no idea that she was gone the same time or that there was anything to worry about. At the time I was still going on the assumption that we were going to make the best of the fact that Tom and I had become neighbors with his long lost love, and to figure out how to live with this … coincidence. I thought we could all be adult about it, what with Justine’s happy marriage, not to mention my own.”

  I thought of how progressive it had all seemed.

  “I think that Tom was in Myrtle Beach when you were.” I heard the voice in the background again. “Okay, I guess I need to be completely honest. I know Tom was in Myrtle Beach when you were.”

  Like a movie reel in my head I saw Justine on the balcony talking on the phone with her back to me, taking forever to get ready the night we went out, standing in front of me at the club saying she was leaving, then disappearing into the crowd. I heard the creak of her bedsprings as she crawled in at the break of dawn. I closed my eyes to erase the images from my mind, but they wouldn’t budge. In my head I knew that Betsy’s phone call explained a lot, but in my heart I wanted another explanation to be true. “How do you know something’s going on?” I asked, stalling. “Maybe this is all just a coincidence.”

  “There’s lots of things. I know this sounds crazy, but I found something on our computer,” she said. “He downloaded a Barry Manilow song. Barry Manilow, Ariel. Would your husband download a Barry Manilow song of his own volition?”

  I thought of our ride home, the Barry Manilow song she had tortured me with, and my blood ran cold.

  “Wouldn’t you want the truth? I mean, if you were in my shoes?” she went on. “I’m speaking to you from one wife to another. A wife who knows something’s going on and just needs some help to prove it. The knowing but not knowing is driving me crazy.”

  I thought about the man next to me in the restaurant that night I had gone to dinner alone. The man who called his lover and then his wife. The two voices—two personalities—he used when he spoke to them. “Yes,” I said, my voice weak, “I would want to know. But something’s telling me knowing for sure isn’t going to make you feel better.”

  “I just want the truth.” She sighed. “I hope you have told me the truth.”

  My stomach sank to my feet, and I rested my forehead in my hand. I thought of Justine’s face when she asked me not to say anything about the weekend. Surely she hadn’t seen Tom. Surely there was another explanation for what was going on. She was going through a hard time. She had blown off steam. But was she committing adultery with our neighbor? Could the Justine I knew do that? It was unthinkable. There had to be an explanation beyond what Betsy was suggesting. Besides, I didn’t even know this woman. She could be crazy, always accusing Tom’s neighbors of being in love with him wherever they moved. I had to get more information before I ratted out my friend to a virtual stranger. “Yes,” I said. “I have.” Was I lying? “But if I find out anything that I think would be helpful to you, I will let you know,” I offered, an olive branch to make up for the lie. She thanked me, and we hung up.

  I immediately made another call.

  Justine answered the phone just before voice mail picked up, as though she started to avoid me, then thought better of it. “I just got a phone call from Betsy Dean,” I said.

  “And?” Justine asked, her voice perky as ever. But I had learned something about Justine. The perkier her words, the less she meant them.

  “She wanted to know what happened that weekend,” I said.

  “And what did you tell her?” I heard no panic in Justine’s voice. I tried to take that as a good sign.

  “That nothing happened, nothing out of the ordinary,” I said dutifully, hoping my loyalty would bridge the gap that had opened up between us.

  “Well, you know nothing happened so of course that’s what you told her,” she said.

  “She said that Tom was there. In Myrtle Beach. Did you know that?”

  She laughed. “Now how would I know Tom was there?”

  “Well, I mean, he’s helping you get a job and I thought maybe—”

  “Maybe he went dancing at the same salsa club as us?” She laughed again. “You were there. Did you see him?”

  “No, but—”

  “But what? Oh, that’s right. You weren’t in the club the whole time, now were you?”

  “Justine, I explained that.” Heat rose up my neck, reddening my face. Yet I had nothing to be ashamed of.

  “I know. And I accept your explanation. But you must admit it could look bad if someone got the wrong idea. Which is what’s happening here. Listen, Betsy’s a nice woman. You know I’ve tried to be her friend, and I genuinely like her. But this whole story sounds a bit paranoid, don’t you think?”

  I got up from the couch, allowing Justine’s words to free me and fill me with hope like air in my lungs. “Yes, it was strange. I mean, how did she pick me to call? And how did she know about our weekend away?”

  “This neighborhood’s full of talk. That’s what happens when gossipy types get involved. Always trying to stir up trouble where there isn’t any. Look, I am sorry you got pulled into this. I really am.” She paused, sighed. “Plus, she’s neighbors with Erica, and I’ve heard they’ve gotten pretty chummy. Erica has been known, as I’ve said, to get in the middle of neighborhood drama. To stir the pot. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was behind Betsy’s paranoia.”

  “Well, I’m glad you told me the truth.” It was more a question than a statement.

  Justine paused. I heard her breathe in and out. “Of course,” she said. “We’re friends, right? Friends tell each other everything.” She hung up before I could affirm that we were friends or comment on how much that meant to me. And yet, something in me still felt uneasy.

  I drank a glass of water before scrolling on my caller ID to Betsy’s number. She answered as soon as the phone rang, her voice breathy.

  “Betsy?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said. She spoke in a low voice. “Ariel?” she asked. I pictured her the night of my party, laughing and talking to neighbors I didn’t know as Tom raised his glass to her.

  “I just wanted you to know I talked to Justine and she assured me that she had no idea Tom was in Myrtle Beach. I just wanted to offer that as reassurance after our last conversation. I thought—you know—that you would want to know that.”

  She sighed. “Ariel, do you actually think she’d admit it to you if she did?”

  “Yes,” I said, nodding my head even though she couldn’t see me.

  She started whispering. “Listen, I can’t talk right now. Tom’s home. But I want you to know that I am going to try to believe both you and Justine. Just know that it’s a bit hard. A wife just has an instinct about things like this,” she said.

  “I understand,” I said.

  “Do you?” she asked.

  I started to answer but realized she was already gone.

  Chapter 32

  Ariel

  The boys and I had our summer days at the pool down to a routine. We efficiently packed the things that had become second nature: sunscreen and water guns, towels and snacks. I carried the heavy bag, and Donovan pulled the new rolling cooler. They lined up like soldiers for their sunscreen, no words needed. They knew the drill. As they ran off to jump in the pool, I flopped down into the nearest lounge chair, pulling a novel from my bag. I had been reading the same novel all summer, it seemed. I wondered how other women
had time to read.

  A shadow loomed over me, and I looked up to find Erica standing beside me. “Can I sit here?” she asked, pointing to the chair beside me. I hadn’t spoken to her since I took Heather’s pictures, hadn’t seen her since that day at the doctor’s office.

  “Sure,” I said, shrugging. I wondered why I was being so apathetic toward this woman I actually liked. A voice echoed in my head: Because Justine said so.

  She got settled on her towel and spritzed herself with suntan oil, smiling at me. “No SPF whatsoever. How’s that for taking care of myself?”

  “I usually forget to put anything on myself at all, so I don’t have room to judge,” I said with a half smile. “How’d you like Heather’s pictures?” I asked, just to make conversation.

  “They were great. She’s so proud of them. Her friends, too. Did you get my thank-you note?”

  I nodded, my mouth pressed into a grim line. I had read it and thrown it in the trash can hastily. “Thanks for that,” I said.

  We sat in silence for a while, our eyes closed to block the relentless rays of the July sun. Beads of sweat collected on my skin and ran like tears. I was about to jump in the pool to cool off when she spoke. “Listen, Ariel. I, uh, just wanted to let you know. That was me in the background when Betsy called you the other day.”

  “Oh?” I said, not opening my eyes. It was more of the confirmation I had been seeking that Justine was telling the truth.

  “Betsy’s my neighbor,” she said. “We’ve become friends.”

  “That’s great,” I offered.

  She paused. I opened my eyes and turned to face her.

  “Betsy needs a friend right now,” she said.

  “I’m sure she does,” I answered. “It’s good she has you. Being new in the neighborhood and all.”

  “I was new here once. And I ran into some trouble myself not long after. I get what she’s going through. It’s very close to what I went through.”

  “Is that right?” I replied, cautioning myself against engaging in what could quickly become gossip with this woman. I liked her, but I didn’t trust her. I realized I trusted none of my new neighbors. That said a lot about this supposed dream neighborhood.

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard my sad story?” she asked, leaning up on her elbow and looking at me intently. “Justine didn’t gleefully fill you in?”

  “No. Should she have?” I mentally arranged my features so they looked innocent.

  She looked away, watched her daughter do a flip off the diving board and enter the water with a grace only afforded the young. She lay back and sighed. “I just thought—when—”

  She closed her eyes as though the story would be easier to tell if she didn’t have to make eye contact. I closed my eyes in solidarity. “When you didn’t speak to me at the doctor’s office that day, I thought it was because Justine had told you my story.” Her laugh was bitter. “At least, her version of my story.”

  “She didn’t say anything to me about you,” I said. That wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to hurt Erica’s feelings by repeating Justine’s warning. And I didn’t want to break Justine’s confidence. I was getting exhausted just trying to keep up with who had told me what.

  “I’m surprised she didn’t warn you about me—say I was a bad seed or whatever it is she says about me.”

  I didn’t say anything in response but waited for her to continue. “I was friends with her when I first moved here. She was nice to me, showed me the ropes, took me under her wing. All that stuff. She’s a regular welcoming committee. So I wasn’t surprised when she got to you first. Of course it helps that you live in her backyard.”

  “Yes, we share a gate so the kids can come and go. It’s nice. The boys love their playset, and they have an open-door policy.”

  “My ex-husband helped build that playset,” she said. “And after everything we went through, it’s so hard for me to watch what’s unfolding.”

  “You mean with Betsy and Tom?”

  “Yes, Betsy and Tom. He’s a lot like my ex. Of course, my ex was a pastor, if you can believe that.”

  I did not admit that I already knew that. A popular pastor, Justine had told me on one of our walks, with a growing congregation. “Really?” I said.

  “A pastor who was just as weak as any other man who thinks with the wrong part of his anatomy. He ran around on me. And I took it for years. No one knew. And to this day, no one does. Everyone thinks I was this heartless shrew who wanted a divorce for no reason.” Her words matched what Justine had said, only in a different way.

  She leaned over on her chair and lowered her voice. I leaned closer to hear her. “He thinks I did it for him, but really I did it for her.” She pointed at Heather, standing in line for another chance to dive off the board. “She has her daddy on a pedestal, and I wasn’t going to be the one to knock him off. So I kept his secret, and in exchange he gave me the house and pretty much anything I wanted. He did quit being a pastor. I guess his conscience got the best of him.” She paused. “He was the pastor for that big church that has the mothers’ group you go to with Justine. I got ousted from there and, for the most part, from this neighborhood.”

  “It sounds very lonely,” I said. My words fell short.

  She lay back down. “It was hell. I became persona non grata around here.”

  “So why did you stay?”

  “For Heather,” she said. “She had her school and her friends and her home. I couldn’t take that away from her after her daddy left. I had to make it work. Be a grown-up. I couldn’t let what I wanted take away from what she needed.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. I tried to imagine what losing her marriage and her reputation all at the same time had done to her. That she still showed her face amazed me … and earned my respect. She blinked at me, gauging whether I was sincere. “That must’ve been really hard on you,” I added. “I don’t know if I could’ve done it.”

  “Well, it’s over now,” she said.

  “Is it?” I asked. I thought of Justine’s warning to me and almost told her.

  “For me it is. I’ve grown past it, become a stronger person because of it.” She smiled. “I have my daughter and a beautiful home. There are some women in the world who would be very happy with what I have. I’ve learned to focus on that.” She paused. “Plus, I see a bigger purpose for staying here now.”

  “What?” I asked. I wanted her to help me see the bigger purpose.

  “I think I’m supposed to be here for Betsy, to help her figure all this out. I know all the signs, all the tricks. My ex gave me a crash course. It’s the one thing I would consider myself an expert at.” She gave me a wry smile, and I lay back down. “Tom’s moving out.” She turned to look at me with a look so serious my breath caught in my throat. “You can’t tell anyone that.”

  “And you think he’s cheating with … someone?”

  “Honey, I know he is. There’s no thinking about it.”

  “But—”

  “Look, I’m not asking you to figure it all out right now. But I am asking you to consider that there might be more here than meets the eye. You were with her; you know if she’s different suddenly. You know if her behavior seems odd or if she did anything—anything—that didn’t add up when you were away for the weekend. I know you want to protect her, but I just have to say that, in this situation, protecting her is the wrong thing to do. There are people—innocents—who are being hurt, and I just hope that you’ll decide to do the right thing if you know anything or if you stumble upon anything.”

  I knew she didn’t expect an answer, yet still I fumbled for one that would absolve Justine. I thought of how sincere—and sad—she had looked when she came over. She hadn’t looked like a woman who was carrying on an illicit affair. No matter what, I didn’t want to act too impulsively or spill my
guts unnecessarily. If I kept silent, I could buy time for her to come to her senses and stop anything that might be going on. There was still time to derail this train. I closed my eyes, letting the sun warm me as I said a prayer to really see what was going on. And what I should do about it.

  “Daddy’s home!” Donovan called out as we pulled into the garage beside his car. This was a surprise. I couldn’t remember the last time David got home before six. The boys scrambled out of the car and dashed inside to see their daddy, while I stayed outside and gathered wet towels and discarded pool toys from the seats. I felt him slip his arms around me from behind as I backed out of the van with my arms full.

  “I got an earlier flight,” he said.

  “I see that,” I replied, giggling as he nuzzled his face in my neck.

  “I missed you,” he said.

  I heard the boys inside fighting and laughing at the same time. For a moment I stopped long enough to breathe it all in—the feeling of David’s arms around me, the sound of his voice, the knowledge that we were all together and nothing was missing. No matter how often I let myself succumb to that sense of wanting more, for that moment I just let what I had be enough.

  “I missed you too,” I said. He moved his arms so I could turn around and take the things I was holding inside.

  “You should make the boys do that,” he said.

  “They were excited to see you. I couldn’t blame them.”

  “I thought we’d go out to dinner tonight. The boys want pizza. Does that sound good to you?”

  “Not cooking sounds great to me.” He could have suggested a greasy fast-food restaurant and I would’ve said yes.

  “Maybe we could get a movie while we’re out to watch when the boys go to bed?” he asked.

  “That sounds about as close to perfect as I could ask for.”