The Friends We Keep

by Jane Green

  “I have no idea,” said Joan, looking at her son. “I’m in perfect health.”

  Topher cleared his throat. “My mother is, as you can see, in perfect health, but I’ve noticed some . . . confusion . . . recently. I’m just a little concerned it might be something more serious.”

  “Confusion?” His mother grew imperious. “I’m not confused in the slightest. I’ve never felt better.”

  “Mother,” he said gently. “Earlier today you told me you were dating my father, who has . . . well.” He looked at the doctor. “He’s been dead for over twenty years.”

  “I did?” Rather than being angry, or refuting what she would surely think was a ridiculous claim, his mother seemed meek, unsure.

  “You did. And there have been other things that are uncharacteristic. You phoned me the other night, or morning rather, at three, and you didn’t seem to realize it was the middle of the night. You said you were about to go out shopping.”

  “I did?” she said again as Topher felt his heart lurch. His mother had always been so strong, so elegant, so together, and yet now, as he looked at her, she seemed small and confused, almost childlike, as Topher felt a stab of pain, seeing his omnipotent mother seem so fragile, so vulnerable. He reached out and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as she smiled at him, seeming again to come back to herself.

  The doctor asked a series of questions, at the end of which he looked at Topher.

  “Mr. Winthrop, I think your mother is in excellent health”—Joan smiled like the cat who got the cream—“and at her age this kind of confusion and memory loss isn’t uncommon. Her recall of the past is exceptional, and it may be that there is a touch of dementia, but I’m not seeing any of the other signs—trouble finding the right words, mood changes like depression, or anger and aggression. Often people suffering with these kinds of issues stop keeping up things like personal grooming, but that clearly isn’t the case for you, Mrs. Winthrop. I think we keep a close eye with monthly checkups, and I will give you my details so you can contact me with any concerns.”

  “You don’t think it would be wise to maybe start researching . . .” He paused, wondering how to put it delicately. “Some sort of assisted-living facility?”

  “I already told you,” Joan interjected, “I am staying in my house.”

  “We could maybe find someone to come and stay in the house with you. To help out a bit.”

  “Do you remember that lovely Filipina we had?” Joan said dreamily. “She was your Yaya. Baby. Isn’t that funny? That was her name, Baby, and her husband’s name was Boy. They lived in the guesthouse and made the most delicious food for us. Oh, you loved her, Topher. She indulged you horribly. She’d take you out for walks and buy you every sweet thing you wanted.”

  Topher shot the doctor a look that said, See? This is what I’m talking about. Why is she banging on about someone who worked for us fifty years ago? Dr. Khan just smiled at him with the slightest of eyebrow raises and a nod.

  “We will monitor,” he said softly, “and if we see further deterioration, we can run some tests. But, Mr. Winthrop, for eighty-five, all things considered I would say your mother is pretty spectacular. Let’s keep in touch, but a lot of this is normal. I know it’s worrying to see a parent get older, but your mother is in great shape.”

  “I told you,” she said to Topher. “No need to see a doctor after all. When you drop me home, don’t forget to get tickets to Bedroom Farce. And you should bring all your friends. My treat.”

  “Okay.” Topher shrugged helplessly, his mother back to her normal self. “Will do.” He took her arm as they walked to the car, worrying about the future but grateful, so very grateful, that he was able to be there for her now in a way he was never able to before. He had spent all this time resenting her, convinced that she didn’t protect him from the abuse, convinced she refused to see what was so obvious because it would have marred her perfect life, but now he knew he was wrong. All the anger and resentment was gone, and he was able to enjoy her in a way he hadn’t since he was a child.

  And if she needed to be taken care of, he would do that, too, even though, all those years ago, she wasn’t able to take care of him.

  forty-one

  - 2019 -

  Driving along the shaded roads was the first time Evvie and Maggie had been alone with any proper time to talk, the first opportunity for a true heart-to-heart. Evvie hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what Maggie said the night of the reunion when she burst into tears claiming her marriage to Ben had been a disaster. Maggie had described it as being filled with deceit and lies, and Evvie hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what that might mean.

  She hadn’t been able to ask Maggie, had to wait until Maggie was ready to talk, even though she was desperate to know. Maybe today would be the day Maggie revealed all.

  “I am so sorry we lost touch,” Evvie said, thinking about Jack.

  Maggie took her eyes off the road for a few seconds to look at Evvie. “Me too. I always wondered what happened, why you just disappeared. I didn’t realize how much I missed you until you came back into my life. What happened, Evvie? Was it Ben?”

  Evvie blanched. “What do you mean, was it Ben?”

  “I know you never liked him. You saw something in him that I never did. I think you knew what he was really like.”

  “What do you mean?” Evvie shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  “Did you know about the drinking? You worked with him at that bar, remember. You must have seen it. I saw it myself, but I chose not to believe it was a problem.”

  “What are you talking about, Maggie? What drinking? Weren’t we all drinking back then?”

  “Right. But not like Ben. He never stopped.” Maggie took a deep breath. “I’ve never been able to tell anyone this. He didn’t die of a heart attack, Evvie. I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone the truth. Not even you and Topher. He died of alcoholic hepatitis.”

  “What?” Evvie’s voice came out in a shocked whisper.

  “He tried getting sober. Many, many times. He did AA and various kinds of rehab over the years. He had periods of sobriety, when I thought we had a chance, that we could be happy, but they never lasted.” She pulled up at a red light and turned to Evvie. “I don’t know why I stayed, and now I don’t know why I didn’t do more. Our marriage was so broken by the end, but I didn’t know what to do. Do you know I joined a bereavement group soon after he died? But I had to leave. None of them had been through the same thing I had. I lost my husband to alcohol long before I lost him to hepatitis. I loved him and I hated him, and on the day he died I finally found the strength to tell him I was leaving him.” Tears filled her eyes as she blinked them away, trying to stay focused on the road. “I still feel guilty every day. For sending him that text, for not doing more, for not doing things differently. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for asking for a divorce on the day he died.”

  “Oh, Maggie,” Evvie whispered, tears in her own eyes now as she looked out the window, in total shock. “I had no idea.” But she did have something of an idea, she realized. That perfect week after she graduated? Ben was drunk every day. But everyone was, back then; she didn’t think that was anything out of the ordinary. Granted, Evvie hadn’t been drunk. Topher wasn’t drunk very much, nor Maggie, but her week with Ben was during his vacation, and wasn’t it normal to drink to excess on vacation?

  Ben had been an alcoholic. Evvie couldn’t believe it. For so many years she had held Ben Curran up as the perfect man. The one who got away. The only one who might have made her happy. The only good man she had ever been attracted to. All the others had turned out to be like her father: abusive, alcoholic, or both. And she had always thought Ben was the one man who was different, the one man who was normal. How wrong she had been! Thirty years of a false assumption disappearing in a flash. He was like all the others. Evvie w
as the one who had been wrong, in oh so many ways.

  She thought of Jack then, how lucky she was that he hadn’t inherited his father’s alcoholism. Evvie was enough of a compulsive eater to recognize the addiction gene in others—even though she had never figured it out about Ben—but she always felt relieved that Jack didn’t have it.

  Evvie turned to look at Maggie, putting a hand over hers. “I don’t know what to say. I had no idea. I thought you had the perfect marriage. I thought Ben was the perfect man.”

  “No one had any idea,” said Maggie. “I went to great pains to make sure everyone thought we did in fact have the perfect marriage. I felt such incredible shame. We stopped going out, stopped seeing people, because he was always drunk. And the fights we had.”

  “Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Because I don’t want to keep secrets anymore. I stayed in a miserable marriage because I thought I needed, I don’t know, the status of being married, and because I kept thinking that I could make him change. But the whole thing was a spiderweb of lies, and I don’t ever want to lie to people I love again. I needed you to know the truth.”

  She looked at Evvie with a smile, but Evvie couldn’t look back at her. She looked out the window, wishing her heart wasn’t beating as fast as it was. Now would be the time for Evvie to reveal her own deceit, her own lies. The very fact that they didn’t have a perfect marriage might be enough for Maggie to forgive her. But she immediately realized the alternative was too terrible to imagine. Evvie couldn’t tell Maggie about Jack. Not now. Maybe not ever. She had just been offered a second chance at happiness, and she wasn’t about to do anything to jeopardize it. This secret was one she had to continue to keep.

  By the time they reached the animal shelter, Maggie was chatting away about other things, Evvie pretending to listen, astounded at how she didn’t see Ben’s foibles, how she had always assumed he was the one healthy relationship she could have had, relieved Ben never told Maggie, never left her for Evvie, as he had talked about doing that fateful night in New York. Most of all, she felt guilty, guilty, guilty.

  She forced her own secret aside, bringing herself back to the present, to Maggie, to be the best friend she could be, given all she now knew.

  “Are you okay?” Maggie looked at her as they were about to get out of the car. “You’ve gone quiet.”

  “I’m just . . . I’m a little shocked. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry we weren’t in touch.”

  “You’re here now.” Maggie squeezed her arm. “That’s all that matters.”

  There were only six dogs, and none of them felt right. The only one they both liked needed a quiet home with no men, as the dog deeply feared them. They spoke to the woman in charge and said they were very quiet, in a large house filled with adults, and that there was one man, who was terribly gentle, and were sure the dog would be fine.

  The woman shook her head, saying she couldn’t bend the rules. Maggie was demoralized, Evvie relieved that they were doing something, anything, to take her mind off the conversation in the car.

  “It’s probably a good thing,” said Maggie as they made their way back out to the parking lot. “This must be the universe’s way of telling us we’re not supposed to have a dog.”

  Just then a van swung into the lot at great speed. Maggie threw out her hand and stopped Evvie from stepping in its path. “Whoa. That’s fast.”

  The van came to an abrupt stop as a woman with frizzy hair and red, puffy cheeks rushed out, throwing a cigarette on the ground. She huffed around the side of the car, opened the back, and pulled out a cage containing a small gray terrier that looked less like a dog and more like a lamb. It was the cutest dog they had ever seen.

  Evvie and Maggie stared at each other, wordlessly, before Evvie approached the woman.

  “Excuse me,” Evvie said politely as the woman scowled at her. “Are you dropping your dog off for adoption?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “They have a huge amount of paperwork,” Evvie said, who had no idea if that was true but suspected it might be. “It takes about forty-five minutes to complete.”

  “Ah shit,” said the woman. “I’m in such a rush.” Her face fell.

  “We came here looking for a dog,” said Evvie. “Your dog looks perfect. We could just . . . take him. Or her.”

  “Him.”

  “There wouldn’t be any paperwork,” Maggie said, trying not to smile.

  The woman’s face lit up.

  “Can you tell us anything about him?”

  “He’s two years old, a purebred Bedlington terrier. He was my daughter’s dog but she just had a kid and can’t cope, so I ended up with him. My other dog’s a Staffie and he hates him so we can’t keep him, but he’s a lovely dog. He’s a lover. Just wants to be cuddled. His name’s Scout and he’s house-trained. Very easy.”

  Maggie looked at Evvie, then crouched down to see Scout.

  “If you’d be willing to let us have him, we’d give him a lovely home,” she said. “We’re big animal lovers and I’ve had dogs all my life.”

  “I definitely don’t have to fill out any paperwork?” said the woman.

  “No. We’ll take him right now.”

  “Here you go.” She lifted up the cage and handed it to Maggie, and before anyone could say anything else, she was back in the car and zoomed out of the parking lot at high speed.

  “Oh my God.” Evvie couldn’t stop grinning. “Talk about the universe sending a message!”

  “I can’t believe how easy that was! This is the perfect dog for us. This is the dog we’re supposed to have. Hello, Scout!” she crooned through the bars as the little dog wagged its tail. “We’re your new family. Let’s go home.”

  They stopped at the pet shop on the way home, taking Scout out of the cage and each picking him up to cuddle, crooning over how cute he was as he looked up at them with large black eyes.

  “He’s a cutie. Which is a relief, given that we now own a dog we didn’t even meet properly. She didn’t even take him out of the cage!” Evvie started to laugh.

  “I was terrified that stern woman from the shelter would come out and take him away. I just wanted to get him out of there. Look at that face!” Maggie put her face close to Scout’s, who licked her all over. “He’s adorable.”

  “He’s perfect. We’ll have to take him to the vet to get checked out. She took off so fast, I hope there’s nothing wrong with him.”

  “I think there’s something wrong with her driving, that’s all,” said Maggie. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Scout, is there?” she murmured.

  At the pet shop they bought leads, bowls, a bed, and bags of toys as everyone stopped to pet Scout.

  “What a lovely little fella,” the shop owner and his two other customers said as Scout wagged his tail for everyone, looking up at them with big black eyes filled with happiness.

  “He looks like he belongs to you,” said everyone who stopped, after Maggie and Evvie told them they had just adopted him. And they smiled, sure this was true.

  * * *

  • • •

  Hello?” Maggie called through the front door as they walked in, Scout stopping to smell all the unfamiliar scents.

  “Hello!” Topher echoed from the kitchen. He came out, saw the dog, and stopped in his tracks.

  “What the hell is that? Have you brought home a pet lamb?”

  “It’s not a lamb. It’s a dog. A Bedlington terrier called Scout. He’s our new mascot.”

  “Hello, Scout. Aren’t you lovely! Come and say hello.” Topher crouched down, extending a hand, which Scout ignored, taking off into the kitchen. “Knows his name then?”

  “We don’t know very much about him, but he’s definitely very clever,” said Maggie, who was delighted at having a dog again in the house. “This was an impromptu rescue.”

 
“Honestly, this was fate,” said Evvie, bringing the bags into the kitchen. “There were no suitable dogs at the shelter, and just as we were leaving, this grumpy woman showed up with Scout, and we just . . . took him.”

  “House-trained?” asked Topher.

  “Yes,” Maggie and Evvie said at the same time. They all turned at the sound of something trickling, and sure enough, Scout was marking his territory on the leg of the kitchen table.

  “Oh fuck,” said Evvie, giggling despite herself. “I’m not cleaning that up.”

  “I’ll do it. It’s not like I haven’t done it a million times before. He’s just nervous. I can train him,” Maggie said. Scout emerged blithely from the laundry room and made his way over to the table. He came straight over to Topher, sat down, and looked up at him.

  Topher leaned down and lifted Scout onto his lap, whereupon the dog curled up, snuffling his snout under Topher’s arm. “Well,” he said. “Aren’t you the cutest lamb ever? He is adorable. I didn’t know we were getting a dog.” He shot a look at Maggie, who shrugged, with no apology whatsoever.

  “Don’t blame me,” she said. “Evvie took me to an animal shelter today and we were supposed to be just looking. For fun.”

  “No one goes to an animal shelter and looks just for fun. You have to come back with an animal. It’s a universal law.”

  “Shhh. Don’t tell her now,” said Evvie.

  “He seems like he belongs here.” Topher stroked him softly. “Can he sleep on my bed tonight?”

  “I’ll fight you for him,” said Evvie.

  “We’ll all take turns.”

  Evvie sidled up to Maggie. “You know how earlier you said you were worried that this would all end and we would go back to our lives and you’d be left alone in the same old house? Now it can never be the same again. We’ve brought Scout in, which means that the future will be different, no matter what.”