14. Charlotte Amicable, Chic Separation
Charlotte Amicable, Chic Separation
“Are you sure this is okay, Julie?” Grace asked as the three of us sat, side by side, on the last inch of dry sand before the tide line. Merit, Iris, and Emma each had a boogie board that Brenna, Jamie, or Audrey was stretched out on. They were running through the shallow surf, pulling the little girls as they shouted with glee.
“They are having the time of their lives!” she said. “What could not be okay?”
I smiled at her. Iris and I were settling into life here. I had even gotten so used to giving up my phone these past few days that today, on a Sunday night a solid hour before dinner, I had left it at the house. I had argued that I needed to prep for work, but Brenna had reminded me that beach time every day was one of our beach house rules. So I had relented.
And Brenna was right. I felt so much lighter as I watched my daughter as she gathered steam and then ran through the waves, laughing, her hair damp from swimming and the spray. I would never have asked for any of this, obviously. And missing Bill was a beating pulse that ran through my every thought, my every breath. But, with the help of these women, I had pulled myself up by my bootstraps. We were getting through.
“So, how’re you doing, Charlotte?” Julie asked.
I scrunched my nose and looked out at a line of birds gliding through the sky. “Maybe you could be more specific?”
She laughed. “Well, how is your life? And how are you settling into the mommune?”
“My life is a swirling pile of garbage. But the mommune is perfect,” I said.
“And Bill?” Grace asked.
My stomach turned. “He is being incredibly stoic, but this is so hard. I mean, the man who has been perfectly paleo for five years is living on white carbs from the cafeteria because he’s saving the generous forty cents an hour he makes mopping so he can have internet time instead of spending it on the vaguely healthy tuna packets from the commissary.” I shook my head. “He didn’t even do anything and he’s allotted three hundred minutes a month to talk to his family. This is just so unfair and I—” I realized their wide-eyed attention was set on me. “I’m sorry. I’m ranting.”
Grace put her hand on my shoulder solidly, to calm me, to hold me in my place. It helped. “Don’t be sorry,” she said. “This is unimaginable.”
“Right?” I said. “It’s unimaginable! In true Bill fashion, he has himself on this strict reading and workout schedule to keep from going insane, but, y’all, this is bad, and what if they can’t prove that he’s innocent?” I took a deep breath.
“What day is his hearing again?”
“Discovery should arrive to Oliver in a couple of weeks, and we’ll know after that. But soon.” I paused. “You guys, what if he has to serve a sentence for a crime he didn’t commit?”
Julie shook her head. “We won’t let that happen.”
I rolled my eyes and immediately felt guilty. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t about you. I’m just scared. People are unjustly incarcerated all the time.”
“Not Bill,” Julie said firmly. Something in her eyes made me know that she was plotting for me. And, well, if nothing else, the woman was a Grade A plotter.
Grace bit her lip just the tiniest bit. It was so small, almost nothing. Even so, it sent a chill down my spine.
“What?” I asked.
“Me?” she asked. “Nothing.”
“Come on, Grace,” Julie said. “That lip bite of yours is never nothing.”
Grace shot Julie a look. “Fine. It’s just… well… Charlotte, what if he isn’t innocent? I mean, what if he’s just putting on a good front?”
And just like that, the kumbaya, sisters-forever mirror shattered. I picked up a shell and drew little lines in the sand with it distractedly. These virtual strangers had already stood by as I unpacked so very much of my baggage. I believed Bill. I truly did. But only a total moron would be so convinced of his innocence that she hadn’t even considered the alternative. After all, he had crossed the line before. But I needed Bill to be innocent. I needed Iris to have the stable, safe life that I had always dreamed of.
“He’s innocent, Grace. He can’t lie to me. He’s never been able to. And he certainly couldn’t convincingly lie about something this big.”
Grace nodded like she understood. I couldn’t open that what if can of worms. So I deflected. “I feel like you’ve heard nothing but my sob story lately,” I said. “What about you two? How are you doing?”
Julie smiled and Grace sighed. “I’m really great,” Julie said. “I’m starting to feel a little guilty, like maybe I’ve imposed on Alice too long. But we’re all so happy here that I can’t bear the thought of leaving.”
We all laughed as Brenna rolled off her boogie board and Merit scooped her up. Yet my heart palpitated nervously. If Julie left, that meant we all left, didn’t it? I felt so safe here, so protected. I didn’t want to leave.
“Noooo!” Grace said, echoing my thoughts. “If you leave, we have to leave!”
“Yeah,” I said. “At least you’re actually her family.”
“No, I know. And I know she loves us fiercely. But we are a full-time job. You guys are basically bed-and-breakfast tenants, but even easier because you cook and clean up after yourselves! I rely on her so much.” She paused. “Maybe too much?”
“Do you know what I think?” I asked. “I think that we, as women, are terrible at accepting help, even from the people who love us. I think that you and your girls bring an equal amount of joy to Alice as she brings help to you.”
Julie rested her head on my shoulder. “That is beautiful. Thank you.”
Audrey ran up. “Mama! I have to tinkle! Now!”
“Can’t you just go in the ocean?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Nooo!” she wailed. “The sharks will get me.”
“Sweetheart,” Julie said, “the sharks aren’t going to get you if you tinkle in the ocean.”
“Yes, they will,” she said, her little teeth chattering.
Julie smiled and stood up. “Okay, I think it might be time to get you in the bath.” She wrapped Audrey in a towel and shouted, “Girlies, it is officially bath time!”
“I don’t want to take a bath!” Jamie whined. But Brenna, looking up at Iris and Emma, kept her cool.
Julie raised her eyebrows at Grace and me. “She is so into looking like a big girl in front of your big girls. Thank you for that.”
Grace nodded seriously. “It will backfire one day soon, but for now, you’re welcome.”
Julie trudged up to the house carrying Audrey, her two little ducklings following her.
“I miss that stage sometimes,” Grace said.
I nodded my agreement. Merit and Iris had ditched the boogie boards and grabbed two surfboards, a soft-sided small pink one for her and a green longboard for him. They were paddling out side by side. I bet my daughter thought she had won the high school lottery. “I miss it in some ways,” I said. “But I think I’m a better mom at this stage, when she’s more independent.”
“The worries are so much bigger now, though,” Grace said.
I nodded. “I am constantly worried about her safety. Will she get in a car wreck with a friend? Drink at a sleepover? Get kidnapped by a random stranger or raped by someone she trusts…” I trailed off and looked at Grace. “Sorry. That got dark.”
She shook her head. “It’s just reality. Merit on that football field might be the death of me.”
I squeezed her forearm. “At least he’s the quarterback with all those big linemen to protect him.”
What I was really thinking was that Jason Street in Friday Night Lights was the quarterback and that didn’t help. But that was a TV show. “We can’t worry about every little thing,” I said. “Bottom line, we have to teach them everything we can, hope they make good choices, and pray that God will figure out the rest.”
Grace nodded. “This is when I need Troy, you know?”
I squeezed her arm again. “I can only imagine.” I knew that having a son with no father around was complicated. Iris was my person; I was hers. But Merit had so many interests that I knew were probably from his dad, questions that Grace couldn’t answer; male influence was desperately lacking from the mommune.
“I keep thinking that if I’m the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect cook, Troy will somehow intuit that all the way from Tokyo and come to his senses, come back to me.”
It felt like a gut punch, the way her pain was just so raw and on display. “Oh, gosh, Grace. I’m so sorry. I thought you wanted the separation.”
Even through her sadness, she yelled encouragement as my girl managed to stand all the way up on her board for a full two seconds before she plunged into the water. We both jumped to our feet and cheered. But that was motherhood, right? Compartmentalizing your own pain to accommodate your children’s joy. “That’s a good boy you’ve got right there,” I said. “Teaching Iris to surf like this? What a great distraction.”
She smiled. “Merit has this relationship with the water that I’m envious of. The ocean scares me, whereas he is just so at peace with it. He understands it in a way that is lost on me.”
I nodded, looking over at her. “Yeah. I get that. You can tell the local kids from the vacationers right away. That saltwater runs through their veins.”
“Troy was one of those locals, and he certainly had no trouble leaving.”
“Grace, I imagined this amicable, chic separation for you. But I think that’s because I’m still reconciling the Instagram Growing with Grace with the real Grace.”
“I know I made it seem that way when we met.” She sighed. “But the truth is that I would have done anything for him, gone anywhere for him, managed any distance for him,” she said with a cool ferocity that caused the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. “After he left, after we cried and promised this would be short-term or the kids and I would move, he told me he wanted a divorce. Over the phone.”
I shook my head. “That’s awful.”
She nodded. “I don’t know if that was his plan the whole time or he met someone else or what. But suffice it to say, I am devastated.”
Merit and Iris were paddling out again. “I am so sorry.” I gave her a small sideways hug as best I could and almost jumped as Julie reappeared between us—with a bottle of wine and three plastic cups.
“It’s like you read our minds!” I said.
She smiled. “What did I miss?” she asked as she poured.
“Not much. Just my sad story for the hundredth time,” Grace said. “Nothing like a hugely heavy mental breakdown to kill a Sunday vibe!” She laughed.
“Thank you for sharing with me,” I said. “I mean it. I want to know you more. You too, Julie. And Alice.”
“I’m a pretty open book,” Julie said. “Girls. Nosy, pushy reporter. Mommune.”
“But you’ll never know Alice,” Grace said.
“You don’t feel like you know her?”
Grace shook her head. “Oh, Charlotte,” she said flippantly, “no one really knows Alice.”
“Not even you?” I asked Julie. “You’re family.”
Julie shook her head. “I love Alice. She’s an amazing woman. But I’ve never gotten that deep with her.” She shrugged sadly. “I’m not really sure even Alice knows Alice.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up again as I wondered who I had moved my child in with. But this is temporary , I reminded myself. I could go home any time.
Iris, board in tow, paddled through the water, then stood and slogged the rest of the way toward us. “I am exhausted!” she said, flopping down beside me on the sand. I scooted close to her and put my arm around her wet shoulders, planting a kiss on her temple. “You were great out there!”
She looked at me skeptically. “Mom. I was fair at best .”
I laughed. “No, I mean it. You were great. I am so proud of you for trying something new.” I paused. “No, I’m proud of you for diving into this new life. I’m proud of you for not even complaining about not having your cell phone!”
She laughed and rested her head on my shoulder. “It’s not so bad.”
I took a deep breath, wrapping my arms around her, smelling the saltwater on her skin, savoring this moment of my girl being just a girl, softening around the edges. It was bliss.
One of the best things about living on this beach was the way the sunset was just a little different every single day. Tonight, the sky was the palest pink, a soft baby blanket dotted with fluffy clouds. It was a lullaby sky that could soothe me into believing that everything was going to be okay.
As Merit popped up on his board and rode a wave all the way to shore, I thought about Bill, about what an athlete he was, how important his physical shape was to him, how disciplined he was in what he loved. Grace’s earlier question seeped into the corners of my mind. But no. Bill was strict and sure, and his moral compass was strongly intact now. As Iris cheered for Merit, I thought about bringing her here, about the situation I had put her in. And that unsettled feeling returned with the echo of Julie’s words: I’m not really sure even Alice knows Alice . But my teeny, tiny doubt about Bill made me wonder: How well did we ever really know anyone?