Chapter Fourteen
TERESA - NEW ROCHELLE, NY
The door to their apartment burst open, and Teresa jumped to her feet off the couch.
“That son of a bitch!” Frank thundered, and the door slammed shut behind him.
Teresa glanced at the clock on the side table. Ten thirty in the morning on a Saturday. Frank was never home this early. Afraid to ask him what was going on but also curious, Teresa just stood there, staring.
Frank threw his keys down on the side table, ripped off his jacket, and flung it onto the couch. “That son of a bitch,” he repeated even louder this time.
“Shh, lower your voice. The kids will hear you. They’re in their room, playing.” She gestured for him to come closer and lowered her own voice. “Who are you talking about?”
“Jim. I could kill him right now. He cornered me in his office this morning and said some shit to me I can't believe came out of his mouth. He has some nerve.”
“What did he say?” She felt her pulse quicken.
“He told me I'm going to ruin Anthony and Lena. I'm going to ruin my son and daughter. I'm not a good role model for them because I'm not man enough. What the hell does he know? His wife is a cold bitch, and their two daughters are spoiled brats.”
Teresa felt every muscle in her body tense up.
Oh no. Could Jim be onto Frank? Is he wondering about Frank the same way I am?
Jim was a bit of a bully, and Teresa wasn’t sure what he meant by bringing Anthony and Lena into this, but he was certainly perceptive.
She felt heat rise in her neck and butterflies flutter in her stomach.
If the truth came out, it could put them on the brink of destruction.
“What does he mean you're not man enough? And what does this have to do with Anthony and Lena?”
“Who the hell knows? I swear he's spinning something in his head. He's nuts. Seriously. You had to hear what he accused me of. He's got this crazy idea that some of my friends are faggots. And because of that, I may be one of them too. Idiot. What the hell does he know?”
Teresa felt her legs turn to jelly beneath her and slowly sat back down on the couch.
Her worst nightmare was coming true. Her suspicions about Frank, about who he was, what he was— this truth had been dancing around in her mind for a while now, taunting her with its ugliness and its power to consume her. And her silence had been a denial.
But if others were also suspicious, everything would change.
This would ruin their lives and push them past the boundaries of decency.
She understood she had to get to the bottom of what was happening in her marriage before other people found out.
She would have to decide to keep it a secret or ruin everything.
If she kept it a secret, she would live an outright lie.
Her silence would graduate from denial to acquiescence.
She would be complicit in Frank’s lies, a guilty party to his illicit behavior.
But if I confront him, what will happen to our marriage? Our children? She couldn’t find a clear path forward. It was like a landscape she couldn’t see all at once—like the sky at night, which was so dark she couldn’t detect its edges. It was too vast. She had to deal with this issue—but how?
Frank’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “You know he's nuts, right? He doesn't know what he's talking about. He gets these cockamamie ideas in his head, and then he believes them. I told him how angry I was at him, and then I stormed out.”
He sat down next to her on the couch. He grabbed her hand in his, and it felt foreign. They hardly ever held hands anymore. Where is the man I fell in love with all those years ago?
“This will blow over, Teresa. He just blurts out stuff, but he doesn't mean it. I'll go in next week, and I'm sure he'll apologize.”
Frank kneaded her hand with his, and she wanted to pull it away.
She felt smothered by his lies. Disturbing thoughts bobbed to the surface, vying for her attention.
The possibility that Frank had been lying to her for years.
All the time she spent alone, wondering where he was and who he was with.
Was he with his lover all those times—another man? The thought disgusted her.
Teresa pulled her hand away and tucked it by her side, and Frank stiffened. “Frank, I don’t think Jim is going to drop this. I don’t think this is going to blow over.” She was talking about more than Jim and wondered if Frank knew it.
“It will, Teresa, I promise. Jim is just being paranoid.”
“Perhaps, but I doubt it,” she said, unwilling to be pacified so easily anymore.
She didn’t think Jim was paranoid or that he’d drop it. This was just the beginning. The first domino had been knocked over, and she felt powerless to stop the remaining ones that were bound to follow.
While the kids were at school on Thursday afternoon, Teresa met her cousin Ronnie at the aptly named Highway Diner.
They’d hardly ordered their coffees before Teresa started in about Frank.
She felt like she was going to burst if she didn’t confide in someone and voice her concerns aloud.
And Ronnie was the only person she could say something this bold to.
“I’m so sick of Frank hanging out with Henry. They go out all the time. Whether it's dinner after work or hanging out on the boat on the weekends, they're constantly together. And I’m left alone. I swear, Ronnie, I’m at my wit’s end.” Teresa put her head in her hands.
“There's something off about that Henry guy,” Ronnie said.
It surprised Teresa to hear this, as Ronnie had only met Henry once or twice at the boat club. All her synapses were on high alert. Does she sense something about Henry? About Frank? Is the situation more obvious than I thought?
“What do you mean, ‘off’?” she asked.
Ronnie was quiet for a few seconds. “Do you know who Bob Foley is?”
Teresa shook her head.
The server came over with their coffees and placed them on the table. She smiled at both of them. Ronnie lit a cigarette while Teresa wrung her hands in her lap.
“My ex, Charlie, knows him well. They went to Iona Prep together and are still good friends. Play golf together, smoke cigars—guy stuff. Bob’s a business owner.
He owns a chain of restaurants in New Rochelle, Yonkers, and I think Pelham.
Pretty well-connected. And here’s the thing—he’s crossed paths with Henry. ”
Teresa nodded, encouraging Ronnie to continue. She added cream to her coffee and took a sip. It was still too hot and burned her lips.
“Charlie played golf with Bob over the weekend at that hoity-toity Wykagyl Country Club. You know the one? I swear he throws money around for things like that, but it was like pulling teeth to get him to pay alimony when we first separated, you know?” She gave Teresa an exasperated look and took a drag of her cigarette.
Teresa tried to keep Ronnie on track. “What does this have to do with Henry?”
Ronnie blew out the smoke. “Charlie asked Bob how things were with work. And Bob started going off about how he interviewed Henry for a job as comptroller for his company and then offered it to him, thinking surely Henry would take it. And apparently, Henry turned him down. Bob was pissed and then told Charlie some things about Henry.”
“Like what?” Teresa asked, riveted by what Ronnie was telling her—while simultaneously dreading it.
Ronnie leaned in conspiratorially and looked around the diner then back at Teresa, lowering her voice. “Bob told Charlie that he thinks Henry’s light on his feet, cheats on his wife... with men. Now Bob thinks it's Frank who's caught Henry's eye, if you know what I mean.”
Heat rose in Teresa’s neck, and she put down her coffee mug with a clatter. “I’ve heard nothing like that about Henry.” Does Henry have a history of having affairs with men? Why does Frank have to get caught up in this?
“Well, now you have,” Ronnie said.
Teresa spoke slowly, trying to form the sentence that was like a neon sign announcing itself, unable to be ignored. “This guy, Bob, thinks Henry's... a homosexual?”
“He said Henry goes both ways.” Ronnie hesitated, blew on her coffee to cool it off, and then took a sip.
She looked at Teresa. “Oh hon, your neck and face are turning all red. Sorry. I know this is hard.” Ronnie put her hand on Teresa’s and squeezed it.
“But I have to say it. Do you think maybe Frank could too?”
Teresa sipped her coffee. Her head hurt.
She felt like she was trying to figure out an impossible math equation.
She felt exposed for a fool and wondered if that was what she minded most of all.
But Frank wasn’t flamboyant in the way he dressed, spoke, and acted.
And he flirted a lot with women, but now Teresa wondered if that was because he was covering up what he really was.
“You should give Frank an ultimatum—his friend Henry or you. Pick.” Ronnie gestured wildly, her hands moving so fast they looked like butterflies flapping their wings.
“And if he doesn't choose me, then what do I do? Give up my marriage? Try to raise two kids on my own?”
“I don’t know,” Ronnie said. “I’m not sure what to tell you.
Charlie had money. You know that. I took him to court and got alimony.
I don’t have to work. My kids were older than Anthony and Lena are now.
It wouldn’t be easy to be on your own—that’s for sure.
I’m worried that Frank can’t pay enough in alimony and child support. ”
“I’m his wife. We have a family.” Teresa felt tears sting her eyes. “I still love him,” she whispered.
“I know you do.” Ronnie pouted. “But what good is it, though, if what he really wants is to be with someone else? What if he was born into the wrong life, and now you’re paying for that mistake?”
“Do you really think this Bob Foley guy could be telling the truth—about Henry, I mean?” Teresa’s voice sounded tired and meek even to her own ears.