Chapter Nineteen
“There. You’re gorgeous! Gerald will spit blood when he sees you.” Joy stepped back and squinted approvingly.
Ellie smiled. “Definitely what I’m going for. Thanks, Joy.” She studied herself in the mirror. She looked quite…lovely. Herself, but a little younger, maybe. “The last time I wore makeup was to Addie and Nicole’s wedding.” Would Gerald notice? She hadn’t seen him in three weeks, but tonight, they were meeting at the Wicked Oyster for dinner. Not on a date. For a conversation.
“My pleasure! You can raid my stash whenever you want. I’m doing a makeup session tomorrow at work for my activity.”
“Really?” Ellie asked.
“Mm-hmm. Just because you’re senile doesn’t mean you can’t look your best,” Joy said, and Ellie sputtered. “Maybe I shouldn’t say ‘senile,’?” Joy amended. “Just because you’re at death’s door doesn’t mean you have to look that way. Better?”
“No.” Ellie laughed. “What about the men?”
“Men wear makeup, too.”
“True, true. So you like work?” Joy had been practically levitating the other day when she told Ellie about her job.
“Oh, I love it!” she said. “I feel so useful. We did chair dancing today. Joyful Movement, I’m calling it. Get it? Because of my name? I basically blast a playlist and they sit there and move whatever parts they still can. Florence fell dead asleep, and Bob almost toppled over, but at least he can still stand on his own. They practically rioted when ‘Uptown Funk’ came on.”
“That’s the best song.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Ellie’s phone rang. Unknown caller, but a 508 area code. “Hello?”
“Hello, is this Elsbeth Smith?”
“Yes.”
“Hi! This is Anita Santini, Lorenzo’s mom.”
Ellie looked at Joy, then hit “speaker.” “Hi, Lorenzo’s mom. How are you? Is everything okay?”
“Oh, gosh, you sure are a mother, aren’t you? Isn’t that always our first question? Everything’s great! I was just saying to my husband that we Santinis should meet the Smiths. Our kids have been dating for two months and we haven’t even gotten together yet. Are you free this weekend, by any chance?”
Oh, dear. “Um…you know, I think I am, personally,” she said, unable to lie. “Not sure about anyone else, though. Have you run this past, um, the kids?” She pulled a face at Joy.
Anita laughed. “Not yet. I figured we moms are really the ones in charge. I haven’t thought this through too much, but Lorenzo said he was off, which doesn’t happen that often, let me tell you, and Lark told Izzy she had Saturday free—Izzy’s my youngest—and anyway, whoever’s around could get together. I just feel like it’s time, don’t you?”
“You know, I…um…”
“Hello?” said Joy, leaning down to speak directly into the phone, her generous cleavage forcing Ellie to lean back. “Hi, this is Joy, Lark’s landlady and Ellie’s friend. I’d say I’m Lark’s other mother, but Ellie here would smack me.”
“Joy!” Anita cooed. “We’ve heard such lovely things about you.”
“Really? Thanks! Hey, why don’t you come to my house? I have a place on the water, and it’s huge. I’ve been dying to have a party. My brother and I used to host get-togethers all the time, and I’ve really missed that since he passed away.”
Shit. Ellie shook her head and made a slashing motion across her throat. Joy took the phone and turned away, smiling.
“That’s so generous, Joy. Silvio and I have been saying we want to come down to Wellfleet. It’s such a pretty town.”
“Joy,” Ellie whispered. “Not a good idea.”
“Then consider it done! However many Santinis can come should plan on Saturday at, oh, one o’clock? I’ll have Ellie here rally her kids, and we’ll have a wonderful time!”
“Lovely! Thank you so much, Joy!”
Ellie threw up her hands.
“I can’t wait to meet you all,” Joy said, beaming at the phone. “I’ll grab your number from Ellie’s phone, and we can talk tomorrow, how’s that?”
“Perfect! Looking forward to it.”
Joy clicked off and handed the phone back to Ellie. “A party! How fun!”
“Did you forget Lark’s not actually dating this guy?” Ellie asked. “Now we’ll all have to pretend they’re a couple.”
“I know, but the brother, right? Tell me you picked up on some chemistry there. The air was throbbing with, oh, gosh, what’s that word that means horniness?”
“Pheromones. The brother thinks they’re dating, too, Joy.”
“Oh. Right.” Joy put her hands on her hips. “Well, we can figure it out. Anyway, you should go, or you’ll be late. Should I wait up?”
“I…it’s your house, Joy.” She took a breath. You know what? This party was Lark’s problem. She’d warned her daughter not to be dishonest, and now the chickens were coming home to roost. “Thanks, Joy. For the makeup and…well, for being a wonderful friend.” She hugged the other woman. “Wish me luck.”
Because yes, she was about to meet her husband. Possibly her soon-to-be ex-husband. Who would now be invited to Joy’s house this weekend where they, like Lark and Lorenzo, would have to pretend to be a happy couple.
What goes around, comes around.
Gerald stood up when he saw her. Wisely, he’d commandeered the most private table in the place—in the corner of the smaller dining area. Most patrons had chosen to sit out back, since it was a warm night.
“Hey,” he breathed. “Wow. You look…beautiful.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking her seat before he could hold it for her.
He did not look beautiful, and she was immediately gratified. He looked exhausted. Bags under his eyes, a little patch of gray stubble he’d missed shaving, a slightly musty smell around him. The smell of home, she realized. His hair seemed to have more gray in it.
“Chardonnay, please,” she said when the server came over to take their drink. Ah, it was Brianna, who’d gone to school with Robbie. “Hello, honey.”
“Mrs.Smith! Mr.Smith! How are you? Gosh, you guys look exactly the same. How’s Robbie?”
“He’s just fine,” Ellie said. “I’ll tell him you said hello. Can we order now, sweetheart? We have to discuss some family plans and need a little privacy, if that’s okay.”
“Of course!”
“I’ll have the risotto with scallops,” she said.
Gerald took the hint, glanced at the menu. “Want to split the calamari?” he asked. They usually shared an appetizer, but this was not a regular date.
“I’m all set,” she said, handing the menu back to Brianna.
“I’ll have the same thing she’s having, then,” Gerald said. “Thanks, Brianna.”
“You bet.” She walked off, and they looked at each other.
“How have you been?” Gerald asked. She could feel the nervousness rising off him.
“Good,” she said, keeping her tone neutral. “Joy’s house is beautiful, and we’re becoming really close.”
“Great. Good. That’s…that’s great. And the gallery?”
“I don’t know, actually,” she said. “Meeko is running it this summer. I check in, do some painting, whatever. I’m on sabbatical. You know. Since I haven’t had a vacation in ever, really.”
“You deserve it. Definitely. I’m…well…God, this is awkward, isn’t it?”
“I wonder why.” She narrowed her eyes at him, letting him know she wasn’t here for pleasantries. Brianna came back with their drinks, and Ellie sipped hers, not looking away from her husband. “Heard from Camille lately?” she asked.
“No! Not since January, Ellie. I deleted my Facebook account.”
“Are you expecting a trophy for that?”
He took a slow breath. “Look, honey, I will apologize for the rest of my life, if that’s what you need. Whatever it takes, I’ll do.”
“And yet I have no way of trusting you anymore. How will I know you’ll do what it takes? You lied to me, you were sneaking around—”
“I met her once for lunch. It was one sneak.”
Her stomach burned with fury. “You were sneaking around every time you took out your little iPad, hiding in the attic to DM her and tell her about your tepid marriage and bitchy wife. Meanwhile, you said nothing to me. You didn’t tell me our marriage was so lackluster, Gerald. We’ve never gone for more than a few weeks without sex, and that was usually because I’d just pushed a baby out. So that part is a bit confusing.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I lied to her. I wanted her to think I was more available than I was.”
“So you lied to me, and you lied to her. What a catch you are.”
He swallowed, glancing around in misery. “I’m sorry.”
“That fixes absolutely nothing,” she snapped. “This unhappiness of yours…this loneliness, this busy wife who ignored you…you made all that up because you wanted to reconnect with a high school crush? You risked our marriage for something that insignificant? You’d break up our family for that?” She was leaning forward, hissing like a snake, and forced herself to sit back up. They knew far too many people in this town.
Brianna brought their dinners, told them to enjoy and left again.
Gerald didn’t say anything.
“Speak,” she growled. “Explain yourself.”
He took a long, slow breath. “Okay. Okay. Ellie, I’ve obviously been thinking a lot about how this happened, and why. All I can tell you is how I was feeling last year. How I was feeling, not how you were making me feel or anything like that. I’m not that stupid. I know this is all my fault.”
“Go on.” She stabbed at her risotto.
“So…I’d hurt my back, remember? Lifting that guy off the floor at the hospital?”
“Yes, I remember.” Gerald hurting his back meant he was in agony, unable to move without breaking into a sweat, his face reddening, breath coming in short gasps. It happened every couple of years, despite the exercises he did, despite the physical therapy he’d had. And when his back was out, it meant she had to do everything for a solid two weeks, from grocery shopping to helping him shower. She never minded, not until right now. Sickness and health, good times and bad. Forsaking all others, goddamn it.
“And that was pretty much that, career-wise. I mean, I’d been cutting back my hours, but all of a sudden, it was decided for me. That part of my life was over, just like that. It surprised me, how much I missed it.”
“And yet, here you are, picking up shifts again.”
“Because you wanted me to. Because you needed me to.”
“So now you’re husband of the year?”
“No. I’m just saying, I’m trying to make things right with us. You asked me to, and I am.”
“Anyway. Hurting your back made you have an affair?”
He started to contradict her and then, wisely, did not. He took a bite of his meal, chewed, swallowed. “I felt like an old man,” he said. “You know? Once upon a time, I could do anything, and now I had to lie on the couch with ice and Motrin.”
“Sounds like a vacation to me.”
“And I’m married to the most capable, talented, energetic—”
“Ew. Stop.”
“No,” he said, putting down his fork and leaning forward. “No, Ellie. You are. You are those things. Look at you. You’re sixty-three years old, and you’ve never done more than you have in the past five years. You run the gallery, you’re a grandmother…I mean, the way you connected with Matthew was so beautiful and instantaneous, and Esme and Imogen worship you. Our kids are in awe of you. You paint and run a business. You’re a success in every way measurable. I think you’re right up there with Grace Henry and Winslow Homer, and you just get better every year.”
She took a bite of the risotto and said nothing.
“And I’m lying on the couch with ice and Motrin, and I can’t even fix the fucking fence. Or paint that butt-ugly bathroom, or do half a dozen things I’ve been wanting to do. I have to pace myself, like an old man, or I’ll end up back on the couch.”
“Why didn’t you say your back was the reason you didn’t do those things? You always acted like you were just about to do them as soon as you finished something more important.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not incredibly proud of it.” He took another long, slow inhale. “I didn’t want you to know. Stupid male pride, wanting my woman to think I’m still big and strong and capable.”
She had always loved when he called her his woman. Against her will, the words caused a tingle in her veins.
“So, last September,” he went on, “I had a forced retirement, and you…you were just hitting your stride. You sold every painting last summer. It was amazing.”
“Let’s not forget the summer of Mathilda, Gerald. I’ve had to dumb down my work ever since.”
“You say that, but your stuff is still gorgeous. I…I was jealous. And a little…ashamed. I know you went back to work because I could never earn quite enough. We both know that.”
“I was always going to paint again, Gerald.”
“I know. But you started up earlier than you wanted to. In that moment, that year, I needed you to. I never said it out loud, but we both knew it. We were scraping by, and you stepped up. Fast-forward twenty years, and yeah, you have the business and your art, and you have an employee and the baby artists who think you’re a goddess, and I…I didn’t have anything like that. I didn’t know how to tell you that I was so proud of you and so jealous at the same time.”
She let that sit for a minute. It felt…authentic. “You could’ve tried, Gerald. You owed that to me. And you could have done something to expand your own life. Taken a class, started a new hobby, spent more time with the kids or your dad. Instead, you go to Facebook and start flirting with an old classmate.” Her anger rose again. “Did that fix your ego? Because the guy on Facebook chatting with Camille Dupont sounded utterly pathetic. ‘My wife is so busy! I’m so boring.’?” And you’re not. You never were.”
“Thanks,” he said.
“It’s not a compliment. It’s a fact.” She speared another scallop. “Back to Facebook. What made you start talking to a woman who’s completely devoid of morals and makes a pass at a married man?”
He winced. “Yeah. Well, I didn’t know I’d…connect with her. I was literally flat on my back, watching The Crown on my iPad, feeling like a loser. Figured I’d see who was around, which people might be out there I’d like to get to know again. I didn’t seek her out. I’d forgotten about her, to be honest.”
“Until you remembered her.”
He nodded, shame painting his features a dull red. “Yeah.”
“And then you were young again? A new man? Full of potential and excitement? I mean, Gerald, we watched so many other couples fall apart. Remember when Brad Fairchild left Lillie, and you were so disgusted with him? So embarrassed for him? Then you do the same thing!”
“No, Ellie, I didn’t do the same thing. I let myself be entertained. I never would have cheated on you. It was a flirtation. I never did more than kiss her on the cheek that one time we met. It was…fun.”
“I guess I’m not fun, then.”
Gerald sat back, his face hardening a little. “You know what, honey? At the time, no. You were working. You were painting these beautiful canvases and running the gallery and hiring Meeko and mentoring the baby artists and teaching classes, and then, at the end of the day, I’d cook us dinner, and we’d have an hour, two hours, together, then go to bed.”
“I think that’s called marriage, Gerald,” she spat.
“I know. I know. I just felt…lonely, Ellie.” His voice broke. “The kids were gone, the summer was over, our grandson went back to California, my career was done, my body’s falling apart, and you didn’t see any of that. I know I’m completely at fault here, but that’s where my head was.”
“Damned if I do, damned if I don’t,” she said. “I’m amazing for doing what I do, and I’m blamed for the same damn thing. You told her you wanted to be an APRN, and that’s bullshit, Gerald. I wanted you to do that. Do you know how it felt for me to read that? I’ve been jealous of you, because you got to semi-retire, then fully retire, and have the time to do all the things we’d put off for so long. I had to keep working, and while I was doing that, you reached out to someone else! You broke my heart, Gerald.”
She was crying now, and she put her hand up to her face so no one else could see.
She felt his hand on her arm. “I know,” he whispered. “I know. And I’m so, so sorry, honey.”
They stayed that way for a few minutes until she stopped with the tears. She hated crying. Hated it. She wiped her eyes, took a deep breath and finished her wine. Was this what their talk was supposed to accomplish? Was all this honesty actual progress? It felt more like doom.
They sat in silence a few minutes. At least she could still eat. No misery starvation for her, no sir. Joy’s trashy food, crap she’d avoided for decades, was delicious. Those cupcakes with the peel-off frosting? Fantastic. Bugles? Salty deliciousness. She’d probably gained ten pounds over the past few weeks.
“My father reamed me another orifice, by the way,” Gerald said. “Can’t wait till the kids find out and do the same. I’ll be Swiss cheese by the time they’re done.”
“Your father is a near-perfect human,” she said.
Gerald nodded. “Can’t disagree there.”
“Will you ever forgive him for being so…absentee when you were growing up?” There. Steer the conversation to other waters, because there was no point in staying in their storm-tossed waves.
He tilted his head, those blue eyes still so damn gorgeous. He had a little Paul Hollywood going on there, that salt-and-pepper hair, those husky-bright eyes. Unfair. “It always seemed like everyone got the best part of him, and Mom and I were left with the crumbs until I was an adult. That’s what I never wanted to do to you, Ellie. I never wanted you to feel second to my career.”
“I never wanted you to feel that way, either,” she said. “I was really, really careful for that not to be our way. We both were.”
“And it worked.”
“Until it didn’t, apparently.”
“I made a big mistake, Ellie. It was impulsive and stupid, and it will never happen again. Please forgive me.” He reached over and cupped her cheek, his eyes so full of concern. “Please let me make this up to you.”
“Not yet,” she said. “I’m not over it.”
“Don’t leave me,” he whispered. “We can fix this. Please.”
“We’ll see. I want to, Gerald. But I don’t know if I can. I’m not the most forgiving person in the world.”
To her surprise, he laughed. “I know. It’s one of my favorite things about you. Grudge holding.”
“What grudges? I don’t hold grudges.”
“What about Larry?”
“I don’t have a grudge against my brother-in-law. I’ve always hated him. He’s never given me reason to stop.”
He smiled. “How about the little girl who used to bully Winnie? Pushed her off the slide? And her mother told you to stop having kids because you were driving up town taxes.”
“Oh, God. Lorraine Brandowski and her little demon, Oakley. The kids called her Poison Oakley. Winnie needed three stitches. You’re right. I wouldn’t pee on them if they were on fire.”
Gerald chuckled. That history of theirs. That long, rich, wonderful history.
“What if you get bored again?” she whispered, tears rushing back into her eyes. “What if you’re lonely again? How can I believe you, Gerald, when you were thinking of another woman for four months?”
His brows drew together, and his blue eyes were so…shit. They were so sincere. So beautiful. “Faith?” he said. “I hope you’ll think we’re worth a second chance. I really, really hope you’ll think that, Ellie. You’re the love of my life. You are my life.”
The words hit her straight in the heart. “You were on a roll there, but no Hallmark card stuff, okay?”
He quashed a smile, knowing her through and through.
“I’m gonna stay with Joy for the time being,” she said. “I haven’t forgiven you yet. You’ve done damage. It doesn’t just evaporate because you’re sorry.”
“I understand. And I miss you.”
She missed him, too. More than she wanted to. “By the way,” she said, “Joy is hosting a party this weekend with the fake boyfriend’s family.”
“Oh, are they still doing that?”
“Yes. You’ll come, and if the kids ask you, tell them you’re still working on the house stuff.” She stood up. “Thanks for dinner.”
“I love you, Ellie.”
She grabbed her purse. “I love you, too. That’s the problem.” Then she turned and walked out of the restaurant into the breezy night.