Chapter 35
LUCY
Iconfronted my father the day after his birthday.
Trust me, I wanted to call him out that night, but it was his sixty-fifth birthday, and the timing wasn’t right. And Eddie had undoubtedly noticed the slight, so if I made a scene, he’d know why. I wanted to forget about it, or at least, have everybody else forget about it.
So I waited about eighteen hours, then went by my parents’ house at five on that Sunday.
I kissed my mother and told her I wanted to talk to my father.
“He’s back in his study.”
My mother didn’t ask me why, and I was grateful for that. Maybe my father had already shared his new opinion of Eddie with her, but if he hadn’t, I’d prefer that she didn’t know. I was trying to put out a fire without everyone knowing about it.
I entered my father’s study, and he stood as I approached.
“I was expecting you,” he said.
“You were?”
“Yeah. I had a few too many drinks last night and wasn’t my usual gracious self.”
“Are we talking about the same thing?”
“Does it involve your husband?”
“Yes.”
“Then we are talking about the same thing.”
“I’m all for letting this blow over, but you can’t blame this one on too many drinks, Dad.”
“Why not?”
“Because you said something similar a few weeks before your birthday when you were dead sober.”
He feigned surprise as he lowered back into his chair. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
“Give me a break. You don’t remember making the snide comment about Eddie? Something along the lines of ‘Let’s make sure the veal is okay with him.’”
“Oh, that. That was just me messing around.”
“Then what was last night?”
“Like I said. Me after a little bit too much wine.”
“One time, you could explain away. Not twice. What is your issue with Eddie?”
“Why haven’t you two tried to start having kids?” he asked, seemingly changing the subject.
“We aren’t ready.”
“I don’t believe you. You were gung-ho to have kids leading up to the wedding. What’s changed?”
Now I was on my heels. This was not how I’d expected this meeting to go.
“Since you seem to know, why don’t you tell me why we haven’t had kids yet?”
“Because you are just as suspicious of Eddie as I am.”
“That’s not true,” I said, only partially believing it. “And I thought you really liked Eddie.”
“I did. While he courted you, and for most of this first year of marriage.”
“What changed?”
“I wisened up.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“A hundred small paper cuts finally made me bleed.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, even though I knew what he was suggesting.
“It means that there were dozens of instances of Eddie not being the man that he pretends to be. They were small—almost forgettable—until you remembered them all as a whole. Eventually, I couldn’t overlook them anymore.”
“And you started feeling this way recently?”
“Fairly recently. A few months back.”
“So why did you wait to tell me until we were planning your sixty-fifth birthday? And I’m using ‘tell me’ very liberally. You merely suggested it.”
“With my sixty-fifth approaching, I started to realize that I’m getting old.”
“And …”
He paused and looked me straight in the eyes. I knew what he would say next would be important.
“And I don’t want him getting any of my money when I die.”
“You’re sixty-five, Dad. Not ninety-five.”
“I don’t care. I don’t want him to get my money at sixty-five, seventy-five, eighty-five, or ninety-five.”
“As you well know, we didn’t sign a prenup.”
“And I was fine with that, because you didn’t have any money of your own, and refused to take ours.”
“Then what has changed?” I felt like I’d asked the same question three different ways.
“I don’t know. I feel like he wants our money now.”
“Has he ever said anything that would suggest that?”
“No.”
“To me, either. Maybe you’re wrong about this.”
“Maybe, but I’m telling you. I don’t like him. And I don’t want him getting any of my money whenever I may go.”
“How would you ensure that?”
“There are a few ways around it.”
“What ways?”
“One, you divorce him.”
“C’mon, Dad. I’m not divorcing him because of some feeling you have. Plus, I swore to be by his side through anything. And I take those vows seriously.”
“Your answer is telling.”
“Why?”
“Because you didn’t say you wouldn’t divorce him because you still love him so much. You said it was because you take your vows seriously.”
The comment hurt, mostly because he wasn’t wrong.
There was another way my father hadn’t mentioned. Exclude me from his will. Then Eddie would never get a cent.
But I knew that’s not what my father wanted. He loved me dearly. This was clearly only about Eddie.
“Dad, no offense, but you have to give me more than this. What are these paper cuts you’re referring to?”
“I’ll answer that if you will honestly answer my question.”
This conversation was so rapid-fire that I’d forgotten which question he was referring to, and he could tell.
“Why haven’t you two had any children?”
I paused, so he spoke for the third consecutive time.
“Don’t lie to your father.”
“Because I started to doubt whether Eddie would be a good father.”
“And you felt like maybe you and Eddie wouldn’t last?”
“Yes,” I said, and that’s when I started crying.
I probably should have realized that tears were a possibility, but our conversation was so intense, I didn’t have time. However, once they came, there was no stopping them. I leaned into my father’s chest and cried and cried and cried.
At one point, I realized my mother was now in the room. She came over and hugged me as well, and then I cried in her arms.
She didn’t ask me one time why I was crying. That’s what made my mother such a remarkable woman. The fact that her daughter was in distress was paramount; the reason was secondary.
After a solid two minutes, I rubbed my eyes with my shirt and turned to face both parents.
“Do you know why I’m crying, Mom?”
“I have an idea.”
That was her way of saying, “I know the exact reason why.”
“I don’t know what to do. It’s not like Eddie has ever done anything seemingly wrong. Or at least nothing abhorrent. He’s seemingly supported me as I was looking for my job.”
“You said the word seemingly twice, honey,” my father said. “That’s a red flag that you don’t trust him.”
“But I still love him. I think.”
“Trust is not the same thing as love. In fact, when you love someone, that’s oftentimes when you are the most susceptible to being used.”
My mother stood watching, occasionally putting her arm on my shoulder to comfort me.
“When you guys were dating and engaged,” my father said. “Eddie was never rude to a waiter or a bartender or a valet. I’ve seen it at least three times over the last ten months, or however long you’ve been married.”
I’d noticed it too. “What else?”
“I see his eye wandering occasionally.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not saying he’s cheating, but whenever we’re at a big function, I see his eyes follow the pretty women in the group.”
“That’s eighty percent of men, Dad.”
“His eyes follow them longer than they should.”
I’d noticed that too. Everything I wanted to deny, I was agreeing with. I wanted to cry again.
“Anything else? I’m kind of hoping you say no at this point.”
My parents looked at me with a combination of sadness and pity.
“That’s enough for now, Bruce,” my mother said and hugged me one more time.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said. “When I said my wedding vows, it said until death do us part. It didn’t say anything about getting a divorce if he was occasionally rude to waiters or if he looked at other women just a second too long.”
“Listen, Lucy. I’m sorry I had to put this all on you today. I know how tough this must be. I’m not asking you to get a divorce today. Maybe I’m wrong, and you guys will get through this. Whatever happens, we’ll be here for you every step of the way.”
“You’re not sounding as hard-lined as you were earlier.”
“I’m sticking to my guns that he will never get my money. That’s my choice. Whether you decide to stay with him will be up to you.”
Five minutes later, after a few final hugs, I headed home to see my husband.
How long Eddie would continue to be so remained to be seen.