Chapter 14 #2
Alarm had to be written all over Anne’s face because James immediately shook his head at her and whispered, “I won’t say anything.”
She nodded, feeling a small squeeze of gratitude.
From the foyer, Arthur called out, “You’ll never guess what Rosie did today, my love! It made her look exactly like a human.”
“The neighbors’ Labrador,” James clarified. “Arthur takes daily walks to visit her in their yard.”
Anne barely registered the explanation. She’d been so focused on the aftermath of coming out to James, and then on this poem of Sadie’s, that she hadn’t even considered Arthur.
Was she ready for him to know? Did she want this news to leave the quiet intimacy of her first confession—so soon after it had happened—and start leaking out into the world?
The idea made Anne a little faint. Nauseous, too, as the implications of her realization began to trickle in.
Arthur didn’t matter, not really, but he wasn’t the end of the conversations she’d need to have.
Or the conversations that would begin happening outside her knowledge.
Did you hear about Anne Lowell? I know! Isn’t it shocking?
Both her and James, can you believe it? She had me completely fooled.
Did you hear? Anne Lowell is a lesbian.
Sharp anxiety scratched at her raw, soft places.
James was still watching her, his expression concerned.
Anne shook her head quickly to clear it. Well, she’d have to make a quick decision before Arthur came in. There were multiple options. She could lie to him or muddy the situation or stay silent and let James come up with a story, or—
No.
Maybe she didn’t have Sadie at the moment, but she could have something else.
Anne could come out to James, and she could come out to Arthur, and, as a matter of fact, she could come out to anyone she damn well liked.
Fuck staying silent or hiding the truth, from herself or from anyone else.
Fuck caring about other people’s opinions.
She’d done more than enough of that for one lifetime, and where had it gotten her?
She had a clear choice: to turn away from herself, just like she’d always done—or she could cut off a sixty-year-old whalebone corset.
Anne took a deep breath. If she knew who she was now, if she couldn’t look away from this anymore, well, then, the people in her life needed to know, too. That was all there was to it. Damn the consequences.
No half measures. Not for Anne Harris Lowell.
Arthur entered the kitchen, all smiles, and surprise brightened his expression. A short, round, balding man who’d never met a stranger, he was rarely anything but sunny. Anne had always found it a little unsophisticated.
“Hello, Anne,” he said, clearly surprised to see her there, and then, to James, “Hello, my love.”
“Hi, darling.” James accepted Arthur’s quick kiss with a fast squeeze of his arm. Real delight brightened his face, just at the sight of his husband, and for a second, Anne couldn’t even recognize him as her former spouse.
She braced for the usual resentment that came with noticing James’s transformation. Instead, though, an entirely new realization blossomed, so quickly that she barely had time to wonder where it came from. He likes who he is now.
“To what do we owe the pleasure, Anne?” Arthur asked pleasantly, glancing between Anne and James.
“She just dropped by.” It sounded awkward, clumsy, in a way James never was. “For—uh, for—”
“I can speak for myself, James, thank you,” Anne interrupted, gesturing at him to be quiet. “Hi, Arthur. It’s good to see you.”
“It’s so good to see you, too.” Arthur’s sincerity always outperformed Anne’s politeness. “We almost never get you down here. Is Sadie with you?”
“No. I was just—”
“Oh!” Arthur snapped his fingers. “Before I forget—love, did you remember to get those tickets for the Gay Men’s Chorus next month?
I promised Tony and Paul we’d be there. They’re doing a Madonna medley.
” That was directed at Anne. “I’m crossing my fingers they’ll include ‘Let Down Your Guard.’ Do you know that one?
It’s a B-side from Bedtime Stories she didn’t release in the U.S. until recently.”
“I, uh, I don’t—”
“Oh, they’ll probably just sing all her greatest hits. I won’t complain.” That, to James. “I promise.”
“We’ll see,” James said dryly.
“But I was looking ahead to the chorus programming for next season, and—”
“Arthur,” Anne interrupted. Out of nowhere, a rare devilish impulse bubbled up inside her. No half measures. “Would you like to play a little game with me?”
Arthur looked surprised, then delighted. “Oh, I’m always up for games. What subgenre—board, video, card?”
“A guessing game.” She didn’t hesitate. “How many gay people are in the kitchen right now?”
On the other side of the island, James stared at her, then let out a soft groan.
“How many—gay people?” Arthur looked between Anne and James, clearly at a loss. “I’d say the answer is pretty darned obvious, but—maybe there’s someone hiding in the pantry? Is that the twist? Oh, Jimmy, your shirt’s all stained.”
“There’s no one hiding in the pantry.” Bizarrely, Anne was enjoying herself. “James, want to tell him the answer? You can say it. It’s all right.”
“Three,” James said. “There are three of us. Three gay people.”
“I don’t understand—”
“Everyone,” Anne said slowly, “in this room. All of us.”
She looked Arthur levelly in the face, something she hadn’t been able to do with James on the front doorstep.
Was it normal to feel excited at saying it out loud, when just a few minutes ago she’d felt hot worry scrape inside her?
“That’s what I came over to tell James. And now you’re here, so I’m telling you. I’m attracted to women. Exclusively.”
“You’re attracted to—”
“I always have been. I just couldn’t let myself acknowledge it until very, very recently.” About twenty-four hours ago, to be exact. “So—there you have it.”
“But Anne—” This time, Arthur interrupted himself. “Look at all the men you’ve dated since the divorce!”
“None of them lasted longer than five minutes.”
“You were married to him”—Arthur pointed at James—“for thirty years!”
“And he was married to me for thirty years. God, James—” A thought occurred to her, right enough that it didn’t feel new, just seen. “We must have sensed something. Did we know on some level all along? That we needed each other, I mean. Not in the way you’re supposed to need a spouse, but—”
“—because you were safe,” James finished. “And I was safe.” Wonder spread over his face. “You know, even after I figured it out, I never once thought to ask myself why I’d been enough for you. It never occurred to me.”
“Oh.” Arthur sounded like he was having a moment. “Oh.”
Anne offered James a small smile. “We can’t erase what’s happened or get back all that time, but—” She took a breath. “I guess we can try to understand it a little better. Maybe that’s enough. It’ll have to be.”
“You’re a hell of a woman, kid, you know that?”
He’d called her kid on their first date, and Anne remembered, as clear as anything, how good she’d felt hearing it. Safe. Safe enough to get a little thrill from the nickname and misspell it into attraction.
Arthur’s head was swiveling back and forth between them like he was at a tennis match and their long history was the ball. “Oh, my goodness gracious,” he said, in a tiny, wavering voice. “It’s true, isn’t it? You’re a lesbian.”
He sounded shocked, not declarative, but the words still rang in the room nonetheless: the first time Anne had heard her own revelation echoed back at her from someone else.
It felt good. No, so much better than good. It felt correct.
Just like that, the last tiny grains of uncertainty—what if she’d somehow gotten this all wrong? What if she was turning her life upside down for nothing?—disappeared completely.
With that gone, it was so much easier to smile. “Are you all right, Arthur?”
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you? You’ve just—oh my God. You just came out. You came out! This is a huge deal! Anne, has anyone—James, did you congratulate her yet? Of course you didn’t, it’s not like you to think about—”
Almost before she realized it was happening, Arthur rushed over to Anne’s side of the island and wrapped her in his arms, squeezing her tightly.
Too surprised to move, Anne stayed where she was, wedged inside his full-body hug.
“Mazel! I’m so thrilled for you. May this give you the same happiness it’s given James.
You know, my grandmother always used to give us her blessing by saying ‘Zolst leben un zein gezunt,’ which means ‘You should live and be well.’ She’d tell you the same now, if she were still with us, so I’ll just say it in her place. Zolst leben un zein gezunt, Anne.”
Anne was sincerely touched. “Well, that’s very—”
“Of course, my grandmother also used to say, ‘Arthur, dray nisht arum vie a forts in roosl,’ and that’s Yiddish for ‘Arthur, don’t wander around like a fart in a pickle barrel,’ so not all of her expressions were kind ones.”
“Honey,” James said gently from behind them. “Why don’t you let Anne breathe?”
“Sorry, I’m sorry. I know. I can be a lot sometimes.” He released her, stepping back.
Something in Anne made her say, “No, it’s okay. Really. I think I’m all right with a little much today. Arthur, thank you for—”
Unexpectedly, she reached for him again and pulled him back into a quick embrace.
It was the first time she’d ever hugged Arthur and meant it. From the way he tensed with obvious astonishment, Arthur clearly realized it, too. Only for a second, though, and then he had his arms around her again.
“Two hugs,” he said softly. “Wow. I sure am a lucky guy.”
You’re married to your person. A flash of pain cut through Anne’s appreciation. You have your spouse.
Out loud, she told him, “You sure are.”
* * *
As luck and talent would have it, Anne was able to steer the rest of their conversation in the direction she wanted. For the most part.