Back In the Game (26 page)

Chapter 60

“So, what's Richard wearing at the wedding?” I asked. “Is it a formal occasion?”

Nell nodded. “Oh, yes, it's formal, not officially black tie, but Richard and Bob are wearing tuxedos with brocade vests. Richard's will be a sort of mauve and Bob's will be a muted green.”

“I guess the flowers are also mauve and green?” Jess asked.

“I suppose. Richard's always had a good eye for color. I'm sure everything will be lovely. Come to think of it, Richard chose the color scheme for our wedding, too.”

The four of us had gathered for dinner at Chez Bernadine. Laura made a face when I ordered rabbit. What, I wondered, would she be like when she was pregnant and experiencing “morning sickness”? Maybe she'd simply stay at home.

“Sometimes,” Jess was saying, “I wonder if Richard would have stayed in the closet if you hadn't found evidence of his affair.”

“I don't know,” Nell said. “I think he might have. All those years and I never found one other clue. Richard was comfortable in some ways, I think.”

“I think he wanted you to find the evidence,” I surmised. “I think he wanted to get caught so he'd be forced to stop lying and live his real life, finally.”

Nell smiled ruefully. “No matter what pain it caused me.”

Yes, well, love is painful. So is the truth.

“Richard's basically a good guy,” Jess said. “Confused, yes. A coward in some ways, yes, but you almost can't blame him. What an enormous thing, to come out at his age.”

Laura snorted. She might have agreed to go to Richard's wedding, but her attitude toward him hadn't changed.

“Yes, yes,” Nell said, “a coward. It's odd to think of him as a coward, though. Since the day I met Richard he was so responsible, so adult. I believed he could accomplish anything. He really was my knight in shining armor.”

“But did he ever really love you?” Laura asked. Her mouth was set in a grim line.

“Yes,” Nell said promptly. “He did. If I allow myself to remember the good things about our relationship, I find a million and one ways in which Richard demonstrated his love for me.”

“He was cheating on you for most of your marriage. Doesn't that make you furious?”

“I thought,” Jess said, “that we'd gone through all this before, Laura.”

“My sister is stubborn.” Nell turned to Laura. “Of course it made me angry that I was duped. But after a while, I just got tired of being angry. How many times could I yell at him or hang up on him? Being angry didn't get me anywhere; it didn't change anything. I know you can't comprehend this, Laura, but I really do forgive Richard. I really do feel compassion for what he suffered.”

“Good for you, Nell!” I cheered.

“That's very mature and unselfish,” Jess said, “in spite of what your little sister thinks.”

Laura made a face.

“Maybe,” Nell admitted. “But there's something in it for me, too. All the anger was making me old. I could see it in my skin. My GI tract was a mess. I started to lose my hair. And for what? For something I'll never be able to change. Anyway, I just want to be happy again. And I can't he happy unless I move on. And moving on means learning how to forgive.”

Laura made a huffy sound. “Well,” she said, “you're a better woman than me. I don't think I could ever forgive someone for cheating on me, not even if he did it only once.”

“Well,” Jess said with a bitter little laugh, “now I feel horrible all over again.”

I frowned at Laura. “Life's complex,” I said. “Don't you think you're being a bit naive?”

Laura frowned back. “This from the woman who forgave her husband every time he banged some idiot model type who fawned over him at a show? I think you were being a bit naive all those years with Simon.”

Nell cleared her throat. “I apologize for my sister. My mother did her best, but I suspect the doctor dropped Laura on her head when she was born.”

“No, it's okay,” I said. “Really. I can talk about it now.”

“Because she's grown,” Jess said pointedly.

I turned to Laura. “I wasn't being naive. Right from the start I knew all about the affairs and it hurt. I never once thought, well, he's my husband and I made a vow for better or worse, so I have no other option but to take his abuse. I didn't excuse his behavior, either. It's just that I wanted the marriage to work. I thought I was doing the smart thing by letting Simon have his flings. They were meaningless. He always came back to me. And I thought—I hoped—that after a time he'd get tired of fooling around and realize what he had in me, a wife who understood his artistic nature, a wife who wasn't interested in stifling his soul. Well, I was wrong. Wrong but never naive.”

Laura was silent for a moment. Then she said: “Excuse me. I'm going to the ladies' room.”

When she was gone, Nell laughed. “My sister didn't understand a word of what you just said.”

“I know. But I felt the need to say it anyway.”

“You know,” Jess said, “and in spite of my past I'm not advocating trickery, sometimes I wonder why Laura didn't just go ahead and get pregnant. Maybe Duncan would have accepted a baby once the baby was a fact.”

“It wouldn't have worked. I know my brother-in-law. Duncan would have been furious with Laura. He'd have known he was tricked and he'd have left her. He'd have done the right thing and supported the child, of course, but Laura would have been pregnant with no husband.”

“I thought that's what she wanted,” I said. “Sorry. That was mean.”

“Anyway,” Jess said, “that kind of subterfuge is despicable in anyone over the age of sixteen. And even then it's the desperate act of a desperate child.”

“Sssh.” Nell nodded to her left. In another moment Laura took her seat.

“What did I miss?” she asked.

Nell sighed. “Oh, nothing. We were just discussing the half-life of subatomic particles.”

Laura's mouth dropped.

“Laura,” I said, “she's kidding!”

“I knew that.” Laura fluffed out her napkin before returning it to her lap. “Nell is always making bad jokes.”

“Speaking of bad jokes,” Nell said, “Trina tells me she's experiencing perimenopause. She's very upset. She called me three times yesterday to report on her symptoms. Suddenly, she has them all.”

“What's perimenopause?” Laura asked.

“It's a sort of premenopause,” I explained, “a hormonal imbalance.”

“Does everyone get it?”

“You don't get it, Laura.” Nell shook her head. “It's not a disease. You experience it or go through it.”

“So, what makes Trina think she's premenopausal?”

“Let's see. Yesterday it was hair loss—she's convinced she's going bald—and dry skin and anxiety.”

“But those could be symptoms of stress. Isn't she going through a divorce?”

“Trina doesn't experience stress,” Nell informed us.

“What about the anxiety?”

“Good point. But she's probably just feeling anxious because she thinks she's losing her hair.”

“Has she seen her gynecologist?” I asked.

“I convinced her to make an appointment. It seems she's been poring over Internet sites about women's health and self-diagnosing.”

“That could make you nuts,” Jess said. “Most people misdiagnose themselves. It's the power of suggestion. Read about dry skin and suddenly, you start to scratch.”

“I, for one, would be happy not to have periods,” Laura announced. “They're such a pain. Cramping, bloating, irritability, staining, ugh. Who needs them?”

I thought Nell was going to scream; her self-control is admirable. “Women who want to have children. Women like you.”

“Duh, of course. I just wish there were an easier way.”

“Not having periods will be great,” Jess said, “but it will also mean vaginal dryness and estrogen loss and a thickening middle. I, for one, am not looking forward to sex becoming a difficulty.”

Nell took a sip of her wine. “As long as I bleed, I feel young,” she said then, “like I'm still useful as a woman. Is that terribly old-fashioned to admit?”

“Of course not,” I said. “It's not a crime to be proud of your ability to conceive and bear children.”

“It's not as if I define myself entirely by my being a mother.”

“Even if you did,” Jess said, “it's your life, Nell. Define yourself however you like.”

“And how do you define yourself, Jess?” I asked.

Jess laughed. “Depends entirely on the time of day!”

“What about right this minute?”

“I'd say that right this minute I am first and foremost a friend. Which is a very nice sort of person to be.”

Nell eyed Jess. “You sound unusually upbeat. What's going on?”

So Jess told us about the guy she was seeing in southern Maine.

“I'm far from being in love,” she said, “but I am enjoying the time we spend together.”

“So?” Laura asked. “Does he have husband potential?”

“For some women, yes. But not for me.”

“Why not?” Nell asked. “What's wrong with him?”

“Nothing's wrong with him,” Jess said. “He's smart and funny and I find him attractive. But it's just not ever going to be anything serious. I can't even say why, exactly, but I think we both know that. I suppose it's sort of a grown-up version of a summer fling, or an affair without the betrayal, something very fun and a bit decadent.”

“You don't mind driving all the way to Maine?” Nell asked. “I'm still angry at myself for driving to Waltham to meet a man.”

Jess shrugged. “It's only about an hour and a half north. Anyway, I feel like I'm on a minivacation when I'm in Maine, especially if I stay overnight.”

“Of course,” I said, “the lure of the overnight trip. Do you ever get to the beach or do you two stay holed up in his bedroom all day?”

Jess laughed. “We see the beach on occasion. Honestly, because he's in real estate I spend a fair amount of time on the beach alone. He's always getting calls from panicked buyers and sellers who need him to get them some document or another. It's a tough life, real estate. Definitely not for me, but Nick seems to like the high-energy aspect.”

“Well,” I said, “speaking of high energy . . .”

“Grace is being dramatic,” Nell said. “It must be about sex.”

“It is,” I said. “Evan and I finally spent the night together.”

“Congratulations,” Jess said. “I'm guessing from the grin on your face that things went well.”

“They did. It did, the whole evening. There was some of that first-time awkwardness, but we laughed about it and it became part of the fun.”

“But he's, like, old, isn't he?”

Nell rolled her eyes. “My sister is so subtle.”

“He's only fifty, Laura,” I said. “He's hardly decrepit.”

“And you know what they say, the older the vintage, the sweeter the wine. Of course,” Nell added, “I couldn't bring myself to taste the seventy-nine-year-old vintage Dr. Lakes set me up with, so what do I know?”

“As men age,” Jess said, “the good ones, anyway, the ones worth having sex with, they get better at it. They've got experience and they don't rush through like they have a plane to catch. Or so I'm told. Nick is only forty-five and as far as I can tell, he's still in his prime. Come to think of it, Nick is the oldest man I've ever slept with. Huh. All those sixty-year-olds to date and so little time!”

“Older men can't rush through sex,” Nell pointed out. “Everything takes longer to happen. Still, I suppose there's some merit to the experience argument. I don't think I could tolerate some groping youth.”

“Old men are probably totally grateful to be having sex at all,” Laura declared. “Maybe they're good—if they really are, and I have my doubts!—because they want to show their appreciation for a woman's having said yes.”

“Old and grateful?” I shrugged. “Maybe. Whatever the case, Evan is not old and he's incredibly fit and I'm incredibly happy.”

“And Simon hasn't reared his ugly head?” Jess asked.

“Not since we showed up at his friend's apartment to bail him out of trouble.”

“Maybe the sight of you and Evan together shocked him into some sort of coherence.”

“It's possible,” I admitted. “But I'm not expecting any miracles where Simon is concerned.”

“Some people don't change.”

“Some people won't.”

“Some people can't,” I said. “I suspect Simon is part of that group.”

“More's the pity,” Nell said. “Unless, of course, what he's got going on continues to work for him.”

“It might not always work, not when he's lost his physical appeal,” Jess noted, “but who knows? There's always a groupie desperate enough to attach herself to the formerly famous.”

“A leechlike relationship,” Nell said.