Between Friends (7 page)

July 2, 1973

My dearest Lesley,

I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you and the children. Your father has been extremely unreasonable about this. When he learned I’d been over to see you and the kids, he got into such a state, he nearly had a heart attack. He’s absolutely forbidden me to contact you again. This situation with the long gas lines isn’t helping his temper any. He waited two hours to fill up yesterday and came home in a horrible mood. As far as I’m concerned, OPEC is a four-letter word!

Does Jillian know about Mr. Murphy’s gas station closing down? It’s the saddest thing to see a man’s lifework disappear because of foreign greed.

I’m miserable without you and dreadfully miss seeing my grandbabies. Lily has agreed to deliver this note to you, plus the ten dollars. I wish it was more, but that’s all I was able to get this week without your father suspecting.

Buck was here for dinner yesterday. I could hardly look at him, and I was disgusted that your father would have anything to do with the man. Buck and your dad sat around all afternoon watching baseball and drinking beer. Buck complained the entire time about that highfalutin attorney you’ve got working for you. It was all I could do not to stand up and cheer. He’s let himself go, I noticed. His shirt needed washing and he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days. Your father assured Buck you’d come to your senses soon.

Don’t give in, Lesley. Your father would probably put his fist through the wall if he knew I’d said that. You have more courage than I ever did. I’m proud of you.

I love you, sweetheart. Stay strong.

Love,

Mom

***

July 5, 1973

Dear Daddy,

I miss you. I saw fireworks at the park.

Love,

Davey

***

July 10, 1973

Dear Lesley,

Okay, baby, you win. I miss you and the kids too damn much to pretend I don’t. I wake up in the morning and there’s no reason to crawl out of bed. For years this trailer didn’t seem to have an inch of extra space. Now it feels big enough to drown in.

I’m sorry about Terri, sorrier than you’ll ever know. I’m not going to offer any excuses—it happened and I was the one at fault. I regretted it all along. I never meant to hurt you or the kids, and I can see that I have.

Can we talk? Please? I miss my family. Nothing is right without you. The kids miss me, too. I want to see them. Let me visit, okay? How about if I come this weekend? I’ll take Davey fishing. You know how he’s always wanted to go with me. Later I’ll take Lindy and Dougie for ice cream so they won’t feel left out. Afterward, you and I can talk. Say I can come, Lesley. Don’t keep me away from my children.

I don’t deserve you, but I’m begging you, baby. Talk to me, that’s all I’m asking. Give me a chance to make it up to you and the kids.

Buck

***

JILLIAN LAWTON

330 FAIRCHILD AVE. APARTMENT 3B BOSTON, MASS. 02138

August 4, 1973

Dear Montgomery,

Just a note to thank you for all the work you’ve put into helping my friend in the matter of her divorce. In her last letter to me, Lesley mentioned that she and Buck were talking about reconciling. I’d hate to see that happen, but I can’t make the decision for her.

I appreciate the updates on my father’s health. He does seem more chipper these days and I’m sure that’s because you’ve taken over a number of his professional responsibilities. But it won’t be forever; if everything goes according to schedule, I’ll be joining the firm about this time next year.

My parents consider you a valued friend and I want you to know that I do, too.

Sincerely,

Jillian

***

September 12, 1973

Dear Jillian,

I’m enclosing a picture of me and the kids. I’m the one with the big hair. I love this new style! All I have to do in the mornng is wash it and let it dry. Of course, my head looks like a dandelion gone to seed, but that’s beside the point.

The kids look happy, don’t they? Davey has missed his father something fierce—his daddy and his clubhouse. Davey was barely three when the two of them built that rickety old shack, but it remains my son’s retreat from the world. Without his clubhouse, he’s been a lost soul.

Lindy has taken to sucking her thumb again. I’m sure the divorce proceedings were responsible for that. And predictably Dougie started wetting the bed. Children need their father.

I’m telling you all this for a reason. I imagine you know what it is. Buck and I are getting back together. I didn’t make this decision lightly, any more than I made the decision to leave.

You and I both know Buck has his faults, but every one of us does. I have his word that he’ll never cheat on me again. He begged me to give him one last chance to prove himself. He begged me not to break up our family.

For weeks I’ve been torn, not knowing what to do. My children cry at night after Buck comes to visit, because they miss him so much. They all want to move back home.

I used to think I was smart, but solving algebra equations is a whole lot easier than making decisions that affect the lives of my children. Maybe I’m weak. I don’t know any more. I wouldn’t take him back if I didn’t firmly believe he’s learned his lesson. I’ve made it clear that if he has another affair, it’s over—right then and there.

Thank you for your support and love during this time. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Jillian. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.

Your mom is interviewing other women for the housekeeper position. There’s a reason I’m not going to continue with the job. Oh, Jillian, I did something terribly stupid. You don’t need to be upset with me, because I’m upset enough with myself.

Earlier in the month, Buck stopped by the apartment one night. The kids were all asleep and he said he wanted to talk. We did talk, but then he spent the night and, well...you guessed it. I’m pregnant. I haven’t told Buck yet, but I already know he’ll be absolutely delighted.

We’re both going to give this reconciliation everything we have. I wouldn’t do this if I had a single doubt of his love for the children and me. We’re both going to try harder to make our marriage work.

I’m grateful to Montgomery Gordon. He was wonderful through all of this. I know he’s disappointed but he’d never openly admit it. He doted on the kids and they took a shine to him, too. You said he’s a stuffed shirt and I agree he is a bit stiff before you get to know him, but he’s a very nice man.

Thank you for being the best friend I’ve ever had.

Love,

Lesley

1974

Jillian’s Diary

January 1, 1974

Dear Nick,

Here it is, the start of yet another year. I always believed that once I was practicing law, I’d join my father’s firm. Instead I moved back to New York and I’m volunteering with the National Organization for Women. Dad encouraged me to go ahead and do that, knowing how strongly I feel about women’s rights.

Surprisingly, I get along better with my parents these days, especially my father. I’m not sure who changed and would prefer to think we both have. He remains a staunch Republican despite the Watergate mess, although his defense of Nixon isn’t as loud or as adamant since Agnew resigned and the Watergate hearings have started. Montgomery Gordon works closely with Dad, and part of me feared a power struggle would develop between us if I returned to Pine Ridge. I still view him as stodgy, but I’ve revised my opinion of him. He represented Lesley last year when it looked like she was going to divorce Buck and she couldn’t say enough good things about him.

My decision to remain on the East Coast also has to do with the fact that I no longer think of Pine Ridge as home. I associate the town with you and that glorious summer we shared beore I left for college. The summer before you went to Vietnam. We were young, innocent and so much in love. That time, that innocence, is gone forever now.

I enjoy visiting Pine Ridge and cherish my friends, especially Lesley, but I don’t fit comfortably into that small town any more. Besides, I love living in New York.

Oh Nick, you wouldn’t believe the gas lines! People are waiting two hours and longer for gasoline. The newspaper had a picture recently of people parking their cars outside the service station the night before it opened, hoping to get in early before the pumps ran dry. There’s even talk of rationing. Supposedly it all has to do with OPEC, but almost everyone believes it has more to do with greedy oil companies than with any foreign government.

I haven’t seen Thom since we graduated from law school. He phones every once in a while, we chat for a few minutes and then I hang up feeling guilty and frustrated. I treated him badly. I know I hurt him. He still holds out hope that one day I’ll change my mind about the two of us, but I won’t.

I’ve been seeing Curtis Chandler, another attorney.

I’m not sleeping with him, although I know he’d enjoy a sexual relationship. I’d enjoy it, too, but I learned a valuable lesson with Thom. Contrary to what I’d assumed, there’s more to sex than the physical aspect. I only wanted to involve my body and not my heart; while I succeeded, it left me feeling empty. Thom held me, but it wasn’t enough. In the end, all I did was hurt someone I considered a friend. The truth is, I’m not as sophisticated as I once believed. I know lots of women who’ve had multiple sexual partners. We are, after all, part of the “free love” generation. However, I’ve decided I can live without sex. I’ll never recapture what you and I once had. Frankly, what’s the point? Sex complicates everything.

Another truth I’ve recently owned up to: I don’t have many friends. Plenty of acquaintances, but few real friends. Lesley is my closest and dearest friend and probably always will be. Our lives have taken diverging paths, but we understand, accept and love each other like sisters.

The only real disagreement we’ve had since I left for college has to do with the Catholic Church. I no longer consider myself a Catholic. In fact,I don’t really consider myself anything. For lack of a better word, I suppose I could say I’m a Christian, but one who carries a deep-seated anger at God for taking you. My attitude toward religion, God and anything spiritual is bitter. I’d feel like a hypocrite attending Mass. Lesley thinks I’ll find peace in church, but I don’t want peace, I want you.

Lesley and I’ve talked about my attitude several times. Her situation is vastly different from my own. She finds solace in attending Mass and it’s important to her, but not me. Besides, she has three children, with a fourth on the way. Yes, a fourth—she insists on using the rhythm method, although I think (despite the Church) she’s convinced Buck to get a vasectomy after this latest surprise.

I went to see your father and Jimmy over the holidays. Your dad’s old service station is a plant store now. I went there and talked to the woman who bought the building and she has plants hanging in every conceivable location. She teaches macrame classes on the side. I know that your father finds it difficult to go past the old station. He’s driving a milk truck now, but he didn’t talk about his job much. On New Year’s Day we went out to the cemetery together. That’s become tradition for us. You’ll be pleased to know that Jimmy’s working steadily and seems happy. He’s serious about a girl from his high school class.

I love you, Nick, so much. I refuse to forget you. The war is over now, the POWs have been released, and our troops are home. Saigon has fallen.

Regardless of the general sense of relief—a relief I share—I feel cheated and so very alone. Because you didn’t come back to me...

Remember how much I love you.

Jillian

***

February 28, 1974

Dear Jillian,

I’m being lazy this afternoon and just woke up from a nap. Earlier Dougie and I baked chocolate chip cookies and ate our lunch underneath the kitchen table. (That’s where his fort was and we were on the lookout for an Indian attack!) Then we snuggled together in my bed, with the blankets pulled over us (hiding from marauding Apaches). It’s astonishing what a mother will do to convince her child it’s naptime.

This pregnancy has been more difficult than all the others combined. I’m tired most of the time and listless. My ankles are swollen and the doctor has taken me completely off salt, which I love. There are only five weeks before my due date and we haven’t registered with the hospital yet. It might have something to do with the fact that we haven’t paid off the bill for when I had Dougie.

I have wonderful news. Buck attended his first Alcoholics Anonymous meeting last month and now has thirty days’ sobriety. He talks to his sponsor every day, reads from what he calls the Big Book (not the Bible, in case you’re wondering) and faithfully attends his meetings. His efforts have convinced me I made the right decision in sticking with him. He’s serious about doing whatever he can to save the marriage and keep our family intact. The kids rush to him every night when he gets home and he’s been wonderful with them. Lindy adores her daddy.

Judging by the information he brought home from his meetings, I realize my father is an alcoholic, too. Buck’s been encouraging me to attend Al-Anon meetings, for family members of alcoholics, and I will as soon as the baby’s born. As it is now, taking care of the house and the kids is all I can manage.

Just my luck that of all the men in this world, I had to choose one who has the same problem as my father. I’m positive the reason Dad liked Buck so much is because he saw a drinking buddy in his future son-in-law. Buck never told me what prompted him to seek help, but I thank God he did. I wish my dad would join him, but he refuses to believe he has a problem with alcohol.

I see changes in Buck each and every day. He’s a better father and husband since our reconciliation. Here’s another first. Buck attended Mass with the children and me last Sunday morning. He was surprised to learn that I actually take part. Remember how I used to pick at a guitar in music class when we were teenagers? Well, I’ve managed to learn a few chords, and I play and sing at the 9 a.m. Folk Mass. After church, Buck told me how proud he was of me, but I’m the one who’s proud of him. It meant the world to me that he came to Mass with us.