by Gerri Hill
Shawn twisted off the top and handed the beer to Susan, then relaxed again in the chair. She could tell by the way Susan held the bottle that this was a new experience for her and Shawn wondered again what she was doing at this woman’s house. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Susan tip the bottle and drink. She was surprised by the sound of pleasure that came from her.
“Oh, God, that’s good,” Susan said. “No wonder men drink it all the time.”
Shawn laughed. “You know, they allow women to buy it now.”
Susan grinned, too. “How long have you been coming out here?”
“Only the last couple of years, to this area anyway. I camp often in the summer. When a place gets too crowded, I’ll search for someplace new.”
Susan waited for the question she knew would be next.
“What about you? You don’t look the outdoorsy type, really,” Shawn said.
“No. I don’t suppose I do,” Susan agreed. “I don’t know what type I am,” she continued and the words seem to fall from her. “I used to be a mother, but Lisa grew up and is now in college.” She paused only briefly before continuing. “And I used to be a wife, but David apparently likes twenty-year-old blondes now.”
The breeze brought the sounds of birds as they foraged for food before dusk and the sweet smell of the forest, and they both looked above them as a squirrel chewed a pine cone and dropped bits around their chairs.
“I’m sorry,” Susan finally said. “That just . . . came out.”
“Recent?” Shawn asked.
Susan nodded. “That’s why I’m up here.” She tried to smile. “I couldn’t stay there and this seemed the logical place to come to . . . to sort things out.”
Shawn leaned forward and frowned. “You haven’t talked this out with anyone? With him?”
“No. I stopped by Lisa’s dorm and told her, that’s all.”
“How long ago?” Shawn asked.
“Two weeks yesterday,” Susan said.
Shawn leaned back, thinking it was none of her business, but since when had that stopped her? “Listen, it’s not any of my business, but I don’t think it’s very healthy to keep something like that bottled up. I mean, you probably need to discuss this with someone . . . a family member, if not a professional.”
Susan laughed bitterly. How dare this . . . woman . . . offer her advice?
“And you’re an expert on failed marriages?” Susan’s hands waved to make her point. “Forgive me, but I was stereotyping, and I doubt this has ever happened to you,” she said quickly.
Shawn tried not to be offended by Susan’s remark. “Your stereotype was correct, but that doesn’t mean I’m unfamiliar with failed relationships. I see it every day,” she said. “At the Fresno Women’s Center.”
“You work there? The shelter?”
“Women’s shelter is such a negative term. It’s much more than a shelter, but it is that. It’s an educational center, most of all.”
“Are you a counselor?” Susan asked.
“Well, sort of, I guess. I’m not actually on the payroll. I volunteer there. I help out wherever is needed; the crisis line, finding jobs, finding housing, and yes, counseling. I try, at least,” she said.
“You think I need counseling?”
“This isn’t any of my business, really,” Shawn said. “I’m sorry I said anything,” she apologized.
“I’m asking for your opinion,” Susan said.
Shawn leaned back and crossed her legs. “It appears you’re running away, maybe hiding up here,” she said gently. “It’s not healthy. It won’t make the problem go away. It’s just going to escalate.”
Susan cleared her throat and looked away. “My husband and I haven’t had sex in over a year,” she said quietly. “And do you know when it occurred to me that we hadn’t had sex? Not until a couple of days ago,” she continued. “I hadn’t even missed it.” She turned to Shawn. “Isn’t that strange?”
Shawn didn’t say anything, and Susan continued.
“I was supposed to be in San Francisco until late. I had gone shopping with Mother and Ruth, but we came back early. I found them in our bed,” she said quietly. She tapped her chest. “My bed. And I couldn’t believe my eyes. They were . . .” She took a deep breath, then made herself continue. “Anyway, do you know what he said to me?”
Shawn shook her head.
“ ‘This isn’t what it looks like.’ ” She tried to mimic his shocked tone, but her voice cracked. Susan tipped the bottle and drained the beer, then laughed lightly. “I told him it looked like he was fucking a teenager. And this girl took her hand off of her mouth long enough to tell me that she was twenty now.” Susan set the empty bottle on the deck and sighed. “That’s how I found out my husband was having an affair.”
Shawn started to speak but Susan stopped her.
“Please don’t say you’re sorry,” Susan said. “I couldn’t bear it,” she whispered.
“Okay.” Shawn fished out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and shoved one between her lips. “How long have you been married?” She watched Susan watching her as she struck the match and she inhaled once before offering the cigarette to Susan.
Susan stared at the cigarette for a moment, then reached for it. What the hell? She had smoked before, when she had first gotten married, but Dave had put a stop to that. She inhaled and the smoke seared her lungs, but she smiled.
“Twenty years,” she said as she blew smoke through her lips.
“Damn long time,” Shawn murmured.
“Yes. A very long time,” Susan nodded. She rolled her head slowly toward Shawn. “Got any more beer?”
“Sure.” Shawn got up but, Susan stopped her.
“I’m sorry. I’m being a terrible hostess.” Susan stood, too. “I haven’t offered you anything to drink and you brought your own beer and now I’m asking for one . . .”
Shawn laughed, and eased Susan back into her chair. “Relax, will you?”
Shawn disappeared again around the corner and Susan got up to check on the charcoal. It was nearly ready, so she went to fetch their steaks. She was just putting the second one on when Shawn came back with fresh beer.
They both settled back into their chairs, stared quietly out into the now darkening forest, and sipped their beer.
“You don’t smoke, do you?” Shawn finally asked.
“No.” Susan laughed. “I don’t drink beer, either,” she said as she tipped the cold bottle to her lips.
“So, you’ve been up here two weeks, have you decided anything?”
“I’ve decided that I don’t miss my former life,” Susan said after only a moment’s hesitation. “I mean, I don’t miss David in the least, but that could just be because I’m still so angry. I was hurt at first, of course. Betrayed . . . who wouldn’t be? But now I’m just angry, I think.” Susan gripped the bottle tighter, but continued. “It’s funny that it took something like this to make me realize how unhappy I’ve been.” Susan turned to Shawn, about to apologize for the conversation, but Shawn stopped her.
“I’m a good listener,” Shawn offered.
Susan smiled, silently thanking her. She needed this, she realized. Two weeks of keeping these thoughts bottled up inside of her had taken its toll and Susan was thankful for this stranger’s company tonight.
Susan cleared her throat before speaking. “I think that I have just been going through the motions of marriage for twenty years. I got pregnant immediately. I was a new wife and then a mother and that was that,” she said. “That was all. I took care of the house, took care of Lisa, and in my spare time, hung out at the country club with the other wives, including Ruth—she’s my sister—and Mother,” Susan said. She leaned forward now, arms resting casually on her thighs. “I mean, that was all I knew so it seemed perfectly normal to me,” she said. “I just . . . never evolved into anything,” she admitted quietly. “I was a wife and mother.”
“A lot of people are,” Shawn said. “There’s nothing wrong with that
.”
“Oh, I know,” Susan said. “It’s just that . . . there should be more,” she whispered. “I’m thirty-nine years old and feel that life has just passed me by, and I don’t have a whole lot to show for it. I mean, I have a wonderful daughter, extremely bright, but I’m talking about me,” she said, clutching her fist and pressing it to her breast. “I gave up my youth, I gave up college to become a wife. And then suddenly I was a mother and that was enough for eighteen years. But when Lisa left home and started college, suddenly I wasn’t a mother anymore. I was just a wife. And that’s when I realized that nineteen years had gone by and David and I were suddenly thrown together again, alone and practically strangers and we didn’t know how to handle it. Or I didn’t,” she clarified.
“Did you have a good marriage?” Shawn asked.
Susan shrugged. “It wasn’t a bad marriage,” she said. “We didn’t fight, if that’s what you mean. And I never wanted for anything. There just wasn’t much passion involved. And I don’t think David and I were really partners and friends in our marriage. I was the wife who took care of the house and Lisa and he handled everything else,” she finished sadly.
Shawn stood to tend to the steaks and Susan didn’t stop her. She was very near tears, and she took the time to gather herself. She had no business crying in front of this stranger.
“I guess you hadn’t suspected an affair,” Shawn said from behind her.
Susan shook her head. “I should have, I suppose. I think back now . . . his style of dress changed, business dinners where there used to be none, late hours. And of course, our own sex life had dwindled to nothing.” She turned away when Shawn sat down again. “I think I was secretly thankful that he wasn’t wanting sex.” She looked back at Shawn. “Isn’t that awful?”
“No. But then, I’ve never been married. I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like.”
“Surely you’ve had some kind of long-term relationship,” Susan said. “You’re what? Early thirties?”
“Thirty-three and no, there’s been none,” she said.
Susan watched her for a moment then looked away. “I won’t pry.”
“What does your daughter say about it all?” Shawn asked, dismissing Susan’s comment.
“She wasn’t surprised,” Susan said, “which surprised the hell out of me. Lisa told me that I shouldn’t blame myself, that it wasn’t my fault. That was probably the best thing that she could have said.”
“She’s right, you know. He can blame you and he may. But still, we all make our own decisions and rationalize them however we feel we need to. If he needs to lay blame for the decision he made, you’re the logical choice,” Shawn said. “I know you’ve heard this before: It takes two to make a relationship work, but it just takes one to destroy it when one becomes disinterested.”
Susan frowned and nodded. “But I sometimes think that I was the one who became disinterested,” she said quietly. When Shawn started to speak, Susan stopped her. “Let’s eat,” she said. “The food is not nearly enough to pay you for the therapy session I seem to be getting.”
“I’m sorry,” Shawn said.
“No, don’t,” Susan said, rising. “You were right. I needed to talk. I’m just sorry that it’s turned into this,” she said, waving her hands, “when all I intended was a casual dinner.”
“I don’t mind,” Shawn assured her. “And I’ve seen enough women hide their feelings to know that it is not at all healthy.”
Shawn held the plate while Susan lifted the steaks from the grill. Susan met Shawn’s eyes and smiled.
“Ruth would shit a brick if she knew the invited guest was helping with dinner.”
“Everything proper and by the book?”
“Very,” Susan nodded. “Country club rules can be a little rigid, you know.”
Shawn laughed. “I wouldn’t know.” She stopped Alex at the kitchen door when he would have followed them inside.
“I told you he was invited, too,” Susan said.
“He’ll beg,” Shawn warned as Susan opened the door again to let him in.
“And then I’ll give him part of my steak,” she said.
They made their plates buffet style and Susan went back for the wine. “If you ever meet Ruth or Mother, don’t you dare tell them what a terrible hostess I was tonight.”
Shawn grinned. “I’m not used to having a hostess.” Shawn cut into her steak, then stopped. “Are you close to them?”
“Ruth and Mother?”
Shawn nodded and groaned as she took her first bite of steak. “Good,” she murmured.
“We pretend to be close,” Susan said, cutting into her own steak. “Ruth is ten years older than I am, so we don’t have a lot in common.” She paused with the fork to her mouth. “Actually, I guess we do have a lot in common. We both live in the same community, same friends, same country club. Same mother.” Then she grinned. “Ruth has two perfect children. Perfect angels and perfectly boring,” she said. “And I have Lisa.”
“And she’s what?”
“A free spirit,” Susan said. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way. Lisa has a mind of her own and I’m not afraid to let her use it.”
“She’s just now in college?” Shawn asked. She reached for the wine, chasing down the steak.
“Second year. She’ll be twenty,” Susan said. “And she has no idea what she wants to be, but I’m just thankful she’s in school.” Susan drank her own wine and nodded when Shawn went to refill it. “I don’t want her to make the same mistake I did and marry right away and not finish school.”
“Why did you get married? Were you pregnant?” Shawn asked.
Susan stared, amazed at her directness. For perfect strangers, they were sharing quite a bit. Well, Susan was sharing. Shawn had divulged nothing about her own life.
When she didn’t answer, Shawn looked up with a mouthful of potato and grinned.
“What? Too personal?”
“I got pregnant on our honeymoon, I suppose.” Susan trimmed off a piece of her steak and offered it to Alex, whom Shawn had been patiently ignoring. Susan dismissed Shawn’s objection with a wave of her hand and then offered him a piece of bread.
“You’ve done it now,” Shawn warned. “He’ll never leave you alone.” To prove her point, he laid one large paw on Susan’s thigh and whined. Their eyes met and Susan’s dared Shawn to speak. She didn’t.
Susan decided she would not be satisfied until Shawn shared something about her life, even if it meant prying a little. After another piece of bread to Alex, she said casually, “You said you volunteer at the women’s center. What do you do . . . you know, for a living?”
Shawn tilted her head slightly and thought about ignoring her question, but Susan must feel nearly stripped of her layers of protection at all she’d revealed tonight. She lifted one corner of her mouth in a smile.
“I don’t do anything, really,” she said.
Susan laughed. “You’re independently wealthy, huh?”
Shawn shrugged. “Pretty much.”
Susan stared. “I was joking.”
Shawn shrugged again. She always had a difficult time with this question and it was why she normally avoided it. She met Susan’s eyes and they told her that she was not getting off without an explanation. She lifted an eyebrow, Susan raised both of hers, and they both grinned and reached for their wine.
“My father left me a very profitable business when he died,” Shawn said. “Then my mother left me a rather large sum when she died.”
“I’m sorry,” Susan said automatically.
“No. It was a long time ago,” Shawn said, dismissing her apology. “They had divorced when I was twelve, so I wasn’t really close to my father.”
“But to lose your mother, too,” Susan said, shaking her head. “Was it recently?”
Shawn shook her head, this conversation fast approaching the Off Limits sign. “It was just a couple of years after him,” she said quietly. “I was nineteen.”
; Susan watched her, then decided that she had nosed enough. The subject was still obviously painful for Shawn.
“I’m sorry, Shawn. I didn’t mean to pry,” she said.
Shawn met her eyes for a moment and knew in an instant that if she ever wanted to talk to someone about it, Susan would be the one. But after five years of therapy, she felt like she had talked the subject to death. It wasn’t as if it was still a part of her.
“I don’t think about it much anymore,” Shawn said. “At least, I try not to.”
“I’m sorry,” Susan said immediately.
“No, don’t.” Shawn lightly rested her palm on Susan’s arm in reassurance. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just . . . a very long story,” she finally said. “Maybe I’ll share it with you sometime.” Then she smiled, trying to lighten their mood. “If I ever run into you again, that is.”
Susan smiled, too. “I’ve enjoyed your company.”
“Well, after two weeks, anyone’s would have done,” Shawn teased.
Susan laughed. “Now I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.”
Shawn insisted on helping with the dishes, then, by silent consent, they again sat on the deck and finished the wine. Shawn lit two cigarettes and handed one to Susan, who took it without thinking. They sat together quietly and Susan thought that this must be one of those comfortable silences that she had heard about and never experienced. She glanced over at Shawn, who was holding her wineglass and cigarette in one hand and rubbing Alex’s ear with the other. When Shawn looked up, Susan smiled and looked away again, content for the first time in two weeks.
“I better go,” Shawn said finally.
Susan nodded, not wanting her to go, but knowing that she would.
“Thanks again for the meal,” Shawn said.
They stood facing each other for a moment, then broke out into identical smiles. Susan followed Shawn around the cabin to her truck and petted Alex on his back before he hopped in the front.
“Thank you for . . . listening to me talk,” Susan said.
Shawn nodded. “Dinner was well worth the price,” she said with a grin.