by Jane Green
“You know I can’t bring you up the whole bottle,” says Meredith, aware of the risk of her mother deciding to swallow them all in one fell swoop when no one is looking. “How many do you need?”
“Four would be good. I’ll take two now and save two for later.”
“Okay,” Meredith agrees, going downstairs to get the pills. She comes back and walks into the room, setting everything on the nightstand as her mother watches her.
“Have you lost weight?” her mother says suddenly, looking Meredith up and down.
Meredith has noticed, as it happens, that the prewedding weight she recently gained seems to be melting away. She doesn’t know how much, exactly, but she hasn’t had an appetite, and this morning when she pulled on the new pants, they were looser and baggier than yesterday.
Derek saw her in the pants, and the beaded tunic, and frowned. “That’s a bit bohemian, isn’t it?” he said, disapproval written all over his face.
“Is it? I love this outfit,” she said, and he sniffed and looked away, saying nothing more.
She had felt beautiful this morning, until Derek looked her up and down. Now, even though she has lost weight, her mother’s words rile her, as they have always done, making her feel that her mother’s love for her is conditional upon her being thin, being pretty, being good enough.
“I don’t know,” lies Meredith, trying not to let her discomfort be heard.
“You’re perfect the way you are,” says her mother, and when Meredith looks at her in surprise, her mother is smiling, as if she means it.
“So beautiful,” says her mother, awkwardly patting the bed with the one hand that still, vaguely, works, grimacing slightly as she does so.
“Are you in pain?” asks Meredith, and her mother nods. “Do you want to take a painkiller now?”
“Not yet. Just sit with me for a bit. Your fiancé, is he here?”
Meredith nods.
“Yes. I thought I heard his distinctive voice this morning. Remind me, when is the wedding?”
“Early October.”
“I know this is a sensitive subject, my darling, but I don’t have much time. You can’t storm out when I say this to you.”
“Okay,” Meredith says, numb at hearing her mother saying she doesn’t have much time. Surely they can change her mind, can’t they?
“Think very hard about the person you are marrying. It is not something to be taken lightly. I only know this because I was a horrible wife, and I have had many years to think about marriage, and what I did wrong, and what makes a good marriage. I wish I had stayed with your father. He was a very good man, and very good to me. He was loving and supportive, and wanted me to find success in whatever field I chose. What he didn’t do was control me, or try to mold me into a little wife, some old-fashioned, muted version of who I was. I saw many men do that to many women I knew. They would choose these vibrant, talented, beautiful women, and suck the life and passion and beauty out of them by bullying them into submission. I love you, Meredith, and you are so much more than you have ever allowed yourself to be. You don’t need a man to be happy, and you don’t need a man who won’t allow you to be the real Meredith. Remember your art?”
Meredith nods, swallowing the lump in her throat.
“You were so talented,” her mother says, smiling. “It is such a pity you didn’t pursue that. Don’t marry someone because you think you need a partner. And don’t marry someone who tries to mold you into what he wants his wife to be. You’re better than that. Marry, if you do at all, only someone who loves you just the way you are. Because you are precious. There. I’ve said my piece. Are you still talking to me?”
Meredith nods, stunned into silence.
“You are so beautiful, Meri. I know I have spent a lifetime criticizing you, making comments about your weight, and I am so sorry. I didn’t know any better. I was corrupted by Hollywood, and convinced that being slim and beautiful was the key to happiness. I just wanted you to be happy. I realized far too late how irrelevant it is. You’re beautiful, Meredith, exactly as you are.”
Meredith stares at her, not believing her.
“You don’t believe me.” Her mother sighs. “I should have said this years ago. Not that it makes any difference what I think. But you are so special, too special to end up with a man who isn’t your equal. Derek may be handsome, but that’s really all he has going for him. You, on the other hand, are such a creative, clever, sweet girl. I always saw you as a painter, or a potter, some kind of artist. Remember those beautiful pots you threw on the wheel at school? You have such an open, kind heart. You were always my favorite,” she says, as Meredith’s heart threatens to burst.
She leans her head down on her mother’s chest as her mother croons into her hair. “My favorite,” she murmurs. “Don’t tell your sisters.”
• • •
Downstairs, Meredith finds Lizzy and Nell pulling into the driveway; when they come inside, Nell is carrying a brown paper bag filled with croissants.
“Greta the magnificent,” explains Lizzy. “She’s on a baking binge. I don’t know. Maybe she’s in love or something.” She casts a sideways glance at Nell, who studiously avoids looking at her, even as she suppresses a small smile.
“You look nice.” Lizzy reaches over and fingers the sleeve of Meredith’s tunic. “I love that batik. Really nice, Meri. These flowy boho clothes suit you.”
Meredith smiles. “Thank you.”
“How’s Mom?”
“Amazing,” says Meredith. “She’s . . . amazing.”
“Like, up-and-walking amazing or not-being-a-bitch amazing?” says Lizzy, pausing, wondering if this all might have been a great act after all.
“No, don’t be silly. Neither. Like . . . understanding, kind, and loving. She is completely different.”
“What? How? She was mean as hell to me. What did she talk to you about?”
Meredith sighs deeply. “About me. About who she thought I would become when I was a child. And about marriage and what she wanted for me.”
“I guess she was nicer to you than she was with me.” Lizzy rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t want Derek for you, does she?”
Meredith shrugs. “I knew she didn’t, but she was able to express why. She basically said she thinks he’s controlling, that he’s trying to squeeze me into some image he has of what his wife should be, and that I would completely lose myself if I married him. I don’t know, she didn’t use those words exactly, but that’s essentially what she was saying.” Meredith casts a nervous glance out the window, looking for Derek.
“Yeah? And?”
Nell walks over. “And is that news to you?”
“No. I just . . .” Meredith’s shoulders slump as she sinks onto a kitchen chair. “It has been like playing a role. I was so flattered that a partner in my firm, someone like Derek, who’s handsome, who everyone loves, even noticed me, I found myself drawn into this relationship and trying so hard to be someone I’m not.”
“Who loves Derek?” says Lizzy in horror. “I don’t love Derek. I think he’s an unctuous little man.”
“People at work love him.”
“Oh. Accountants on his payroll. Right. So you’ve been trying to be the perfect wife while the real Meredith, the Meredith who is creative and fun, who loves dressing in bohemian”—she peers closer, asks, “Calypso?” and Meredith nods—“Calypso outfits is struggling to be seen, except she’s worried Derek wouldn’t like her.”
“Yes,” says Meredith. “Exactly.”
Lizzy frowns. “Is it relevant that Billy has a crush on you?”
“He doesn’t!” protests Meredith. Weakly. “I don’t think he does.”
“He does,” says Lizzy, “although whether or not anything happens between you is kind of irrelevant. The point is that men like Billy, clever, fun, handsome, nonpompous men like Billy, like
you. They are attracted to you. If you could do something about your low self-esteem, you’d find a world of possibility out there. That low self-esteem, by the way, that caused you to say yes rather than pee yourself laughing when Derek first asked you out on a date. Derek is not the best you can get. Oh, my God. If that were true, why not just kill yourself now?”
“Lizzy!” Nell says, casting her eyes up to the ceiling where their mother lies.
“Sorry for the inappropriate turn of phrase. But there are hundreds of men like Billy who would be so lucky, so ridiculously, unbelievably lucky to have you. You have no idea. Derek must wake up every day thinking he’s hit the jackpot, because he doesn’t deserve you. You are worth a hundred Dereks.”
Meredith stares at her sister. “Do you really mean that?”
“Yes,” says Lizzy, turning to look at Nell.
“She does,” says Nell. “And she’s right.”
“Speak of the devil,” says Lizzy, turning to look out the window as their mother’s Lexus pulls into the driveway, driven by Derek.
“I have no idea how to do this,” whispers Meredith.
“Dump his sorry ass,” says Lizzy, but Nell intervenes.
“You can do it kindly,” says Nell.
All three of them watch as Derek gathers the shopping bags from the backseat of the car.
“You can just simply say your feelings have changed,” Nell tells her. “You don’t have to be cruel.”
“Even though it’s kind of more fun to be cruel,” says Lizzy, thinking instantly of Sean. “Fucking sleaze,” she says.
Meredith’s head whips around, a frown on her face. “What?”
“Not Derek. I was thinking about someone else. Sorry.”
“Hello, darling,” Derek says as he walks into the kitchen, going up to Meredith and kissing her on the top of her head, as Lizzy makes a face at Nell across the room.
“Derek,” Meredith says quietly, “we need to talk.”
• • •
They go to the back porch and down the steps into the yard, Meredith’s heart pounding with what she’s about to say. But she is so full of what her mother said, what her sisters said. And unlike last time, when she stormed out of the Four Seasons restaurant vowing never to speak to them again, this time she felt their love. They were telling the truth, and they were doing it from a place of love.
Derek is frowning at her. “What’s the matter?” He attempts to open her arms, as if hugging her will fix whatever she is about to say, but Meredith takes a step back.
“Derek, I have had a few days by myself, and I’ve come to realize a number of things that aren’t working for me.” She wants to kick herself. These aren’t the words she wants to use. “I know we are supposed to be getting married in three months, but I am having second thoughts.”
The color drains from Derek’s face.
“I think we need to take a break,” she says, wincing at causing someone else pain, instantly trying to make the pain less. “Just while I figure things out.”
“Do you mean postpone the wedding?” Derek is confused. “For how long?”
“I don’t really mean postpone,” Meredith says, after a pause. “I don’t think I want to get married.”
Derek smiles with relief. “Oh! This is just last-minute wedding nerves, and it’s completely normal. Darling, it would be more strange if you didn’t feel like this. Trust me. You will be absolutely fine. Now come here.” This time he opens his arms, but Meredith just stares at him, unmoving.
“Okay,” she says, taking a step away from him, her decision to be kind, her nerves, her not wanting to hurt him, now squashed by irritation. “You’re not listening. You never listen to me. You always tell me how to feel and how to think, and I am not allowed to have any voice. You need to listen to me now.” She slows down, speaking slowly and clearly. “I don’t want to get married. I don’t want to marry you. I don’t want to continue our relationship. I didn’t ask you to come here, and now I want you to leave.”
“You are joking,” says Derek, staring at her, unable to believe what he is hearing.
“Do I look like I’m joking?” says Meredith, a thousand other sentences going through her head, none of which must be said out loud.
I don’t want to ever have sex with you again, she thinks. I don’t want to sit across the table from you in a restaurant as you order for me. I don’t want to feel your heavy arm reaching over to me in bed. I don’t want to kiss you, or smell you, or taste you. I never want to feel your skin on mine again.
“What about our wedding? What about the hundreds of clients? What am I supposed to tell them? This is not acceptable,” he sputters.
“I don’t care what you tell them,” says Meredith. “Tell them I’m having a midlife crisis if you want. I will be giving the company my written notice today,” she says, although she is surprised to hear those words emerging. But as soon as they are said out loud, she feels a weight lifting. “I am sorry, Derek, but you and I are not meant to be together. We never were. And it is my fault that I couldn’t see it earlier.”
Derek hisses something under his breath, muttering words Meredith has no wish to hear. He spins on his heel and stomps toward the house, tripping on the first step up to the porch, cursing out loud before turning back to her.
“I’m the best thing that will ever happen to you,” he says. “You will never find anyone to look after you like I would have done. I hope you find what you’re looking for, even though it’s unlikely, isn’t it, at your age.” Seemingly satisfied at having gotten a final dig in, he lurches up the porch and into the house.
A half hour later, he is gone. Meredith tried to say good-bye, to end things somehow on terms if not good, at least passable, but he wouldn’t look at her, wouldn’t speak to her. He just marched toward the car waiting for him at the end of the driveway, his jaw clenched, threw his bag in the backseat, climbed in behind it, and rode off.
Meredith, Lizzy, and Nell all watched from the dining room window, Lizzy snaking an arm around Meredith’s waist and leaning her head on her shoulder.
“Is he actually gone?” whispers Meredith, when they can no longer hear the car.
“He is,” says Nell as Meredith turns to her, disbelief and relief in her eyes. Nell gives her a high five, then spontaneously pulls her in for a brief hug. “Well done,” she says. “That must have been hard for you.”
Meredith shakes her head. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe I did it.” She turns to Lizzy. “Can you believe I did it?”
Lizzy whoops and grabs Meredith, waltzing her around the dining room, singing, “Fuck, yeah, Meri! You finally stood up for yourself!”
Meredith laughs, as she allows Lizzy to waltz her into the kitchen; there Lizzy stops and stands in front of her. “Here’s the deal, Meredith. Life is whatever you choose to make it. You never have to let anyone control you, nor give up your power in order to make someone happy. The only way any of us finds happiness is to figure out what it is that we need, and go after it. You hated your fiancé and now—”
“I didn’t hate him,” grumbles Meredith.
“Yeah, you did. That’s okay. He’s hateable. And now he’s gone. You hate your job. Oh, come on, don’t even. You hate your job and you just told a partner you’re handing in your written notice. The world is your oyster, Meredith. Now you just have to figure out what you want to do. How do you feel? Be honest. How does it feel to walk away from two giant parts of your life that were making you miserable?”
“Honestly?” Meredith grins. “As you would say, it feels fanfuckingtastic.”
“I know.” Lizzy looks at her watch. “I’d better text James. He’s coming out to the farm, but I’ll tell him to come here. Is Mom up?”
“She was watching that HGTV show she likes,” Nell calls from the other room. “I’ll go up and check on her.”
“Okay.” Meredith looks out the window to see Billy pulling up in his car. “I’m going to go for a walk. I’ll see if Billy wants to come.”
forty-three
Ronni Sunshine is propped up against the pillows, more alert than Nell has seen her these last few times. She turns her head from the TV and smiles as Nell walks in.
“I’m just checking up on you,” says Nell. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“Where is everyone?”
“Downstairs. Lizzy’s on the phone and Meredith just went for a walk with Billy.”
“Billy? What about Derek?”
“Ah.” Nell sits on the chair next to her mother’s bed. “Meredith just did the unthinkable. She ended her engagement.”
A wide smile spreads on Ronni’s face. “Thank God,” she says. “Thank heavens she saw the light. Is he gone?” Nell nods. “What a dreadful, pompous man he is.”
“She is leaving her job as well. Who knows, maybe she’ll move back home. Maybe . . .” Nell pauses as an idea strikes. “Maybe Meredith can move in here and look after you? That would be a reason to keep going, wouldn’t it, Mom? You haven’t spent proper time with her in years, and if she were back here, she could be with you while we research treatments.”
Ronni smiles, choosing not to respond. “Where is Lily?” she asks.
“We decided to give her a couple of days off,” Nell says. “The poor woman is exhausted. We would have told you earlier, but you were asleep. Why are you looking so sad?”
“I won’t see her.” Her mother sighs.
“Mom,” Nell says quietly, “it’s not going to happen, you know that, right? We aren’t going to help you take your own life. None of us are ready for that, and we don’t believe you’re ready. We need more time.”
Her mother winces.
“What’s the matter? Is it the spasms? Do you need painkillers?”
“Yes, please, darling,” Ronni says. “Can you bring me four?”