I realized I had been looking at the sitcom celebrity across the circle for too long, having so lost myself in what Jill was saying. But he only looked back at me with pity and appeared to know the real reason for my blank stare.
“He’s in jail now. When I was failing most of my classes in eleventh grade, I told one of my teachers, hoping she might help me figure out how I could still graduate. She reported him and everything came out. I realized I had plenty of evidence, including all the pictures and videos he had taken of the two of us having sex. So I decided to do all I could to have him put away for as long as possible. My mother never went to the trial and never spoke to me again.”
How could something like this happen? It didn’t compute in any way. My chest was throbbing. My eyes were burning. My reality was crumbling. I swore to myself I would never, ever again assume anything about anyone.
“I had my first boyfriend when I was twelve. He was fifteen and very impressed by my skills, though he never asked where I learned them. I thought I was in love. He said we’d be together forever. I believed him. And the one after him, and the one after that, all the way through to the last one, Kent. I cheated on my husband with Kent because I was certain that he was actually the one, even after all the rest. I was still in denial of the extent of my disease.”
The word disease distracted me. Is this a disease? Is there a cure?
“And then recently I had an encounter with a woman and I thought I was falling in love with her. But I’m starting to see that I don’t know what love is. How could I? I don’t. Not even with my husband. He’s a cameraman in the porn industry. He watches people who barely know each other have sex all day. He doesn’t care what I do with other people. We were swingers for a while and I loved it. But now… it all seems… different, you know? So I know my marriage is over. Maybe I’ll never be able to have a healthy relationship.”
I had been holding my breath and exhaled louder than I meant to. Jill turned to me.
“I’ve been a terrible influence on people around me, including you, especially you.” She looked out at the group. “I read the whole twelve step book today.” Looking back at me she said, “When I get to step nine, which will take a while, I’m sure, I’ll do my best to make amends to you, Beth.” I remembered when she used to call me all the time to check if I had plans to have sex with Dave yet. I didn’t blame her though. I couldn’t. It was my life. I shook my head, trying to convey that no amends would be necessary, at least not for me.
She was speaking to the crowd again. “But that’s way down the road, right? First, I’ll start by admitting my powerlessness over this addiction.”
My perception of Jill was completely transformed in a matter of three minutes. I felt like a sheltered, ignorant, privileged imbecile. My problems seemed miniscule compared to what all these people had suffered. And here they were, leaving their dignity at the door to try to heal themselves and put the pieces of their wrecked lives back together.
As we clapped for those receiving chips, I reflected on what I had heard and learned. It was not the first time I considered the possibility of being an addict myself. In my more honest moments of therapy, I confessed to fears of being an alcoholic, being addicted to food, to romance, to sexual fantasies about Dave. But Carly knew better. She read to me from her Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. I didn’t meet nearly enough of the criteria to count myself among true addicts. Still, I shared a good deal of their self-destructive tendencies. Carly explained that though I was guilty of alcohol abuse on many occasions, I did not fit the profile for alcohol dependence. And while I had a history of binge eating on occasion to avoid unpleasant feelings, my patterns suggested more typical emotional eating behavior than compulsive, uncontrollable overeating.
I had thought I’d want to leave right after the meeting, but when it was actually over, it was clear that Jill and I both wanted to stay and mingle.
I sought out a young woman appearing to be no older than sixteen, who had told us about her experiences as a recovering drug and sex addict. I had to tell her that as a mother, her story broke my heart and that she helped me see how many temptations exist for teenagers. I wanted her to know that because of what she said about how easy it was to hide everything from her parents, I would watch my kids more closely and refuse to ignore any signs of trouble.
As the buzz of noise in the room died down, I saw that only a sprinkling of other people besides Jill and me were still there. One of them was the sitcom celebrity. Only now, after all we had heard and seen in that room together, I was no longer intimidated by his fame. I walked right up to him.
“I’m so sorry about… before. It must have seemed like I was…”
He grinned with the exact same look he gives on his show when he’s about to deliver a well-scripted line.
“No worries. Happens all the time with newcomers. If you started to show up regularly, you’d be amazed how many of us you see.”
The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. Again, I felt clueless. “Yeah, I’m sure I would. Listen…”
He cut me off. “You don’t have to say it. I know. You don’t have to promise that you didn’t take pictures with your cell phone and won’t sell the story to the Enquirer.”
He laughed and I did too. My shoulders dropped.
“I’ve been coming to these meetings for a long time. It’s a risk I have to take each time. But having to start all over if I lose my five years of sobriety would be worse. So I have to come to meetings. I never really know if some new person is here to get the scoop on me. Funny thing is, no one has outed me in all this time. Must be something about the spirit of integrity you can feel here. That and all our talk about Karma. It really can be a bitch.”
“Yes, it can. I’ve learned that the hard way,” I said, wishing I had a witty scriptwriter to craft something better for me.
On the car ride home, I did my best to express my concern for Jill, given all she had revealed.
“You don’t have to feel sorry for me. I’m finally going to get the help I need. I’m going to another meeting tomorrow night. I’ll probably go every night for a while. The girl next door needs the babysitting money and I think Connor is dating someone pretty seriously, if you can believe it.”
“No. Already?”
“Already? More like still. It doesn’t matter. I’m not the least bit jealous. It could never work anyway. I know that now. But we both love the kids. Our house is big enough so there’s no rush to change anything. He stays in the guest room.”
I wondered if Rick would have stayed home if we had a bigger house with a guest room.
Jill pulled into my driveway to drop me off.
“Wanna come in for some tea or something?” I was in no hurry to spend my very first night alone in my home.
“Sorry. I kind of wanted to see my boys before they go to sleep.”
And I wanted to see my boys before they went to sleep too. But that wasn’t an option for me. Their room was empty. The entire house was empty.
I reached for the car door handle.
“Wait, Beth. I have to tell you I feel terrible about everything. I was so wrong about your situation. You should be with Rick. He’s good for you. You and I, let’s be honest… we’re a little damaged. Well, you’re a little damaged, I’m probably a lot damaged. Now I think maybe it’s because you and Rick are so different that you’re meant to be together. You balance each other out. He complements your crazy and you complement his, his…”
“His stick-up-the-assness,” I finished.
We broke into a fit of laughter, but I wanted to hear more.
“You really believe that? What about Dave?”
“I really do. I hope someday I’ll find my own Rick to keep me in check.” I wanted to call Rick so bad. I wanted to tell him about the meeting, about Jill’s revelations, about how much I missed him. But Jill had more
to say.
“I know you never thought I’d be the one to say this, and I didn’t either, but I think it would be a big mistake for you to go on that date with Dave. The first date is always magical. Hell, the first few months are, right? You could get sucked into something you’ll regret forever, something you can’t undo, no matter how hard you try.”
I hung my head down and pulled at my earlobe. She understood and let me off the hook for the moment. We hugged and said our goodbyes.
As I walked to the front door, I marveled at the fact that although I was beginning to question everything, part of me still wanted my dream date with Dave. And if I couldn’t look to Jill for encouragement, where could I possibly find it? The answer would come that same night, but from the last person on earth I would have expected.
CHAPTER 18:
MY WOMEN, MY LIFE, THROUGH RICK’S EYES
“YOU HAVE TO GO on the date with Dave. If you don’t, you’ll always wonder what it would have been like.”
I almost couldn’t believe the words were coming out of my mouth. Of course I didn’t want her to go on a date with that little bastard. But I knew she had to.
There was a long silence.
“I didn’t expect you to say that. I wanted you to talk me out of it. I wanted you to be angry and jealous,” she sobbed through the phone.
“I am angry! I am jealous! Okay? It’s true. But how can I tell you that you can’t go on a date with him when I know you want to? We’re separated now. You can do whatever the hell you want. ”
“Rick. Shhh. The kids… where are they?”
“They can’t hear me. They’re asleep on the couch bed downstairs. After we all visited with my mom, we rode bikes and ran around the block a few times. They were wiped out.”
Beth was quiet again for a while. I had no idea what to say.
“How’s your mom?” she asked, and I was glad for the change of subject, though I knew we’d have to come back to the previous one. I updated her on what the doctors were saying, which was neither clear nor conclusive at that point. She asked questions that I couldn’t answer and communicated just the right amount of worry, sympathy, and offers of help.
“You really want me to go out with him?” she said in a low whisper. I pictured her in the light blue pajama set with the stars and moons on it.
“No, I don’t. But I think you need to do it. Maybe it’s something we both need to do while we’re separated.” I hadn’t meant to bring that up yet and now I was in another no-win situation with her.
“Both of us? Do you… do you already have someone in mind?” After everything she’d put me through, I had to admit to myself that it felt good to remind her that I had other options available too.
“Yes, I do.” It came out too quick and with too much confidence. She started to cry again.
“Beth, this is all normal for this stage. I’ve only talked to her a few times on the phone. It’s no big deal. We’ve known each other since high school. She was good friends with Kelly and she loves my mom, so she’s been by to see her a few times. We had a crush on each other a long time ago, but, well, she’s a few years younger so…”
She started to cry so hard it sounded like she could barely breathe. I didn’t know what I said that set her off.
“Oh my God! Your sister is trying to replace me with her friend. Ohhhhh.” Long sobs and loud nose blowing followed.
“She never liked me. I knew she never liked me. She didn’t think I was good enough for you when we got married.” Oh no, here we go again with this.
“This has nothing to do with Kelly. She didn’t set it up. I ran into Wendy at the market here. Kelly loves you. Please don’t make this into something it’s not.” Her heaving gasps for air scared me. “Are you okay? Please take some deep breaths.” She didn’t.
“Wendy? Wendy? That one you danced with at Kelly’s wedding? The sexy blonde who couldn’t take her eyes off you that whole God-awful night?”
Fuck my shitty memory about things like this. “Uhhh, yeah. Right. I forgot you met her at the wedding.”
“Met her? She went on and on about how you were Mr. Popular in high school but wouldn’t give her the time of day. I wanted to slap her perfect face, the nerve, to be so obvious about flirting with a married man.”
“Beth! Stop it! You’re exaggerating. And she’s not… she’s not like that anymore. That was years ago. Since then, she got married and divorced and she’s having a rough time. We can relate to each other because, well, her husband is more like you. He couldn’t just be happy with what they had, he was always looking for something better.”
For a moment, I didn’t hear any crying and it seemed her fight was back.
“Does she have kids?”
“No.”
“Hmmm. So she could never really understand how much Sam and Jack mean to you.”
Don’t say it, don’t say it, I told myself. But Beth’s impulsiveness had rubbed off on me over the years. The words came out anyway.
“Right. Just like Dave.”
And she was sobbing again. I asked for it, I thought. I’d had my chance to hold the higher ground. I decided to try to make up for it a little and I knew I had the power to turn things around.
“No one will ever understand how much we love Sam and Jack. They will always be everything to us. That will never change.”
“But I don’t think…”
I cut her off then. I was too tired. I had to get up early to make breakfast for my mother and the boys, then get Sam to school by eight o’clock and spend some time with Jack at the park before getting him to preschool at eleven. Then I had to race back to get my mom to various appointments for the rest of the day. I didn’t want to talk to Beth anymore. I missed her and I still loved her, but whatever it was she wanted from me when she called to tell me that the kid she cheated on me with was going to ask her on a date, was something I clearly could not provide.
“Here’s what I think we should do. Dave is going to ask you on a date in two months. I’ll be busy with work and helping my mom until then anyway, so I won’t make any plans to see Wendy. We may just chat a little, here and there. When the time comes, if you decide to go on the date with Dave, I’ll ask Wendy out for the same night. You and I can stay connected and talk about what’s going on with us before that time, but we’ll work on ourselves only, putting any talk of our relationship on hold. We’re supposed to be on a break after all, right? Seeing other people isn’t against the rules when you’re separated, so you don’t have to feel bad about it.”
“And what if I don’t go on a date with Dave?”
“We can cross that bridge if and when we come to it.”
“And what if we do both go on our dates? What happens after that?”
“We make plans to meet for coffee the very next morning, alone. We tell each other everything about our dates. Complete honesty. No secrets. And we decide where to go from there.”
She huffed. “Dave said we wouldn’t do anything more than kiss at the end of our date.”
“He’s an idiot.”
“Rick!”
“Okay, sorry. I’m never going to like the guy, you know that, right?”
“Even if…”
“Even if. But we don’t need to talk about that now. You can do whatever you want to do. You’re much more spontaneous than I am. You know how I think things through. I doubt I’d do anything with Wendy unless I was serious about asking her out again. She’s a family friend, for God’s sake.”
“Um hmm,” she said with what sounded like appreciation. “I should have thought of that. Sometimes I wish I could be more like you. Do you know what a good guy you are?”
“Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. We’re just… well, you were the one who said it when you were so drunk that night, and I didn’t want to hear it, but you were right. We’re so, so diffe
rent.”
“They say opposites attract and complement each other, right?” she asked, fishing.
“Some say that, yeah,” I responded.
“Okay, so as always,” she said, “you’ve come up with a practical plan for us. We’ll go on as we have been for two more months then, right? We’re on a break from our marriage, but working on ourselves and staying in touch about our lives?”
“Yes, unless you have a better idea.” I was genuinely open to one.
“I never have a better idea. You always have the best idea.”
I thought that might be the end of our conversation, but in her typical Beth way, she asked just the right questions to get me talking. Before I knew it, I had droned on endlessly about my frustrations at work, my worries about my mom’s illness, my thoughts about how the kids were handling our separation, and pretty much everything else that had been on my mind. It felt good to vent and no one else could understand it all the way she could. It was after one in the morning when we hung up.
* * *
The blaring alarm clock assaulted my ears, and I dragged myself out of bed to start getting breakfast ready for the boys and clean up a little. My mother’s lung cancer had weakened her to the point where she only got out of bed to use the restroom. So I tried to keep things picked up, do the shopping, run errands. It wasn’t too much work when it was just the two of us and Kelly came by to help when she could. But having the boys over the night before left the place looking like a train wreck. I put away toys, wiped down surfaces, and picked crumbs out of the thick carpet. Just as I started to pull the ingredients out of the refrigerator to make pancakes for the boys, Sam walked in.
“I was just about to wake you up. Did you sleep okay?”
He yawned and wiped white sticky goo out of the corners of his eyes.
“Not really. That mattress isn’t very comfy. And Jack was kicking me all night.”
“We’ll have to figure out a better set up for next time.”
Is This What I Want? Page 16