The Far End of Happy

by Kathryn Craft

  “I suspect there’s going to be no way to take the edge off what I’m feeling right now anyway.” She tossed it into the circle. Its steel top clunked with a hollow sound as it hit the ring.

  Ronnie said, “Was this just for…today?”

  Beverly seemed poised to answer if Janet wouldn’t. Janet said, “Since Jerry’s death.”

  “There’s no time limit on mourning,” Beverly said. “It could take five weeks, five months, five years—”

  “Or in your case, thirty-five,” Janet said. “But this wasn’t mourning, really. It was regret. Forty-seven years of it.”

  Forty-seven? “You don’t regret having Jeff, do you?” Ronnie said.

  “No, I regret the quality of my marriage. But what could I ever say? Jerry was a local hero. If I walked into a room without him, someone would ask me where he was. Everyone benefitted from the love he lavished on the community. But he had little left to bring home at night.”

  “You’re talking crazy. This day has been too hard on you,” Beverly said. “You were the perfect family. You were the three J’s.”

  “See, even my best friend won’t believe me.” A tear rolled down Janet’s cheek. “After a while, you wonder if what you feel even matters. You want to just float away.”

  “You should have told me.” Beverly handed Janet a tissue with a red lipstick blot on it.

  “Why didn’t you leave him?” Ronnie said.

  “We taught at the same school, and people looked up to him. A divorce would have ruined him,” Janet said. “And I couldn’t do that to Jerry. I loved him.”

  Ronnie reached around Will and patted Janet’s shoulder. She had never heard so many words from Janet at one time. She knew, from her journaling, what a relief it was to push them out.

  “So I know what it’s like to feel alone in a marriage,” Janet said. “And I’ve wanted more for you, Ronnie. But I didn’t know how to want that for you without hurting Jeff. And without losing you as a part of my family.”

  Beverly reached for Janet’s hand.

  “Grandma Jan, will you tell us a story about Dad?” Andrew said.

  “A nice one,” Will added.

  Janet sniffed and thought a moment. “Back when he was eighteen, your father came home to tell us about his first year at college,” she began. It was all Ronnie could do not to roll her eyes. “Your mom was only six and had beautiful ringlet curls. She had a petticoat beneath her dress—”

  “She won’t let us get a pet goat,” Will said.

  “A petticoat made your skirt full,” Ronnie said, “but they haven’t been in fashion since the middle of the last century. Your grandma is telling a tall tale.”

  “I let you tell your story. This is mine,” Janet said. “Little Ronnie’s skirt was stiff with petticoats, and she had on white anklet socks and patent leather shoes—”

  “With taps on them,” Beverly added with a smile.

  “And she crawled up on your daddy’s lap and turned his face toward hers as if no one else was in the room, because she adored him. And she loved him so much she had you two boys and you were happy until…until your mother…”

  Ronnie tensed. Maybe mercy was too much to ask of a woman who had just lost her son. She deserved whatever Janet was about to say, but she wished the boys could believe in her for just a little longer.

  Janet said, “And you were happy for as long as you could possibly be.”

  Ronnie broke down and sobbed. Will rubbed her wrist, the salt from his fingers stinging the scratches Jeff had left that morning. His tenderness and the pain both felt right.

  Janet’s unexpected generosity felt like a hug from the least likely person in the room to offer one. She thought about Jeff’s hugs, where eyes were closed, heads were averted, tension was relieved, and secrets comfortably blanketed. Why had she craved them so? The tension in this circle—which required them to face one another, where comfort was desired yet not given, where escape was sought but not granted—just might hold them together.

  Ronnie’s stomach growled, loud enough that everyone heard. The boys erupted into giggles, then stopped short, looking to her.

  “Grieving doesn’t mean you have to feel sad every moment of the day,” Ronnie said. “You may not know how to feel right now. There’s no right or wrong. I guess each of us has to find our own way through it, however long that takes.” She looked at her mother and mother-in-law. “But we have to try, because grieving is what allows us to feel everything again.”

  Ronnie put her hand on her stomach. “Including hunger. Mom, we’d better pick up some groceries on the way to your apartment.”

  “If you all can get me up off this floor, I think you’d better come to my house,” Janet said. “I probably shouldn’t be alone. Plus, I have more beds. And ice cream.”

  Andrew smiled. “I hope you have a lot,” he said, already reaching for the door.

  Ronnie stooped to pick up the ring and the flask.

  “Mom.” Will looked at Ronnie. “When will we see Dad again?”

  The question took Ronnie’s breath away. Hadn’t Will understood what death meant? Hadn’t he understood the story she’d shared?

  “I think I have some old albums at home with pictures of your dad at about your age,” Janet said, putting her arm across his shoulders. “How about we’ll look for them tomorrow?”

  “That’d be cool,” he said.

  “Give it time, Sunshine,” Beverly whispered and slipped her arm around her daughter. “We’ve got a bit of winter ahead. But summer will come around again. And who knows, maybe next year, you could talk me into coming along to that beach house you like so much.”

  Ronnie opened her mother’s purse and dropped in the flask and the ring. Then, with her family around her, she headed out into the night.

  reading group guide

  1. Do you relate to Ronnie’s determination to honor her marriage vows and stay with Jeff despite the challenges of their relationship? How did she cope? What makes a vow worth breaking?

  2. How do Ronnie, Beverly, Janet, and Corporal McNichol differ in the way they respond to the stresses of the standoff?

  3. In her voice mail on the day of the standoff, Ronnie’s therapist says, “Don’t worry about being strong for others. Be strong in yourself.” What do you think she meant by this?

  4. In what way do you think Ronnie’s and Jeff’s characters are an outgrowth of their mothers’ issues, and how did they each differentiate themselves from their mothers?

  5. Where do you see Ronnie, Janet, and Beverly five years beyond the end of the book? Who do you think will have the hardest time adjusting to Jeff’s loss, and why?

  6. At one point, Janet makes a crack that she doesn’t believe in genetics. The genetics are bleak for Will and Andrew: on one side, their grandfather and great-grandmother received electroshock therapy for depression and their father committed suicide, and on the other, their grandfather committed suicide. Do you think these children might go on to lead emotionally and mentally healthy lives? What factors beyond genetics might influence their development?

  7. Tension between the three women feeds on secrets kept and truths revealed. Even Ronnie, who thrives on the truth and who suffered from secrets kept, sits on some information. How do you feel about others withholding information to protect you? What might influence your decision to withhold information from others?

  8. “If a horse went lame, [Jeff would] be the one with his arms around its neck, whispering in its ear, while Ronnie would be the one out by the hydrant, morning and night, cold hosing its leg and bandaging.” What do Ronnie’s and Jeff’s differing approaches to the care of animals say about the way they loved other people? How do you think each would define love?

  9. Discuss the role that setting plays in this story. In what ways do Ronnie and Jeff’s house, New Hope Farms, and the firehouse social
hall contribute to the story? How do these settings play a different role for Ronnie and Jeff?

  10. Corporal McNichol says that fixing Jeff’s problems is not Ronnie’s responsibility. In what ways do you think this is or isn’t true? Did you find it relatable that Ronnie picked up Jeff’s slack as his drinking and depression worsened? At what point does “helping” start to hurt? At what point must you allow a loved one to face the consequences of their actions?

  11. In his final suicide note, Jeff asks Ronnie to teach the boys that he loved them. If you were in this situation, would you be able to teach this message to your children? How would you go about it?

  12. Beverly and Janet concocted a family story about Ronnie—dressed like Shirley Temple, she climbed on Jeff’s lap to command his attention—and have told it the same way for so long that they’ve changed the family’s collective memory. Ronnie uses a similar technique when she recounts the kitten story for her sons to replace the horror of the suicide. Has your family ever told a story in a way that bent it over time, while also capturing an essential truth?

  13. Janet consciously decided not to tell Ronnie that Jeff had pulled a weapon on his first wife. If it was your son, and you saw how happy this new woman made him, would you give her this information before the wedding? Or would you, like Janet, think your son deserved the right to try to mature and be happy?

  14. In what way does Ronnie’s story complicate the well-intentioned notion that we should be more compassionate toward people who are depressed and get them the help they need? In what ways did the system let Jeff and Ronnie down, and what can be done about it?

  15. In response to her final attempt to get him help, Jeff wants to strike a bargain: he’ll try rehab if Ronnie is there for him as his wife when he gets out. Do you think she should have tried this additional measure? Why or why not?

  16. By the end of the standoff, Ronnie wonders whether she had ever really known Jeff at all. Do you think we can ever really know another person? What did Ronnie’s marriage teach her about relationships—and about herself?

  17. Several times in the book, a character signs a legal document authorizing an action that will have a significant impact on another character. Ronnie commits Jeff to a psych ward; Jerry signs for Janet to have fetus-threatening surgery; Ronnie authorizes the police to break her windows with canisters of Mace while Jeff is inside the building. Discuss these decisions. Would you have made the same ones? Have you ever had to authorize help for someone else, and how did it feel to take responsibility for that decision?

  18. At several points, Beverly compares her relationship with Janet to a marriage. Do you have friendships that sometimes feel that way? What are the benefits and challenges of maintaining such a close relationship with a friend during life-changing events?

  19. Ronnie and Jeff were deeply in debt. Although Jeff was in charge of the family finances, in what ways was Ronnie culpable for the state of their financial affairs? Did she deserve to pay this price for her mistakes?

  20. Ronnie and Jeff, Beverly and Janet: both couples have a substantial age difference. In what ways do you think this feeds and/or challenges the relationships?

  21. The Far End of Happy takes place over only twelve hours. In your opinion, which character exhibits the most significant growth arc, and why?

  22. Throughout the day, the big challenge for the characters is to try to sustain some sort of hope. Do you think the story ends on a hopeful note, despite the obvious tragedy? Do you, like Beverly, think it’s possible to hold extreme pain and extreme joy in your heart at the same time?

  a conversation with the author

  This is a novel based on true events. Why did you decide to fictionalize? What is true, and what is made up?

  Before writing this novel, I had spent several years drafting a memoir, mining the events that led up to my first husband’s suicide standoff for aspects of story. I did so to create a record for my sons and me. Even while writing memoir, though, which relies on “facts” and naturally occurring story arcs, I always realized my version of those “true” events would differ significantly from someone else’s. Both memoir and fiction, however, are ways of arriving at what is true for that writer. By freeing me from the constraints of fact, fiction ultimately gave me the leeway to tell an engaging story while still bringing my personal truth into full emotional bloom.

  As for what is factual, other than an embellishment or two, most of the police action is as I remember it. As for what feels true, I’d answer the same way I would about my first, entirely fabricated novel: all of it.

  Do any of the characters play themselves?

  Yes, but they were all four-legged: Max, Daydream, and Horsey Patch. In memory of my therapist, who was struck down on the streets of Reading, Pennsylvania, by a hit-and-run driver after offering free counseling at Berks Women in Crisis, I named Ronnie’s therapist Anita.

  This was sensitive material and must have been hard to revisit. Why did you decide to write a book about it? What did you hope to accomplish?

  While sharing my story through the years, verbally and on paper, I learned that the events that led up to the standoff’s tragic outcome were relatable to many women. When our country’s economy crashed in 2008 and so many lost the hope and security that comes from a lifetime of saving and investment, I felt more strongly than ever that sharing my story might help provide hope to others who had to start over and rebuild.

  Interaction with death almost always invites us to reassess how we are spending our lives, but what made my husband’s suicide so troubling were the persistent, unanswered questions. When did everything start falling apart? How did I miss it, in what ways was I compensating for it, and why did I ignore the signs? There are no clean lines in a story like ours, only endless shades of gray, and a lot of questions about relationships and life that are well worth asking. Without a doubt, that’s why I wrote this book.

  But I also realized, even as we were experiencing it, that death did not have dominion over the day of my husband’s suicide, which contained within it the full range of life’s emotional content. Joy and pain, tragedy and victory, togetherness and aloneness, beauty and revulsion, faith and despair, the known and the unknown—it was all there. A tragedy is always unfolding somewhere, whether we know it or not—during the time it takes to read this interview, at least one more person in the United States will die at his or her own hand. Yet despite my family’s focus that day on a loved one determined to die, for those of us who chose life, it was a day worth living.

  How did you decide to rename yourself for the novelized version of your story?

  First, I want to be clear—while we are a lot alike, I am not Ronnie. As happens in many novels, each character carries some spark from the author’s personal fire.

  My perspective is closest to Ronnie’s, though, and naming her wasn’t easy! I wanted a masculinized version of a female name to suggest, subtly, that she was functioning as both mother and father to her children. I began with Mick/Michelle, which I loved right up until the backstory referenced “Mick and Jeff,” which sounded so much like “Mutt and Jeff” that I had to abandon the choice. I switched to Bennie/Benicia until “Bennie and Jeff” became “Bennie and the Jeff.”

  After that, further naming felt too random. My first husband’s name was Ronald, and his mother and coworkers called him Ronnie. A lightbulb went on—I could name her Ronnie/Veronica—and the entire project clicked into place for me. By naming her Ronnie, I could achieve that thing story does best: create meaning from chaos. Oddly, I latched right on to the notion and never grew confused during the writing. It was healing for me to write about the standoff in a way that allowed someone named Ronnie to experience the end of the marriage, the financial disaster, and the day’s events, yet still choose to embrace life.

  How did you choose your point-of-view characters?

  Even on the day of my first husband’s
standoff, when all was fresh and uncertain, I knew that the events of that day affected many more people than just my sons and me. A single point of view seemed disingenuous; I wasn’t even the only mother involved. By creating points of view for the mother who lost her son and the mother with hidden secrets who had to share her daughter’s trauma, I was able to spread the pain across the broken shoulders of all who were left behind, as does suicide.

  It made no sense to presume to know Jeff’s heart by giving him a point of view. His actions silenced his voice. If this character wanted his perspective known, he would have fought harder to stay in the story.

  Telling the story in twelve hours is a technique more often used in suspense and thrillers than in women’s fiction. Why did you decide to tell the story this way? What specific challenges did this structure present?

  To my way of thinking, the standoff symbolized the stalemate that resulted when all efforts were spent at the useful end of Ronnie and Jeff’s relationship. All marriages exhibit moments of miscommunication, lack of connection, and disappointment, but this high-stakes scenario electrifies Ronnie’s look back at what might have led to this moment in time with the undercurrent of imminent harm.

  For all three women, the deep shame that comes when private matters are exposed publicly is blown sky-high when governmental resources are tapped to save the community from Jeff’s actions. Keeping the war at home within a tight frame seemed the best way to keep the reader focused on the fact that the way we lead our family lives can at any moment become a high-stakes game.

  Yet a standoff, for the most part, is really a lot of high-tension waiting. My challenge was to include enough story events during those twelve hours so that the three women’s private thoughts about what might have brought them to this place in their lives didn’t outstrip the ongoing standoff action. To do so, I moved true events from elsewhere on our real timeline into the fictional frame of that day’s events.