by Sylvia True
“Your mother is allowed to wear whatever she likes to see her friends.”
“I think…” Alicia stops. Hannah watches as her daughter tries to figure out something mean to say.
“I’d be very proud to be seen with your mother looking like that,” Adam says.
His compliment should feel good, but instead she is reminded that they don’t go out, they don’t have sex, they don’t sleep in the same bed. She remembers an overnight flight to Europe, how they tried to fool around in the restroom. Adam hit his head. It was a hopeless, funny escapade. But now it’s just another tainted memory.
“You look like a … someone who wants a boyfriend,” Alicia grumbles.
“Oh, honey,” Hannah says sarcastically as she looks at Adam. She knows she should restrain herself. “That would certainly not be me.” The words slip out.
His face hardens. It was a low blow, even if Alicia has no idea of the underlying reference.
“You look old,” Alicia sneers.
Hannah feels a sting. She tries to brush it off. “I am old, at least a lot older than you.”
Adam stays silent, smoldering.
She should apologize. There was no call for such a searing comment, but when she looks at him and sees a tall, handsome man who likes to have sex with younger men, she wants to pound her fists on his chest. It would be so much easier if she felt nothing. She controls herself, walks to Alicia, and pats her head.
“Well, I’m off. Have a good night.” Her smile is fake.
Alicia shrinks away. At least her distaste, the way her lip curls up a little, is real. Better that than the false mask Hannah has learned to wear so well.
* * *
She is the last to arrive at Kathryn’s office. The extra time she took getting ready delayed her. She’s not late, just not early for once. Everyone smiles and says hello. The room feels energized, excited—different. Hannah never imagined coming to this group would be something she’d look forward to, but right now it feels a lot lighter and easier than being at home. She could use the break.
She smiles at Bridget, who is wearing a silky peach dress with spaghetti straps, black-heeled sandals, and gold jewelry. Her hair, pulled back in a small bun, is beginning to show its natural dark roots. She looks pretty, subtle. Even Gail seems softer in an elegant teal suit with an off-white blouse. But most striking is her new haircut, slightly asymmetrical and sophisticated.
“It’s nice to see everyone,” Kathryn begins. “You all look beautiful.” Her compliment is sincere, and Hannah appreciates that she stepped out of her therapist box and voiced an opinion.
Instead of red, Flavia opted for a tight, black sleeveless turtleneck dress that clings to her graceful curves. “Dema, he look at me with the jealous eyes when I left.” She twists the large silver cuff bracelet on her wrist.
“Yeah,” Bridget says. “Michael was the same. All suspicious. He wanted to know why I would get dressed up to sit with a group of women.”
“What did you tell him?” Gail asks.
“That it was none of his fucking business.”
“I don’t think Greg even noticed anything different,” Lizzy says. Her long peasant skirt comes to her ankles. A colorful scarf is thrown loosely around her neck.
“Asshole,” Bridget says.
“How could he not notice?” Flavia asks. “You look like a movie star.”
Lizzy smiles. “Thanks. I don’t seem to be on his radar screen lately.”
“Do you find that difficult?” Kathryn’s eyes are sympathetic.
“It all feels difficult,” Lizzy replies. “I have to pinch myself in bed so that I don’t start questioning him. Asking if he’s watched porn, or why he doesn’t want me.”
Gail claps softly. “Bravo. Learning to accept that we can’t fix them is the hardest thing to do.”
“I can’t promise I’ll fare so well next week,” Lizzy says.
“One day at a time,” Gail tells her.
“No,” Bridget says. “She’s not in any stupid program. If she feels like asking, she should be able to. It’s not like she’s the addict.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Gail adjusts her collar. “I meant that it’s important to try and live in the moment and not worry about all the things that can go wrong in the future.”
“So, Hannah.” Bridget raises her eyebrows. “What did Adam say about your outfit?”
Hannah thinks of her remark to Adam and how Alicia looked at her. It feels as if her heart is being squeezed. “He thought I looked good.”
“That’s it?” Bridget asks.
“We’re not really into giving each other compliments lately, that’s all.”
“One of the things Jonah and I decided to do was to give each other at least two compliments a day.” Gail smiles. “At first it felt forced, but now I’m beginning to see how it’s changed him. His face isn’t so drawn.”
“Does anything ever go wrong for you?” Bridget asks.
“Of course there are glitches. But I believe we’ve seen the worst of this, and I’m able to reflect back and see the things that have helped. Letting go of needing to fix his disease and complimenting each other were two of those things.” She traces the edge of her new haircut.
“So, any glitches this week?” Bridget prods.
Gail rubs her hand along her skirt as if it needs smoothing out. “Funny you should ask.” She takes a deep breath and sits up a little. “Yes, there was. I received another letter from the young woman who thinks Jonah is in love with her.”
“That’s a glitch?” Bridget’s eyes are wide. “For me that would be a grenade.”
“It may have been a trigger some time ago.” Gail shifts. “But I was surprisingly calm about it.”
Hannah wouldn’t accuse her of being a liar, but she doesn’t believe her either.
“What helped you to be able to remain calm?” Kathryn asks.
“Trusting Jonah.”
“What did he say when you showed it to him?” Bridget asks.
Gail shifts again. “I haven’t told him yet. I intend to, but there didn’t seem to be any urgency. We are both very busy.”
“I dunno,” Bridget says. “It sort of seems like there’s some denial going on there.”
Gail nods as if she can take the criticism objectively. “We really have been busy, and I just simply didn’t obsess about it.”
“Weren’t you just a little curious to see what he’d say?” Bridget asks.
“Until you brought it up, I suppose I wasn’t.” She looks at Kathryn, signaling that her part in this discussion is over.
“I want to get to that point,” Lizzy says. “Where this stuff doesn’t consume me. I would never have been able to stay calm.”
Hannah shakes her head. “I want to stay calm too, but don’t you wonder sometimes?” She sighs, thinking of how to phrase her next sentence. “I mean, they hope we won’t react. And if we do, they make it seem as if we’re crazy. About a year ago, when we were driving home from New York, we stopped at a Dunkin Donuts for coffee. I told Adam to go through the drive-through, but he insisted on going in because he wanted to stretch. I waited in the car, my thoughts reeling. Was he looking at porn on his phone, calling someone? He came back out a few minutes later, looking happy and … I don’t know, content. I felt stupid and paranoid for thinking anything bad. But we’re not paranoid, or overreacting, or crazy. It’s sane and normal to be suspicious in our positions.” She hadn’t expected to make a speech, but Hannah doesn’t want Lizzy to think that where Gail is is necessarily the right place to be.
“It is important to listen to your feelings,” Kathryn says.
“What I meant to say was that I have detached,” Gail clarifies. “I know I have to take care of myself. I can’t fix Jonah. I never could. If he is acting out, there is nothing I can do, so why make myself crazy over it?”
“I am not sure I understand this word detach,” Flavia says. “I cannot see how it can be done if you are in a marriage.�
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“I think in this case, detaching is not obsessing about your partner’s behavior, which can allow you to look at your own situation more objectively,” Kathryn explains.
“The key is,” Gail begins, “you have to put yourself first. You can’t waste all your energy worrying about them.”
“I too want to take care of myself, but can I do both?” Flavia asks, confused. “Can I be good to myself and also worry what Dema is doing? I would like to help him.”
“I’m not saying I don’t want to help Jonah. I want that more than anything. I just believe that the best help we can give is to let the person go. To trust that they will come to you when they need to. If Jonah is engaging in any addictive behavior, I believe he’ll seek guidance. If he doesn’t, he’s just going to lie anyway, so what can I really do? Nag?”
“I do that,” Lizzy says. “I badger. Greg tells me I do. I’m always harping on him about why he doesn’t want to have sex with me. Sometimes I bring it up when it’s not even what I want at that moment.”
“I don’t like that he tells you that you badger him,” Bridget says. “And I don’t like that you agree with him. Your husband is supposed to have sex with you, if that’s what you want. And you should tell him that it isn’t badgering, or nagging, or any other shit like that.” She holds her head up.
“But,” Gail says.
“You’re not going to disagree with me on this one too?”
“Not exactly. But there is another side. Say someone is recovering from heart surgery. They may not be ready to have sex yet.”
“Except he didn’t have heart surgery. Last week it was Alzheimer’s. I get that sex addiction is supposed to be a disease, but really it just doesn’t compare to those.”
“The point is, he may need time to recover,” Gail says.
“Or he’s still lying his ass off.”
“That’s not for you to surmise,” Gail says.
“Someone has to say it,” Bridget tells her, then turns to Lizzy. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that to be mean to you.”
“I shouldn’t trust him,” Lizzy says.
Kathryn turns toward the couch. “It’s hard to find trust again when you’ve been betrayed. It can take a long time and a lot of very small steps.”
Flavia raises a hand and looks at Lizzy. “I think you are brave. First to ask for what it is you want. And now to try to give him space. But you must not let him make you think you are the badger.”
“Thanks,” Lizzy says.
“I think I hate that the most.” The sentence flies out of Hannah’s mouth. She glances around, suddenly aware she began something she does not want to finish. It was one thing to talk about an inconsequential incident that happened over a year ago. It is an entirely different matter to have blurted out something that refers to her present life.
Everyone is quiet, waiting.
“What I meant was, I hate when I look like the bad one.” She picks up her purse and places it on her lap.
“Why would you ever look like the bad one?” Bridget asks.
Hannah pretends to look for something. She pulls out a Chapstick and opens it, but doesn’t put any on. “My daughter, Alicia, is acting out at school. I think it’s because she feels the friction between Adam and me. I know she believes it’s my fault and her father can do no wrong.”
“Is there some way you can make her understand that you haven’t done anything to cause the problems in your marriage?” Kathryn asks.
“She’s only nine. Right now she trusts her father, and he’s done nothing to hurt her. I can’t take that away from her. She needs him.” She puts the Chapstick back in her bag. Kathryn might have asked a good question, but parents should not dump their issues on their children.
“But he has hurt her,” Bridget says. “By hurting you.”
“Most addictions affect the whole family,” Kathryn adds.
Hannah grips the wooden chair seat. Her neck feels hot. She’s dizzy. The thought of Alicia urinating on the floor keeps intruding. Her beautiful little girl, doing something like that.
“May I ask what happened in school?” Gail asks.
Heat rises from Hannah’s neck to her cheeks. “She’s been calling other kids names.”
“Misplaced anger,” Gail suggests.
“Probably.” Hannah fiddles with her pearls. She’s said more than enough.
“It could be worse,” Bridget comforts.
Hannah looks at her red shoes and regrets that she told everyone to dress up. She should have kept her distance last week. Now here they are being so nice, and all she wants is to be left alone.
“I guess it could be,” Hannah says, although she’s not sure how.
“Can I ask,” Flavia says softly, “what did your husband do?”
Hannah feels a hitch in her throat. She circles her hand in the air. “The usual sex addict stuff, you know, secrets and lies.”
“Oh,” Flavia says, as if that explains everything. “I am so sorry.”
“It’s all right. I mean, I’m all right. Someone else should go.” The clock ticks. Kathryn would be wise to invest in one that isn’t so grating.
“We’re here for you too,” Lizzy says.
“Thanks,” Hannah replies. She is surprised to feel a tear on her cheek. Flavia hands her a tissue.
“These things can be difficult to talk about,” Kathryn says.
Hannah nods amenably. If she were Bridget, she might say, No shit.
“Perhaps if you could talk about why it’s so difficult to talk,” Kathryn suggests.
“Yes,” Hannah agrees, with no intention of doing such a thing. Kathryn is being pushy. Her youth is showing.
Bridget scuffs a foot on the carpet.
Lizzy tugs at a thread on the couch.
Flavia twists her hair.
The seconds tick loudly, endlessly, annoyingly.
“So,” Bridget begins, “I told Michael I was pregnant.”
Kathryn glances at Hannah, who looks at Bridget, making it clear that it’s okay to move on. In fact, better that way.
Kathryn hesitates, then turns to Bridget. “And how did he take it?” she asks.
Hannah can breathe again. As Bridget describes her outing to the movies, Hannah hears fragments. Popcorn. Asshole. She thinks that marriage is a tangled, complicated mess of a thing. And if you get too entwined and enmeshed, how can you just detach?
“I sort of did something bad,” Bridget says.
Hannah nods as if she’s been paying attention all along.
Bridget continues, “I told him I was getting an abortion. I did it to hurt him and I regret it, but I haven’t been able to tell him the truth yet.”
“Why do you think you can’t tell him?” Kathryn asks.
She exhales dramatically. “Because he’ll make me feel like a five-year-old for lying.”
“But he’s lied to you,” Lizzy says.
“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” Bridget tells her.
“True,” Gail says. “But with this disease, you slowly learn that you both need to be vigorously honest. Tell him why you lied. Explain that you wanted to hurt him because of how hurt you’ve been. You knew it was wrong, but it’s human.”
Somewhere beneath all the noise in Hannah’s head, she is grateful and surprised Gail has such compassion.
“He’s still gonna be pissed.”
“Feelings aren’t always nice, pretty things,” Gail tells her.
Hannah tries to focus on Bridget, but she’s dizzy. She pictures Adam going into that Dunkin Donuts a year ago. She repressed her suspicions, told herself when he came out with an extra bounce in his step he was just glad to be with his family. He’d kissed her and told her she was beautiful, made her feel warm and full, and now she would bet he went in to copy phone numbers off a bathroom wall. He was giddy, high with the anticipation of his next encounter. Hardly the kind husband or good father he shows to the world.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah says, and stands. “I’m not
feeling so well.” She grabs her purse and hurries to the bathroom. The floor tiles are old and cracked. She kneels and vomits in the toilet. When she’s finished, she sits with her back against the wall and cries.
Not even a minute later, there’s a knock.
“Hannah,” Lizzy calls.
“I’m okay,” she replies.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No. I’ll just be a minute.”
“Okay. But come get one of us if you need to.”
When it’s quiet again, Hannah closes her eyes. Her stomach feels raw. Her head aches. She sees bright spots. Slowly her heart begins to beat regularly and she feels as if she can stand. From the old porcelain sink, she splashes cold water on her face, then glances at her heavily made-up eyes. Alicia was right, she looks silly, like she’s dressed up for Halloween. As much as she’d just like to walk out to her car, she can’t. Bridget and Lizzy, the others too, might worry, and they certainly don’t need any added anxiety in their lives.
She walks back in as Flavia is telling the group about the court date.
“Please, keep going,” Hannah tells her as she takes her seat.
“We were concerned,” Flavia says.
“I feel better. Really. Don’t stop.”
“We did what you told us to do,” Flavia tells Gail. “He got probation. If they catch him again, he will be in bad trouble. But for now, I feel relief.”
Hannah looks at the clock. Five more minutes. She can make it. But then she has to go home and face her life, and the thought of that makes her nauseated again.
“I want to close today by telling you all how impressed I am with your courage,” Kathryn says.
Hannah certainly doesn’t feel courageous.
“So, drinks at the bar around the corner?” Bridget asks.
Flavia nods.
“I’m afraid I have to work in the morning,” Gail says.
“You didn’t get that spicy new hairdo and wear that suit to sit in here. Come on. We’re all going. Right?” Bridget asks.
“I think I need to go home,” Hannah says.
Bridget pouts. “You have to come. You were the one who told us to dress up.”
Maybe it will help. At the very least it will ensure that her family will be in bed by the time she gets home.