by Lynn Steward
Suppressing tears, Patti looked deeply into Jack’s eyes and saw that he was speaking from the heart. “What’s important is that we’re here now, together,” she said, circling her husband’s waist with her arms while laying her head against his shoulder.
They stood in their embrace for several minutes without saying a word. It was Jack who at last broke the silence.
“You see, Patti,” he said, “the truth is that—”
Patti quickly covered Jack’s lips with her hand.
“No, Jack. I don’t need to know the particulars. I’ve been waiting for you to open up to me, and you’ve done that today. I know you’ve been consulting a psychiatrist because I found your bottle of Valium.”
“You mean that—”
“Wait, Jack. Let me finish. I know the move to New York has been tougher on you than it has been on me, and I’m also aware that you’ve had a lot of challenges at work with your suppliers, the consortium agreement, and other matters. What you say to your doctor is private. It’s enough to know that you’re seeking help and still want to be with me.”
“I do very much,” Jack said, kissing Patti on the cheek. He was no longer physically attracted to her in the way he once had been, but maybe that would change in time as well. “You’ve been so patient with me. I wish there were something I could do to make up for these past months.”
Patti stepped back and patted Jack’s chest lightly with both of her hands. “Just stay in therapy and we’ll get through this,” she said, wiping a single tear from her cheek. “That’s enough for me.”
They sat together on the couch, holding hands for the next hour while reminiscing on the good times they’d had in Texas.
“We’ll have to get back there more often,” Jack said. “Maybe buy a second home and spend a few months there every year. Meanwhile, I promised you a vacation.”
“That sounds great,” Patti said, her body leaning against Jack’s. “Why don’t we plan it tonight? It’ll be fun.”
Later, Patti went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Her patience had paid off. Her husband had finally confided in her that he needed help. She still suspected that he’d had an affair—isn’t that what he was on the verge of confessing?—but she didn’t want to know either way. Their road ahead would be difficult enough without the added burden of an affair hanging over their heads for the rest of their lives. While Patti was shrewd and observant, she was also wise. In the end, she simply wanted her husband back. What was paramount was that they move forward.
Still in the den, Jack remained on the couch, reflecting on the day. He was certain that he’d done the right thing. But what if Andrew should call? What if he had a sudden change of heart? Jack let out a sigh. That was an unlikely scenario, and even if he did, Jack had made his decision. His history and love for Patti went too far back, too deep. Thinking of Andrew was still painful, but his sense of peace outweighed his discomfort.
He was home.
Chapter Forty-Two
Andrew lay in Chad Collins’ queen size bed on Sunday morning while Chad went to get the New York Times and croissants. Andrew got up, put on a blue velour robe, and began making coffee. He inhaled the aroma from the pot and thought it a stark contrast to sitting at the Out of Bounds and drinking endless cocktails.
“Here we go,” announced Chad when he returned to the apartment. “This is really all anyone needs on a Sunday morning in New York City—besides the right company, that is.” He moved towards Andrew and gave him a warm hug.
The two sat at the butcher block kitchen counter as they ate.
“I should have seen it coming,” Andrew said as he sipped from a coffee mug.
“Seen what coming?” Chad asked.
“Jack’s getting cold feet. Not being able to commit to our relationship.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. Do you remember that I told you during our first meeting in the Village that I knew people who’d been in your shoes?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I actually know only one person, and that someone is me.”
Andrew sat back in his chair, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Why didn’t you just tell me straight out? I thought you got dumped by some guy named Ron. The ski instructor.”
“Because it would have sounded like a lame pickup line. Yeah, there was a guy named Ron—that was real enough—but before him I went out with an older man named Arthur. We met at work. Arthur had been married for ten years but had no children. I asked him why one day, and he suddenly broke into tears and told me that he didn’t really love his wife, that the marriage always been a sham and a pretense to please his family.”
“How long were you two together?”
“Two years, believe it or not. He even separated from his wife—her name was Doris—but on the two-year anniversary of our meeting, he said he’d made an awful mistake. Doris never took him back, but one day he up and resigned from the company, and I never saw nor heard from him again. Someone told me later that he moved to LA.”
“I’m sorry. Did you love him?”
Chad nodded. “I did, but that’s ancient history now. I’m here with you. I guess what I’m saying is that this kind of thing happens, and it’s possible to recover from it.” He reached across the table and covered Andrew’s hand with his.
“I guess we’re kindred spirits,” Andrew said. “I’m glad you were there when I wandered into the Out of Bounds.”
“You looked pretty lost, but hey—sometimes people are just in the right place at the right time. Call it kismet.”
The couple raised their coffee mugs.
“To kismet,” Andrew said.
“Say, want to take in a matinee this afternoon? I’ll look in the movie section.”
“Sure,” Andrew said. “That’s what I do most Sundays.”
Andrew had thought of Jack many times since giving him an ultimatum, and he’d been tempted to pick up the phone on more than one occasion and call his private number at Hartlen Response and tell him that he was sorry, that he’d been too harsh and judgmental. Each time, however, he’d changed his mind. Something deep inside told him that he was right, that Jack was enmeshed with his family and would never leave the nest, least of all Patti. Living in the shadows since last December had been too much of a strain, and he couldn’t handle it any longer. In his estimation, Jack wasn’t going to ask for a divorce, but even if Andrew was correct on that count, he might have ended up living in the shadows for another year, maybe longer, and the cloak and dagger would have been intolerable.
It had been serendipitous that he’d met Chad Collins, someone who knew exactly how he felt, having lived through a similar drama himself. Was Chad a rebound relationship? Technically yes, but Andrew thought it had potential, and he had to start somewhere, had to start living again and not stay holed up in his apartment. He would miss Jack, always retaining a soft spot for him in his heart, but for now, he was starting to come to terms that the relationship was over. It happened all the time, as Chad had stated so philosophically.
Today, he would go to a movie with Chad Collins.
Chapter Forty-Three
For Dana, work at B. Altman on Monday was like any other day. She went about her business, and Andrew seemed in unusually high spirits. Even Helen smiled at her several times when they passed each other in the fifth floor hallway. Dana’s thoughts, however, were never far from Mark and Amanda, and she prayed silently every hour for Amanda’s recovery and for guidance on her relationship with Mark. She hoped for a phone call, however brief, that would update her on Amanda’s progress. Couldn’t Mark take five minutes to call, knowing how concerned she was? If he couldn’t, perhaps something bad had happened. Perhaps Amanda was in the ICU—or worse. Maybe she hadn’t pulled through. As the day wore on, Dana grew more worried and told Andrew of Saturday’s events at Muttontown and New York Hospital.
“Slow down,” Andrew said, sitting in Dana’s office. “Spinal surgery is delicate and can tak
e several hours. The operation may have lasted all day yesterday, and Amanda may not even be out of the recovery room. Mark is probably worried sick, and I suspect he may also be preoccupied with the doctors. I doubt that he wants to disappear for even a second. Give it time.”
Dana sighed. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just hard not to think about Amanda.”
“I know,” Andrew said, “but as the old saying goes, this too shall pass.”
“You seem awfully optimistic today,” Dana observed.
“I’ve had my ups and downs in the past weeks, but I’m trying to take my own advice and do the best I can from moment to moment.”
“Good for you,” Dana said. “And thanks.”
At home, Dana took Wills for his evening walk. When she returned, the telephone was ringing, and she unhooked Wills from the leash and dashed for the telephone.
“It’s Irwin, Dana. I wanted you to know that Amanda’s surgery went well, although it lasted until ten last night. She was taken from recovery to ICU late this morning and might be there a day or two. Thankfully, she’s in stable condition. The surgeon performed something called spinal fusion by inserting titanium rods into the affected vertebrae.”
“What’s the long-term outlook?” Dana asked.
“That’s hard to say. The disks are going to need time to heal, and the doctors naturally aren’t going to commit to any hard and fast prediction. The waiting is going to be hard on all of us.”
“How is Mark?”
“He hasn’t left the hospital since Saturday except to get a change of clothes and shower at his apartment early Sunday morning before the surgery, which was scheduled for noon. Otherwise, he’s been by Amanda’s bedside the entire time. He sleeps in the chair in her room and eats in the cafeteria.”
“I wish so much that I could be there to help him.”
“I know, but Marsha’s right beside him, and I think you know what that means. But here’s some good news. He’s going back to his apartment tomorrow afternoon if Amanda remains stable, and he hopes that you’ll meet him there for dinner. He’s going to check in at work on Wednesday morning, and then be back at the hospital in the afternoon. He’ll probably take some time off but work half days if the need arises. Amanda is going to be in the hospital for at least two weeks, maybe longer. She’ll have to remain immobile for a long time until her disks start to heal. However this plays out, the surgeon admitted that she has a lot of rehab ahead of her.”
“Thank you so much for calling, Irwin. I’ve been thinking about Amanda all day. Tell Mark I’ll be over at six thirty.”
“He’ll be happy to hear. And by the way, I’m going to drop the clothing samples off at your apartment on Wednesday evening if you’re going to be home. I know you’re under the gun, so I made them a priority.”
“No, I’ll come to Brooklyn,” Dana insisted. “You’ve done too much already. Please don’t inconvenience yourself anymore.”
“Hey, I’m your partner, and it’s no trouble. I know you have a lot on your mind, and I’ll be in the city anyway. It’s what friends are for, Dana. I’ll see you Wednesday night.”
Dana felt somewhat relieved after she hung up. Knowing that Amanda was out of immediate danger was of some comfort, although the weeks of waiting to see what kind of recovery she’d make would be agonizing.
Before going upstairs, she glanced at the mail, hoping to see a letter from Father Macaulay. She realized, however, that any response he might have sent wouldn’t have had time to reach her yet.
She went to bed early, not wanting to dwell on what Mark would say at dinner the following evening. Everything was up in the air, but as Father Macaulay had told her from their very first meeting, she had to take care of herself.
• • •
Dana was at her desk on Tuesday morning when Alan Rudnick called.
“Good morning, Dana,” the attorney said. “I was wondering if you could come in tomorrow morning and meet with Brett and his attorney, Tom Silver.”
“Can you hold him off a bit longer?” Dana asked. “I don’t think I could get all my work done even if there were three of me.”
“I’m afraid not. I put Silver off once, but he’s adamant that we meet as soon as possible. As we discussed, they almost certainly want to amend the initial agreement Brett signed in January before the final divorce decree goes into effect, and I’d like to know the chapter and verse of what they’re going to propose. The sooner we know what they’re up to, the sooner I can frame a response that’s to our advantage.”
“All right,” Dana said, flustered. “If there’s no way around it, I’ll be there.”
“Thanks,” Rudnick said. “The meeting’s at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Dana sat at her desk, dreading seeing Brett again. Of all the people in the world she didn’t want to deal with right now, it was her husband. Amanda, Mark, The British Shop, Helen—she had so many things on her mind, not to mention her routine duties as buyer. There just weren’t enough hours in the day. And now Brett was going to renege on their agreement? She wished she were in a quiet room at the Lansdowne Club in London.
• • •
Unlike Monday, Tuesday was not a day like any other for Dana. She was not only preoccupied with what Mark was going to say about his marriage to Marsha, but now the meeting with Brett loomed over her head. She was distracted while meeting with other buyers, and during a meeting with Helen, she became so lost in thought that she had to ask Helen to repeat herself.
“Are you all right, Dana?” Helen asked. “You don’t look well.”
“I’m fine. Just juggling a lot of balls right now.”
“Well, get your head back in the game,” Helen said. “We’re all juggling a dozen things at once. It’s what we do every day.”
Dana smiled at the curt remark and left, returning to her office while attempting to concentrate.
When the clock on her desk mercifully read five o’clock, Dana gathered up her things quickly, went home to walk Wills, then grabbed a taxi and headed for the Upper West Side. There was no need to bring Wills. She would be coming home tonight. For the past two days and nights her thoughts and prayers were for Amanda’s recovery, suppressing the shock and hurt on learning of Mark’s marriage. Now it was time for them to face another trauma, and, hopefully, they, too, would recover. She had no idea how she would feel after hearing Mark’s explanation but in her heart she still trusted him.
Mark greeted Dana with a hug as soon as he opened the door.
“Amanda?” Dana asked.
“Out of ICU and on a ward, but she’s on a lot of pain medication. At least she made it through the surgery without complications.”
“I’m so glad, Mark,” Dana said, fighting back tears. I feel so bad, so responsible. I should never have—”
“Stop right there,” Mark said. “I know where you’re going, and you’re not to blame.”
“But—”
“We’ve got other things to discuss now, so let’s sit down and talk about Marsha. Would you like a glass of wine?”
Dana shook her head. “No, thanks.”
“Okay then,” Mark began when they were seated on his couch. “What I’m about to tell you, I should have mentioned weeks ago, but I didn’t, and all I can do is ask for your forgiveness. I was caught up in feeling so good about our relationship. I’d like to think that I would have said something shortly, but the truth unfortunately came out at a very unfortunate time.”
“It was quite a shock, Mark,” Dana said quietly. “But I realized that you needed a chance to tell me your side of the story. I’m here to listen.”
Mark took Dana’s hand and inhaled, as if ready to go deeper into his personal history.
“Marsha and I shared similar backgrounds and our families encouraged the relationship. We were caught up in everyone’s euphoria and, before we knew it, we were engaged. Unfortunately, after the marriage, we learned that we didn’t have much in common. When Amanda came along, we put as
ide our differences like so many young parents do. Our focus was totally on our baby daughter. As Amanda grew older, however, I was absorbed in my career, and problems in the marriage surfaced again as Amanda became more independent and didn’t need us hovering over her every minute. As time wore on, I didn’t want to subject her to our arguments, so I moved out in 1971 and rented a small apartment here on the Upper West Side, although we hadn’t filed for a legal separation. Amanda was devastated, and I was worried sick about her every minute of every day. She had a lot of problems with the visitation schedule Marsha and I worked out, so we decided to make another go of it after Amanda’s Sweet Sixteen party, when so many family and friends gathered to celebrate the occasion. It was a reminder of how important family is in the lives of children. I moved back in, and for six months or so, things went back to normal. It was a relief to see Amanda return to her normal routine, but nothing had changed between Marsha and me. We couldn’t agree on anything. She resented my long hours at work, and I also think she was jealous of how close Amanda and I were. My time alone with Amanda on the trails was something that especially irritated Marsha, plus she didn’t like my friends and I didn’t like hers. We rarely went out together, and our lives were as miserable as they’d always been.”
“It sounds like you did everything humanly possible for the good of Amanda,” Dana noted.
“We tried, but Amanda definitely picked up on the tension—keep in mind that she was much older by then—and so I decided once again to move out, this time in 1973. Marsha and I filed for a legal separation, although working out terms would prove difficult, if not impossible. I nevertheless knew that the marriage was over and bought into this co-op.”
“How did Amanda take the second separation?” Dana asked.
“Not well. Even though she saw the strain in our marriage, she, like any kid, wanted her parents to stay together. As she once said, why can’t the two of you just get along? Sometimes divorce can be harder on older kids than younger ones. As a psychologist friend of mine explained it, older children begin to wonder if what they saw while growing up was real or just a pretense. Anyway, the visitations started again, and Amanda threw herself into her riding more than ever as a way to cope. She became even more serious about competitive jumping, I think, as a way to please me or perhaps to prove her self-worth, since kids of divorce tend to blame themselves.”