Gretchen looked at the green chair. She looked at it for almost a minute. Sandy really wanted to know what Gretchen saw there, in the chair, what the marriage looked like to her.
“Steve, if we ever get back together it has to be a completely new marriage,” Gretchen said slowly.
Steve was looking at the marriage too, the marriage sitting in the green chair.
“It can’t be completely new,” he said. “We can’t erase the past.”
Gretchen turned to look at him, and there were tears in her eyes.
“You’re right,” she said. And they just sat there. And sat. Sandy let them. Silence was the best marriage counseling at that moment.
Finally the blue eyes clicked on, and focused on Steve.
“I’m not exactly sure what I was doing, or what we’re doing now,” Gretchen said. “But I do think we’ve been learning a lot. You know, Steve, I used to be scared of you. I was. Like giving you those letters? I never would have done it, because I would have been scared you’d hit the roof. Now? Hit it all you want. It doesn’t matter.”
“Sure it does,” Sandy said.
“No, not really,” Gretchen said.
“You know he’s not going to hit the roof,” Sandy said. “That’s why it doesn’t matter.”
“Not now he won’t, because you’re here,” Gretchen said.
“No,” Sandy said. “He’s just not going to hit the roof. He would have been on your doorstep when he finished reading the letters. He would have been in the street. He would have been wild. Was he?”
Gretchen looked at Steve, then back at Sandy.
“No, he wasn’t,” Gretchen said. “I almost called him. He’d had the letters for a couple of days. Why hadn’t I heard a reaction?”
Sandy smiled. Steve, you can be a son of a bitch, she thought.
“But I didn’t call him on it, and I didn’t call him,” Gretchen said. “I knew he was showing me how mature he’d become.”
“You know, Gretchen, there are a lot of people, they shoot each other over stuff like this,” Sandy said. “Novels get written.”
“Well, that’s not Steve,” Gretchen said. “But he should have called me.”
Suddenly, she whirled around to face Steve.
“Why didn’t you call me when you finished reading the letters?” she said.
“I went sort of numb,” Steve said. “I could see how much I hurt you. But I could also see that, at first, you fell madly for Bill. That just shook me to the core. I couldn’t call you while I was absorbing that. You had fallen in love with someone else.”
Gretchen nodded. He had said something she understood.
“Me too,” she said. “I read my letters before I gave them to you. It shook me to my core too. I was in love with this guy? And then I came out of it, slowly, like coming up for air. And I look back and think, What happened to me? I could have ruined my whole life with that guy. But I blame you for that. In the end, thank God, I got lucky and there were no lasting repercussions.”
Sure there are, Sandy thought, but they’re good ones. And Bill isn’t the devil. And you do care for him. And Steve understands that. He read the letters. Neither of you can erase them.
“So now there is another issue,” Sandy said. “Steve has read all the letters. What are you going to do with them?”
“I said I’d send my letters back to Bill,” Gretchen said.
Everything stopped for a second. They looked at one another, more as conspirators than counselor and clients. Finally …
“You’re kidding me,” Sandy said.
“Well, I did promise that,” Gretchen said. “But I think I’ll burn them.”
“Good idea,” Sandy said.
“Can we back up to the letters before Gretchen burns them?” Steve said. “I was angry about one thing I read. I didn’t appreciate the fact that Bill kept telling you to divorce me.”
“But I didn’t divorce you,” Gretchen said.
“And I appreciate that,” Steve said.
“At least not yet,” Gretchen said.
Steve nodded.
“Not yet,” he said. “If we ever get back together, I intend to appreciate the fact that you didn’t divorce me on each and every day. I intend to work hard to make sure you don’t ever divorce me.”
He leaned toward her.
“Anyway, I have an idea. I want to push the boundaries.” He paused again. “This is harder than I thought.” He gathered himself together. “What have we been doing here, all these months? What does it lead up to?”
He let the question hang.
“I want to go back to the weekend alone together that I talked about. I want you to go away with me for a weekend without the kids,” he said.
“Without Sandy?” Gretchen said.
“That’s funny, but yes, without Sandy,” Steve said.
Gretchen looked at him, amused.
“Please,” Steve said.
He had gotten it right, Sandy thought. “Please.” Or down on his knees. Or I beg you. Or something. But in the truest sense he had been right the first time, when he said it the most honest way and told Gretchen what he wanted. That was an issue Steve had problems with and would continue to have problems with in the future, telling her what he really wanted instead of what he thought she wanted.
Steve settled back in his chair. Now he seemed comfortable in it.
“I don’t know what I think about that,” Gretchen said. “I’d like to know what Sandy thinks, though.”
You know what you think, Sandy thought.
“What do you see now, looking at Steve?” Sandy asked.
Gretchen looked hard at Steve. She looked at him for a full thirty seconds. Look at him …
“I see a little boy,” Gretchen said. Seriously. Affectionately. Kindly. Lovingly.
It was what Sandy saw too, now, looking at Steve, the little boy in him. The macho patina had been polished off, the bluster, the false confidence. Now he just stared wide-eyed in wonder at the complexity of the world as it existed in Gretchen.
“Okay, Steve,” Gretchen said finally. “We’ll go away for a weekend. When?”
“I would suggest next weekend,” Sandy said.
29.
It wasn’t as if Sandy never learned anything of value from Heidi. Actually, knowing accounting had proved useful. Another thing that Heidi taught Sandy was that once the deal is done, shut up. Anything you add can only screw things up. So when you close a deal, wave and get out of the office.
By analogy, Sandy thought: They should go away as soon as they can. Before something can change their minds. Before Gabrielle throws a fit. Whatever. Get them to the beach as soon as you can. Even if you have to drive them.
That’s what Heidi would have done.
30.
Sandy was cleaning up her desk, paying her bills, organizing her notes. She had a desk at home, but it was easier for her to concentrate in the office where she held sessions with clients. Sitting at the desk, she had her back to the chairs that she and her clients used, as well as to the green chair, the one she kept for the marriage.
Although she was the only one in the office, Sandy had an uneasy feeling of being watched. She turned around. Of course there was nothing there, but as she looked over toward the green chair, she felt the marriage looking at her impatiently.
“Oh, come on,” Sandy said to the empty chair. The marriage was excited about the weekend ahead. And the marriage was worried about it too.
Is it my job to go away for the weekend with them, and to make sure that everything goes well? Sandy thought. It is not. I can’t tell them that they have to be together. They have to come to that conclusion for themselves, if indeed they come to that conclusion.
All I can do is give them some skills so they can create and maintain a meaningful relationship.
My work begins and ends in this office.
“Oh, stop it,” Sandy said out loud to the marriage.
The truth was that Sandy did wis
h she could go away for the weekend with them. She wanted their marriage to succeed. She had never been a neutral marriage counselor.
She knew that Steve was smart, and competent, but she worried about his ability to empathize with Gretchen. Yes, he had been learning and had made progress, but Sandy had her doubts.
She wished she’d had a session alone with Steve before they went away for the weekend, that she’d had a chance to go over his game plan. Did he even have a game plan? Perhaps he thought it would be contrived to have one. Maybe he just intended to wing it. He probably did.
The marriage was shaking its head.
“What do you want?” Sandy said.
Of course she knew exactly what the marriage wanted. It pushed her down the slippery slope. If you knew that you wanted the marriage to succeed, what was the point of paying lip service to the idea of the neutrality of the marriage counselor? What was the point of a marriage counselor? It had to be fixing the marriage. She spoke for the marriage.
Sandy picked up the phone on her desk, held it. She looked at it. She looked at the green chair, where the marriage waited, expectantly. Okay, she thought, I’ll speak for you. She dialed. It rang once, twice, three times.
“Hello,” Steve said. “Sandy?” Reading her name on his phone’s face, she guessed.
“Yes,” Sandy said. “Do you have a minute?”
“I do,” Steve said.
“So this weekend with Gretchen?” Sandy said. “Do you have any plans for it?”
“Of course,” Steve said. “I have a reservation for dinner Friday at this kind of neat place in Inverness. I think Gretchen will like it. The house I’ve rented is pretty cool, right on the beach in Stinson. The second night, I thought I’d cook. I’m hoping to impress Gretchen that I’ve actually learned how to cook. I’m bringing amazing food. And my parents are watching the kids. Gretchen is happy with that.”
Was he planning on cooking Italian? Sandy let it slide.
Not a bad plan, but this is all stuff you had to do, Sandy thought. Where was the romance?
“Do you have a present?” Sandy said.
“A present?” Steve said. “Why would I have a present? What kind of present?”
“A present for Gretchen,” Sandy said anxiously. “Aren’t you going to do something special?”
Was he crazy?
“Of course I have a present,” Steve said. “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist leading you on.”
“Don’t do that with Gretchen this weekend,” Sandy said.
“I won’t,” Steve said.
“What is it?” Sandy said.
“What is what?” Steve said.
“The present!” Sandy said. Exasperated.
Just don’t give Gretchen flowers, she thought. Don’t buy her anything, for God’s sake. But she remembered Steve’s Valentine’s Day present. There was hope.
“I made Gretchen a book,” Steve said. “It’s taken me all week. It has the best of the notes we wrote to each other our first year together. We were pretty much madly in love. I also did some watercolors to go with the notes. One is a map of our college campus, showing the places that were important to us, like the Pamplona, a coffee shop we hung out at.”
“Steve, that’s great,” Sandy said.
“You don’t trust me, do you?” Steve said.
“Nope,” Sandy said honestly.
“So do you think there’s a chance that this will all work out in the end?” Steve asked.
“What do you think?” Sandy said.
“You’re the marriage counselor,” Steve said. “The first time I asked you, you said there was a one in a thousand chance Gretchen and I would get back together.”
“I didn’t know you very well back then,” Sandy said. “I never should have said that to you. I’m not even sure I said it.”
“Oh,” Steve said. “I promise you that you did say it. It is seared into my brain. But I’m glad you did say it. It really shocked me. Blew me up. From that time on, I saw everything differently.”
There was a little catch in his voice.
“I wish you were coming with us,” Steve said. “Just in case we need you. I’m going to pretend you’re there.”
“You don’t have to pretend,” Sandy said. “If this work we’ve done is worth anything, then I’ll be there. Look for me.”
“You’re a very peculiar marriage counselor, you know that?”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Sandy said. “I’ve been sitting in my office talking to your marriage.”
Now there was a catch in her voice.
Steve laughed.
“What does the marriage say about this weekend?” Steve asked.
“The marriage thinks that Gretchen would not have agreed to go away for the weekend unless she intended to get back together with you,” Sandy said.
“I wondered if that might not be true,” Steve said.
“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t blow it all up,” Sandy said.
But Sandy had high hopes. She thought Gretchen had the matter in hand. Gretchen wouldn’t let Steve blow it up.
Steve said: “Are you going to call Gretchen too?”
“I have to ask the marriage,” Sandy said. “But I don’t think so. Bye!”
She hung up, looked at the green chair, smiled.
“Satisfied?” she asked.
The marriage smiled back.
31.
Steve was elated. Somehow it had worked, he was living with Gretchen again: the romantic weekend, the walks on the beach, the serious talks, and driving back home over the soft hills as the sun set. Gretchen saying they should live together again. Steve asking when. And Gretchen saying now, right now, you need to come home to me.
What could be more romantic than that?
Sandy looked at Gretchen. Oh, Gretchen, Sandy thought, tell him what happened.
“I’m so grateful to you,” Steve said to Sandy. “You got us to this point. You got us back together.”
Sandy didn’t reply. She looked at Gretchen. Gretchen didn’t say anything. No one said anything. Well, Sandy was the marriage counselor.
“So why now?” Sandy said, looking at Gretchen. “Why did you want to get back together now?”
“It felt like the right time,” Gretchen said.
“It?” Sandy said. “Do you mean the weekend? The drive home? The sunset over the mountain? Or now after ten months living apart it felt like the right time because…?”
“It was time,” Gretchen said. “I had a feeling that swept through me on the drive home.”
“Come on,” Sandy said. “I’ll admit that once in a while you have feelings that sweep you off your feet. But not very often. You’ve got to be extremely miserable for that to happen. And you weren’t this weekend. Why did you ask Steve to come back?”
“Because I love him,” Gretchen said, slowly, quietly.
“I agree, you love him,” Sandy said. “You’ve loved him since that English class where he explained the Elizabethan poets, even though he was a jock from California. You even loved him when he wouldn’t go back to the Snyders’ farm, and when he drove the big Mercedes and thought he was God. But you didn’t ask him to come live with you yesterday because you loved him.”
“You’re right,” Gretchen said. “But I appreciated the romantic feelings that went into making the book he gave me.”
She looked over at Steve.
“Do you see what Sandy’s driving at?” Gretchen said.
Steve shook his head.
“Steve, I wasn’t sure how much more of this you could take. How much more I could take. How long can we be apart before something happens that we didn’t see, didn’t count on? That splits us up forever. And I never thought it was good for the kids to be raised apart.”
Gretchen shrugged her shoulders and looked at Sandy.
“But I still want all the rabbits,” she said evenly. “I want every fucking bunny.”
“I know you do,” Sandy said. And you
can get them, she thought.
Steve looked at his wife, uncomprehending. He just wasn’t as swift as either of these women. But he did have other qualities.
“What rabbits?” Steve said.
“The Snyders’ farm, those bunnies. Those fucking rabbits. Those goats,” Gretchen said. “But let’s not talk about it now. I don’t want to live on a farm. I want to have an integrated life, with a partner who is a full participant.”
Spoken like an English professor, Sandy thought.
“Steve,” Gretchen said. She was emotional now. Leaning toward him. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I just couldn’t take it. There you have it. All the time we’ve been sitting here in Sandy’s office, every single session, I’ve felt hollow, injured, as if life will never be right if we can’t get it together. Like I will have lost an essential thing, the most important thing. The kids, the family. Yes, the marriage.
“But I was willing to lose all that rather than live a life that was trivial and fake, where you drove the big car and had affairs. I would rather have killed myself than that. But you have managed to actually change. A miracle.”
She looked at them both, first Sandy, then Steve. And then she smiled, faintly.
“I realize I’m leaving myself out. Yes, I withdraw. I don’t engage. I sit back. I’d rather analyze a novel than be a protagonist in my own life,” Gretchen said, and then looked at Steve.
“Just because we’re living together doesn’t mean we’re safe. There will come a time when you think I don’t love you, and everything could implode all over again,” Gretchen said. “You’re going to make mistakes, Steve. So am I.”
“I’m full of mistakes,” Steve said. “But I won’t make the same ones. I don’t look at living together as we’ve solved our issues. It’s more like we’ve been given a chance to make this work. Sandy will be here to help us.”
Gretchen looked at Sandy.
“Are you going to be here?” Gretchen asked.
“Yes,” Sandy said. “We have more work to do.”
“How long will we keep coming to see you?” Gretchen said.
Gretchen had asked it, but it was a classic Steve question, trying to put precise values on impossible-to-answer questions.
Listen to the Marriage Page 16