Whenever I do consider Andrew coming around, though, my stomach does flips and I really wonder how on earth we’ll get back on our feet. Where would we begin? How do you heal something so broken?
Then, when I start to worry about finding ways to move forward in our marriage, even actually considering driving home and talking to Andrew, I remind myself that I’m just borrowing trouble, inventing problems. Right now Andrew still has me locked out of his life, and I’m still trying to carry on on my own. Until that reconciliation day—if that day—comes, I’ll just have to keep on forging forward. I’ll have to keep on hoping for the best, as the girls and Dr. Pierce consistently encourage.
So forging forward is exactly what I’m doing! I’m hosting girls’ night tonight, and Lara’s come over early to help with the preparation, bringing with her two sacks of groceries she insisted on picking up.
“You really did a fantastic job on redecorating, Jack,” Lara says, removing the cork from the bottle of white wine she brought over.
“Thanks. To be honest, I didn’t think it’d be all that possible, what with the small budget and all.” I stick the last finger sandwich with a toothpick. “Not to mention I’ve had a hard time holding back from splurging.” I pull at the hem of my new baby-blue and pale yellow v-neck Ralph Lauren sweater—a sweater that was not on sale and just may set me back a month on my cable bill. Luckily, with the apartment renovation pretty much finished, no longer in need of watching every DIY show, I can probably kiss cable and its bill goodbye soon.
“Jackie,” Lara says in a warning tone.
“But! When you put your mind to something, it’s pretty darn amazing what you can accomplish. I’ve barely splurged. Seriously. And look at the apartment!”
Lara gives me a smile and proceeds to open a bottle of red.
I saunter into the living room and set out the plate of sandwiches on the new coffee table. Well, it’s new as in it’s never been here before, but it’s just three old crates, like I used in the bookstore’s inventory room, all nailed together and smoothed out with some sandpaper. They still have some of the old stamping on them—from some kind of soda or beer company. To make the top of the table level I just took two old checkerboards, trimmed them to size, and nailed them down. Then, to give it an antiqued look, I sloshed some coffee all over the makeshift table, patted the liquid dry, and let the stain set. The table isn’t anything that’d make it in any of my fancy design magazines, but something you’d see on an HGTV DIY show. It’s a piece that adds to the eclectic feel I have going with the apartment. It pairs well with the swanky furniture, and mixes in with all of the new antique-y stuff and some of Emily’s older existing antique pieces, like her wine cabinet. I can’t think of anyone more eclectic than Emily; the apartment has her name written all over it.
“You’ve accomplished a lot,” Lara says. She’s got four wine glass stems situated between her fingers. I rush to assist her and we arrange them on the small table.
“The paint makes it look like I’ve done more than I have, I think,” I say matter-of-factly.
“No, I mean everything. The apartment, the job, this girls’ night. Look.” She points at the sandwich plate. “You made finger sandwiches, with toothpicks!”
“Presentation is everything.”
“I know I’ve already said it and I don’t want to make you feel like you were so low before, what with me talking you up constantly.”
I grab a knife and a grapefruit and begin slicing. “I love being talked up.” I blow her a kiss.
“I’m just really proud of you, I want you to know that.” She takes a slice of grapefruit from me and cuts it in half. “You know what would be the icing on the cake?”
My mind on thoughts of things to be proud of, improvements in my life, the way things are going… I reply with, “If Andrew swept me off my feet?” I giggle unsettlingly.
“Oh.” Lara’s voice is empty.
I turn to look at her, grapefruit juice running down my hands.
“I was talking about dessert,” she says, pulling a tight face. “The icing on the cake would be Sophie bringing dessert.”
“Aaaaand fail,” I say with a throaty laugh.
“Haven’t heard from him yet?” Lara sounds like she’s afraid to say anything about the matter.
I shrug and continue with my slicing. “Not yet, but I’m still hoping.”
“Keep hoping, honey. You’re on the uphill slope right now. I really believe things are going to keep looking up.”
“And if they don’t?” I dare to ask, not really knowing if there is an answer for this hypothetical.
“Then you keep on looking up.”
Suddenly a series of pounding sounds from the front door.
“I’m coming!” I cry, rapidly wiping my hands on the kitchen towel. I fly to the living room, and there’s Claire standing arms akimbo in front of the large windows.
“What’s this?” I can hear her shout. She points at the window and makes circles. “Love it!”
“Hey, girls!” I say, the rest of the gang charging in as soon as I open the door.
“Omigod!” Claire shrieks. “The window! I love that you got rid of those hideous old mini-blinds.” She shivers. “They were god-awful.”
Getting rid of the mini-blinds was one of the first things I did. The simple and inexpensive Roman blinds I got at a garage sale that looked like it was selling everything-IKEA are the perfect replacement.
Once the door clicks closed Sophie gasps and says, “Wow! It doesn’t make that horrid squeaking sound anymore.” She points to the door.
“Oh, yeah,” I say with a flick of the wrist, dismissing the easy fix to the grating noise the front door always made. “Turns out all it needed is something called WB-30.”
Sophie gives me a questioning look, and when I simply shrug in response she just laughs, saying, “Oh, Jackie. I love ya.”
“Wow!” Robin breathes as she slowly enters the living room. Her head’s moving up and down and all around as she takes in the unfamiliar surroundings.
“Pretty fab, eh?” I make a sweeping arm motion, showing off the place.
“Fab?” Sophie says as she lets her handbag slide off her shoulder. “This is remarkable!”
“Emily’s going to freak!” Claire says. “Freak out in such a good way. You totally did this place well, Jack. It doesn’t even look like the same apartment.”
“Amazing, hah?” Lara says, striding up behind me.
“Uh,” Claire says, “when you come visit me in Spokane, you’re so decorating my place.”
“Oh, no,” I whine, putting on my pouty face.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sophie waves off. “I’ve already cried my allotted tears for the day. Let’s not get the jump on tomorrow’s allotment so soon.”
Claire gives Sophie an apologetic expression and rubs her arm. “Sorry for mentioning it.”
Robin, coming from behind Claire and Sophie, gives them a collective hug. “Come on, girlies, let’s not get sappy yet. Wine first, tour second, gossip-fest and all that, and then the sappiness.”
“I didn’t know you had this in you,” Sophie compliments a second later as she inspects the bookshelf. I completely reorganized it and spruced it up with some knickknacks and framed pictures. “You have an eye for the pricey stuff, but this—this—” She spins around.
“It’s a lot of do-it-yourself, seeing how I had to stick to a budget,” I say.
“But it’s fabulous!” Sophie gushes.
“Come on,” I say, waving them all further in. “Grab yourself a glass of wine; we’ve got some touring to do.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
“All this for a few hundred bucks?” Robin asks, bewildered. She gawks at the bedroom with its freshly painted walls, one of which has a large section dedicated to a collection of framed photos. They’re arranged in an off-kilter way, but one that still makes your eyes follow them down and up, left to right, kind of like following a story. I chose to display a series o
f landscape photos here that Emily had taken when she was backpacking in South America. I recognized Machu Picchu in the bunch, but the rest of them were just as foreign to me as the African collection I hung in the living room, the collection of mountainscapes I arranged above the dining table, the beach photos I put together in the bathroom and on through the hallway.
I tried not to go too crazy with the photos, cluttering things up. I wanted to strike that Zen balance I know Emily’s big on. But Emily’s life is a giant passport chock-full of stamps, with brilliant photos to show for her travels. I couldn’t pass on the opportunity to look at redecorating her apartment as a chance to take a trip around the world. Anyone who walks in will feel like they’re being transported around the globe.
Maybe when Emily’s home again and she’s thinking of jetting off somewhere, she’ll take a look around here, feel comforted by all of the beautiful places, and feel right at home…at least for a while more…and willing to stick around a bit.
“It looks really nice, Jackie,” Claire says, giving me a high five. “You’ve got a knack for this kind of thing.”
“And check this out,” I say, pointing at the small, round table next to the bed. I tap on the glass. “A watercolor painting Robin did.”
“Omigod.” Robin rushes over. “I painted that years ago!”
“Back in college,” Lara says, leaning over my shoulder. “I remember you working on that, Robin.”
“Wow,” Robin says. “Em still has this?”
Spreading across the expanse of the small tabletop underneath the glass, I stretched out the watercolor I found in a desk drawer. It was signed, Robin S., and I just had to display it. The painted bird in flight, zipping between two craggy tree branches in a winter forest, reminded me of Emily and her penchant to fly free. Maybe that’s why Robin painted it for her.
I was unsure of how to hang the painting and didn’t want to damage it, but when I saw the boring old top of the bedside table Em’s had for years, I knew just what to do!
“You’ve got some talent, Jack,” Robin says. She surveys the bedroom again. Pointing up at the ceiling, she makes a puzzled face. “Wait. What’s that?” She twists and turns her head, straining her neck and squinting to figure out what’s taped to the ceiling.
“Oh, a reminder,” I say casually. I look up. “I have them in each room, actually, by each ceiling lamp.”
“What is it?” Sophie squints, trying to see for herself.
“They’re pictures I’ve cut out from magazines. Pictures of lighting fixtures I’d like to put up at some point.”
Lara whistles. “Damn, girl. You really did go all out.”
“Ha! Going all out would mean getting those fixtures actually in and not just having pictures taped up there.”
I jump on the bed and scoot up against the headrest. Grabbing a throw pillow and tucking it to my chest, I say, “I’m not completely done with redecorating, but the budget’s tired and I didn’t exactly know how to change a lightbulb, much less an entire fixture. Eventually I’ll get them done.”
Sophie moves across the room, towards the closet. “Wow!” She turns her head back and gives me a look of surprise. “You really organized this place, Jack! Closet, too?”
The rest of the girls move over to gawk at the rather impressive closet project.
“Took a giant day,” I reply, “and a lot of determination. But you’d be surprised what you can do when you want to keep your mind off your troubles.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Sophie says. “If you have a hobby or a job, you’ll be surprised at how little time you have left to contemplate problems…or anything else, half the time.”
Claire wags her head, which is still buried in the closet. “Totally,” she says. “Work, work, work, avoid the problems.” She’s rummaging about, pulling out hung up shirts and dresses, oooing and ahhing at the ones she fancies.
“You know, you work so hard and so many hours you end up forgetting all about,” Claire spins around, a peach-colored tank top pressed to her chest, “how your husband’s been in desperate need of a job.”
She looks at the shirt fondly for a brief moment before returning it. “Then he suddenly up and tells you he’s moving you out of town, and since you’re still working so hard and so many hours,” she spins back around, this time holding up a sleek, black tank-blouse, “you almost work yourself into a tizzy forgetting all about the major life changes.”
She drops the tank-blouse to her side and squeezes her mouth into a fish-face-pucker. “Then you stop for a second, for a breather, and you realize the problems haven’t gone away. They’re just waiting for you.” She heaves a sigh, shoulders drooping.
“Your news bites, Claire,” I say as I bring the pillow tighter to my chest. “Majorly bites.”
“Got news for you, hon,” Lara says to Claire as she plops down on the bed beside me. “There’s no amount of work or busy-ness that can keep your mind off of major life troubles. At some point you just cannot avoid them anymore.”
“Beg to differ,” I say in a high voice. “My life troubles are huge. H-U-G-E huge! And I’ve been getting on fine keeping myself busy.”
“Yes, but the problems are still there.”
I make a one-armed shrug and in a cavalier tone say, “Yeah, well…so…”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Lara rushes out in a calm way. “It’s important to keep on moving on with life, doing your own thing even when you feel like there’s no point or that no matter what you do things will never look up.”
Sophie gives a mirthless smile. “It’s what we women do best,” she says, looking at Claire. “Times get tough, we just slog on somehow.”
“Eventually we get a grip,” Robin says in a soft yet upbeat tone from her position on the floor, arms outstretched behind her in support. “Just remember to remain tethered to reality while you’re working through the tough stuff. You’re moving, Claire, and there’s nothing we can do about it. The more you fight it, the harder it’ll be to adjust.”
“I know,” Claire whines. She thumbs the dry-cleaner’s hanger of the tank-blouse.
“But Jackie does have a point,” Lara continues. “Look at her! She’s been on crap-overload this summer, and she’s pulling herself up by her bootstraps. She’s got a tough reality, but she’s working through it.”
“Trying,” I say with a small smile.
“Yeah, but she’s still got hope that her troubles will go away,” Claire points out. “There’s still hope,” her eyes meet mine, “you and Andrew will get back together. That hope’s got to help you keep on going. With me it’s ‘I’m moving to Spokane, and that’s that!’ It’s so depressing.” She casts her eyes down, and Sophie wraps her arms around her. “I’m up and down with it. Happy for Conner…for us…but so sad to leave.”
“Look at how you worked through not getting to have a baby right away,” Sophie says to Claire in an encouraging tone. “You thought your world was going to end if Conner didn’t hop on board that ship.” Robin, Lara, and I share a light laugh. “You worked through that just fine.” Sophie rubs a hand up and down Claire’s back. “Right?”
“I guess.” A faint smile forms on Claire’s lips. “I still want a baby, you know?”
“Don’t we ever,” Robin teases. “You know that cream blanket you made for Phillip makes four?”
Claire can’t suppress a giggle. “I admit, I kind of made that in hopes Conner would spot it and reconsider trying for a baby.”
“Oh, the motives.” Robin leans back on her elbows.
“Face the music,” Sophie says to Claire. “Things are a-changin’, and that might be tough, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.”
“I guess so,” Claire says in a small voice. “I just wish Conner could have found a job here.”
We all nod in understanding.
“We’ll come visit,” Lara says. “And you can always come here.”
Claire scrunches the tank-blouse in her hands, eyes on the floor
, and she shakes her head quickly. “Not all the time,” she squeaks out.
“No,” Lara says, “not all the time. That’s true.”
“It’ll be a great change,” Sophie says. I look at her with a befuddled expression. This coming from the girl who sees Claire as a sister? If anyone’s going to be torn up over Claire leaving, it’ll be Sophie, hands down. To be frank, I don’t know how she’ll get on without her BFF. Claire’s the girl who knows Sophie cover to back, who can actually tolerate her bossiness and quirks and dominating nature more than the rest of us ever could fathom. I pity Sophie, because I completely understand. Each time Emily leaves town or whenever Lara’s too busy at her office to come and hang out, I know that gnawing pang of loneliness. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy (except for maybe Nikki).
I rest my chin on the pillow tucked into my chest and sigh as the chatter turns to a cacophony, as it usually does when the conversation gets going and everyone’s putting in their two cents, their laughter, their takes on the story.
Thinking about how Claire will be moving shortly, I remind myself that Sophie, like myself, will be fine, because she has a great support system. She may not have her partner in crime, but she knows she’s still got a top team. She has Robin, Lara, and I, and Emily when she’s in town, to pop on by that café of hers or swing by her apartment whenever she needs us. And Claire may no longer have us down the street, but like Emily, she knows she can always give us a call, drop an email, or plan a visit.
“Everything will be fine,” Robin says. She stands up and takes a seat on the edge of the bed next to Lara, then pulls out her cell phone.
“We’ll make the most out of it,” Lara says.
“That’s what Em would say,” I say with a small smile.
“Girls,” Robin says in a melodic way, “I’ve got some fun news.” She keeps her eyes locked to her screen. “Bobby just texted. He says that it looks like Phillip’s first tooth is coming in!” She looks around at us, face aglow. “My baby’s growing up so fast!” She fakes a sniffle, then says, “Goodness, the teething stage.”
When Girlfriends Let Go Page 40