When Girlfriends Let Go

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When Girlfriends Let Go Page 46

by Savannah Page

Towering above me, standing on the deck of a sailboat, is my husband. One hand in his pocket, one hand resting on a long, overhead line, he’s wearing a warm smile—that same smile I see in my dreams.

  “Hey there, baby doll,” he says.

  I rapidly shake my head. “Wh—wh—I’m confused.” I pan around, trying to piece together what I’m seeing, what’s happening.

  He lets go of the line and takes two small steps forward on the deck. Both hands now in his pockets, he presses his lips tightly together. I catch his intoxicating gaze.

  “What’s going on?” I say. “What is this?”

  He rubs at the side of his nose, then holds out a hand. “Want to come aboard?”

  Completely thunderstruck, I look around once more. “Andrew, I’m supposed to be meeting a client. I don’t—” I look at the note in my sweaty hand. “I have work—”

  “I am the client, Jackie.”

  “You’re the client?” I slowly look down, feeling kind of goaded, still confused, kind of…happy?

  I look back up at my husband, grab ahold of my handbag again, and briskly nod. “Okay,” I say more to myself than to him.

  Cautiously stepping towards the boat, Andrew rushes forward and helps me climb aboard.

  “You and your heels,” he says with a laugh as I stumble my way on.

  “I didn’t exactly expect to be sailing the high seas,” I say with a nervous chuckle.

  I step down and onto the deck, Andrew’s strong hand in mine, guiding me. I meet his eyes again, and a crooked and shaky smile coats my lips. “So you’re the client?”

  “I’m the client.” His voice is low, calm.

  “This Judy person doesn’t exist?”

  “Oh, she exists.” Our hands part, his seeking refuge in his pockets, mine back to my handbag’s handles. “She’s my secretary.”

  “Your secretary,” I say through a heady sigh. “Your new secretary?”

  He nods.

  Deciding not to beat around any bush, I blurt out, “Nikki’s replacement. I heard.”

  “Worth.” Andrew purses his lips. “Mmmhmm.”

  “Lara told me,” I say, at a loss for words.

  The corners of his lips turn up. “Yeah.”

  “So… What’s this all about?” I swallow, dismissing the frog in my throat.

  I hope he can’t sense how nervous I am. Andrew’s the last person I thought I’d be seeing today. And the reason I’m so nervous is not just because he’s caught me completely off guard, not just because I’m still coming off of my nervousness over meeting a potential client, but because I’ve been waiting on a hope and prayer that Andrew and I would see each other again and have a talk. I’ve been dreaming about getting to discuss our marriage and a possible reconciliation—without divorce attorneys present. But this! This? This is coming out of left field.

  “Jackie,” Andrew says. His blue eyes are penetrating, as if they’re speaking to my soul. “It’s time I’m honest with you. Completely, one hundred percent honest.”

  Oh no. I swallow the returning frog. This is it. He’s going to admit the affair. He’s going to tell me right here, right now that he wants a divorce.

  I exhale loudly and avert my gaze to the shiny, polished deck.

  “Baby doll.” He gently lifts my chin, our eyes meeting once again. “About Nikki.”

  “Oh, no.” I clutch my stomach, suddenly feeling the urge to retch.

  “I let her go.”

  “Yeah. I know.” I rub my suddenly aching stomach. “Replaced her with Judy.”

  “Yes. And you know why?”

  I fight back the tears I can feel starting to develop and look over his shoulder. Hearing the truth is too much to bear. Having Andrew look at me, touch me, our souls feeling like they’re one once again…it’s all too much.

  “Jackie.” He touches my chin again, but I refuse to look at him. I keep my mouth clamped shut, fighting the nervous shaking of my jaw.

  “The truth is, there was a job opening in New York,” he goes on in his cool and collected tone. “A great opportunity with a solid company.”

  Oh, can’t he just get on with it! Tell the truth already, dammit! Admit it!

  “Nikki’s learned all she could at the firm, and it was time for a promotion,” he explains.

  Yeah, promotion! If that’s what you want to call it.

  “And over these past few months.” He exhales, hands back in his pockets. I keep my eyes trained on the row of masts behind him. “These past few months have been the worst of my life.”

  I look at him at last. Really? The worst?

  “Not having you in my life, Jackie…” His voice turns weak, almost feeble. “I’m empty without you.”

  I bite my tongue, staving off the tears beginning to surge forward.

  “As important as it was for me to have Nikki working at the firm, doing whatever I could to prove to you that I want you in my life is more important.” He attempts to take my hand in his, and I give in, too taken aback to shun. “You’re my wife, and you come first.”

  Still biting my tongue, I avert my eyes to the masts. It’s all I can do at this point to keep from falling into a weepy mess.

  “Look,” he says, squeezing my hand. “We’ve both made mistakes. We’ve both acted childish. I’m finished with fighting. I’m ready to fix us. I’m taking steps to make things better. Nikki’s gone, I’m here, willing to work on our marriage.” He draws nearer. “Anything it takes. Couple’s therapy, weekend trips, coming home earlier…”

  His grip turns tighter and I can’t help but look back into those piercing eyes of his.

  “But first,” he says, “we have to be honest.”

  Oh god, here it comes. He’s going to admit the affair…

  “About Nikki. I need to confess.”

  “Just get it out, Andrew,” I blurt. My voice is an octave higher than normal, the fear of the truth sneaking through.

  “She’s my daughter.”

  “What?” My hands go numb, my toes go numb, my whole body goes numb.

  Andrew closes his eyes and wags his head in disappointment. “I should have told you long ago. The instant I found out. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  “I—I—I’m in shock.” I take one step back, breaking free from his grip. I clasp a hand to my stomach, certain I’m going to retch now. “When? How? Wh—what?”

  “Twenty-eight years ago,” he says with a snort. “I was young, in college, getting my MBA…”

  “Omigod.” I bring a hand to my forehead, feeling clammy. I search for a place to sit but just end up settling on the deck right where I’m standing, legs suddenly weakened.

  Andrew instantly follows my lead, sitting next to me. “I know. Totally unexpected,” he says. “It was a one-time accident. A drunken night.”

  I gather the courage to look at him. He looks embarrassed, ashamed, his cheeks pink.

  “I didn’t know she got pregnant,” he says. “Then, early last year, this girl, Nikki, comes knocking on my door.” He pauses. “Came to the office, said she’d looked me up, her mother had passed away. Nikki’d been taking care of her mother’s things, came across her journal, and…” He shrugs. “Next thing I know I’ve got a daughter I never knew I had, standing there in my office.”

  A million thoughts and emotions are coursing through my mind, my body. I don’t know what to say, to do…

  I was somewhat prepared for an admission of an affair, but this? This! A daughter!

  “Jackie, I know I should have told you about this the second I found out. I never should have put you through the hell I put you through, allowing you to even think there was an affair—”

  “Yeah, well,” I say, finally gathering the courage to speak, “you sure led me on, that’s for sure. How could you do that, Andrew?”

  “I know, and for this I will be sorry for the rest of my life.”

  “I mean—I mean—” I look down at my hands in my lap.

  In all fairness
, Andrew had told me that he was not having an affair with Nikki. He had said he was faithful, but so does every man who doesn’t want his wife to out his mistress. What else was I to think with him being so protective of her? So insistent on keeping her as his secretary? Never in a million years could I have expected this.

  “When she came and told me,” he continues in a soft voice, “I didn’t know what to do. I mean, god, me, a father?” He brusquely shakes his head.

  “The paternity test was proof-positive,” he says in a deflated way. “Nikki was working a run-down job as a diner waitress, had just lost her mother… I did the only thing I knew how to do: I gave her a job. At first I offered to give her money—throw money at the problem, that’s what I’m good at, right?” He snickers ashamedly, giving me a sideways glance.

  I press my lips together tightly and weakly raise my shoulders in response, thinking, We’re sitting on one of those very attempts you made to patch things up.

  “But Nikki said she hadn’t come for a handout.” He cautiously brushes his fingers against the back of my hand.

  “Jackie, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just—I just—didn’t know how you’d handle it. I was worried it would ruin us. So I thought I could keep it hidden, hire her as a secretary, give her a chance—the least I could do as her father.” He sighs heavily. “Obviously everything backfired. God, please forgive me, Jackie.”

  I take a few calming breaths, trying to digest the massive amount of information I’ve just been fed. All I can do is stare at him in stunned silence.

  “Please, baby doll,” he says imploringly. “I love you. I know now how foolish my actions were, how wrong I was in keeping it from you…for defending her and letting you make such assumptions. She’s my daughter, and I’m the last person in the world who has what it takes to be a father. I didn’t know what the hell else to do.”

  “Why’d she have to be such a bitch to me?” I say, jaw clenched and eyes glossy. “Lying about you being in the office, or out at lunch…wild-goose-chases and her being so—so—so… Well, bitchy!”

  He snorts and says, “If you found out your father was married to someone your own age, you probably wouldn’t handle it very well.”

  I give a one-armed shrug. I suppose he’s right, but it’s still no excuse for the way Nikki treated me.

  “I tried to keep it from happening,” he says. “What can I say? She’s thick-headed like her father.”

  “That’s true,” I say with a muffled laugh. “So…what? Now you’re a dad? I’m what?” I swallow, a disgusted look overcoming my face, my upper lip curling. “A…mother?”

  He chuckles out a no, then says, “Not at all, baby doll.”

  “So you have a relationship with her… You going to visit her in New York… Are you going to try for some Dad of the Year Award or…” I’m rambling at this point, still so overwhelmed by this unexpected news.

  He closes his eyes for a long, heavy breath. His voice is low yet stern as he says, “No. Neither of us are looking for a father-daughter bonding thing. I think the fact that I married someone her age is too much to digest. I mean, Jackie baby, you were born when I was in grad school…”

  “Yeah, well…”

  “Nikki wanted to meet me—wanted to see…family. And I wanted to do something for her.” He sighs. “The least I could do, like I said, was give her a job. That’s the extent of my fatherly duties.”

  Suddenly, he claps a hand to his thigh. “I did give her a nice birthday present. Sent her to Hawaii on vacation. Thought that was a nice thing to do.”

  “Why, you!” I shriek, slapping him on the arm. “That’s what that was about?”

  He crinkles his brow. “Huh?”

  “Here I’m thinking you’re secretly planning a romantic vaca for us, then I think you’re running off for a mistress tryst—”

  Andrew’s chuckling, rubbing his jaw up and down. “Oh, Jackie…”

  “Not ‘Oh, Jackie’!” I’m incredulous, but a small smile—a smile of relief—glosses my lips. “I was scared to death! My imagination was running wild!”

  “Oh, baby doll. You and your flair for drama. I told you I wasn’t having an affair.”

  “What housewife hasn’t heard that one before?” I roll my glassy eyes.

  “Look, Jackie.” He takes both of my hands in his. “I love you. I love you more than you will ever know, and I will spend the rest of my life proving it, making it up to you for all of this mess, all of the neglect, all of the fights.”

  “But…why now? Why—” I look upwards, trying to abate the tears. “Why now? Three months! You cut me off, kicked me out, locked me out!” He looks off to the side in shame. “You threatened a divorce lawyer, and he never shows up. I’m panicking…waiting around… What am I to think, Andrew? Huh?”

  “We both needed some time to figure things out,” he says simply.

  “Yeah. I suppose so. But cutting me off like that, Andrew! I mean, it’s like you didn’t care about me!”

  “I know I shouldn’t have cut off the credit cards like I did when you were in Paris. I was just so angry with you. What you did, Jackie—”

  “Paris?” I gasp. “It’s not just Paris. You cut me off, period. Locked me out!”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I was angry, I was hostile. But Paris? Paris, Jackie!”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t cut me off from Dr. Pierce,” I run on, aghast. “Surprised I still had health insurance, could get my meds—”

  “I love you, Jackie. I knew you’d be fine without access to credit cards.” He holds up a hand. “Not that it excuses what I’ve done to you, but I knew you’d pull yourself up, figure things out. And look at you, baby.”

  “Still.” I cross my arms gruffly over my chest.

  “And I was never going to cut you off from your therapy sessions, your healthcare. I still love you, Jackie. Always have, always will. I’d die if something happened to you.”

  “And the divorce lawyer?” I raise an inquisitive brow.

  “I was never going to call one. Heat of the moment, rash words.” He fixes me with a steady, hard gaze. “And as for Paris,” he adds in a reprimanding tone.

  “I know,” I whisper, embarrassed about not only what I put Sophie and my girlfriends through with my lie and immature behavior, but my husband.

  “I was worried sick about you,” he says.

  “I know and I’m so sorry.” Tears sting my eyes. “I was thinking about how you’re always away on business and I’m left alone and—and—I thought I’d show you. But I know I was wrong, so wrong. What I did was—was—selfish.” I blink some of the building tears away. “It was immature and I’m sorry. I’m trying to work things out now. I’m trying!”

  I hug my arms tighter to my chest. “Oh, Andrew. We have put each other through a lot of shit. And for what?”

  “I’ve been asking myself that for three long months.”

  “Well, where do we go from here?” I look around.

  “Well, I’d ask if you’re up for a sail,” he says with a coy smile, “but I hear you have a client who needs an estimate done.”

  “Yeah, very funny.” I roll my eyes playfully.

  “I’m proud of you, Jackie. So damn proud.”

  I give him a sideways glance.

  “Look, I wasn’t joking when I had Judy call for an estimate,” he says.

  “Oh, really?” I look about the sailboat. “Design a sailboat’s interior? Andrew, I— Wait a minute, how’d you even find out about my business, anyway?”

  His lips curl into a cunning little grin. “What can I say? You and Lara aren’t the only gossipers.”

  “Worth?” I exclaim.

  “Lara gave him some of your fliers and…well…the rest is history.” He shrugs, a schoolboy expression about him.

  “Goodness.” I wag my head. “So, you’re serious? You want me to do some interior designing on this thing?” I knock on the wooden deck.

  “That’s the deal here,” he says,
standing up. “It’s my next step to prove to you I want to make this marriage work.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m really impressed with how you’re growing up and going after something you’re really passionate about. I need to respect that, need to let you do that.”

  He waves a hand about, gesturing to the impressive, brand new sailboat. “This boat is yours to decorate, Jackie. Ours to sail. I know you didn’t want it before, but maybe I can change your mind this time? Give it another shot?”

  He approaches the massive steering wheel. “I know it’s another material possession, and when I first came up with it it was another way to try to appease you, sweep anything that wasn’t Jennings & Voigt-related under the rug.” He grips the wheel firmly. “But it can be more than that. It’s a project we can both work on. Together. Like our marriage.”

  “Okay…” I narrow my eyes, intrigued; a touch of joy is growing inside.

  “You design it; I take some real time off and enjoy it with you.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “I’d like that,” I say.

  “I can’t expect you to live in a box, Jackie. I can’t expect you to be home whenever I come home—”

  “Which is always too late,” I cut in.

  “That’s the next step. You know I’m a workhorse; that’s who I am.”

  “I know.”

  “You married a man who’s been in a long-term, borderline-obsessive relationship with his career. You knew that going in.”

  “Yes,” I say with a smile, “and you married a woman in her twenties who enjoys an occasional night out on the town, a little dancing, a little fun. Not pill-popping slumbers. You knew that going in.”

  He chuckles and leans against the steering wheel. “Touché, touché. So how’s this? I make a serious, heartfelt effort to be more attentive, and you keep up the good work. You grow up, let go of that selfish side a bit—”

  “Hey,” I say, feeling nettled.

  He holds up a single finger and cocks his head to the side. “Your words, baby doll. Your words. Besides, we both have issues to work out. Let’s work them out together.”

  “Yeah, well…” I twist at my wedding ring, still feeling miffed, but not blind to the facts. “I have been acting a little spoiled and immature…”

 

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