Designing Hearts

  “Liam, our actions should never be prompted by vengeance,” Jill insisted, shaking her head. “That kind of thing wouldn’t necessarily have the effect you intend, either. If your private life somehow becomes public, it won’t even touch your father. Look what’s happened in the past week. He’s still on the air, and people are buying up those tabloids. People magazine can’t get enough of the story, and he’s trending as a top newsmaker on every Internet home page.”

  Liam frowned. “So truth really is stranger than fiction. His fans probably think it’s some kind of smear campaign. David Hennessy, all around nice guy, would never cheat on his wife!”

  “People believe what they want to believe,” Jill said and winced as the truth of that statement hit home. “The fact is, he’s been a big star for too long, and people always seem willing to forgive someone they admire, no matter what that person does. Anyway, the network will spin the news so that it makes your dad look good. That’s their job.” Jill smoothed her fingers through her hair. “If a story airs about your personal life, I’ll be sorry for your loss of privacy. But I’ll also be relieved, in a way—yes, I will,” she insisted as Liam opened his mouth to interrupt. “I’ll be relieved because you can stop worrying how your dad might react. You can live your life freely, Liam.”

  “What about you, Mom? Why don’t you take your own advice? Live your own life?”

  “I deserve that,” she said. “I’m trying. I’m just not sure what my own life looks like, but I’ll find out. I guess what I’m really trying to say is that I wish with all my heart that you and your father could have a good relationship. Surely you still love him, even if he has disappointed and hurt you?”

  Liam was silent, thinking. “You’re a good person to say that. I don’t know if I can be so forgiving.”

  “He loves you, Liam,” Jill said, moving toward him again and looking directly into his eyes. “It has always seemed to me that your dad struggles to make sense of the world, to find answers to issues that aren’t easily resolved. He hasn’t yet realized that you’re a grown man with your own life. He wasn’t always like this, believe me. When he was younger, I rarely heard an unkind or judgmental comment cross his lips about anyone. This David is not the man I married or the proud daddy who was so happy when you and Finn were born.” She let out a long breath.

  “I wish you could just say it, Mom. Maybe he was an okay guy when you met him, but he’s turned out to be a lousy husband and father.” Liam turned his face to hide the angry tears that sprang to his eyes, but he wasn’t quick enough.

  Jill saw the tears and recognized that until he met Brian, Liam hadn’t been able to express sadness without resorting to rage, or by retreating. In years past, he’d disappeared—often for days at a time. This new ability to feel and express hurt was a side of Liam she was relieved to see. Yet it had come about because of David’s bad behavior, which had been so costly to her and the family. She wasn’t sure how she felt about her husband anymore. Yet she had to acknowledge that anger, betrayal, distrust, and sadness were all present and accounted for.

  At David’s suggestion, Jill agreed to marriage counseling. Perhaps in the safety of a professional’s office, where David could feel sure of confidentiality, he might open up and tell her why he had been unfaithful. Feeling anxious, she listened to David tell her on the phone about a psychologist he already knew, someone who could schedule them right away.

  “I was referred to Dr. Barry by someone here at the network,” David told her the evening before the appointment. “I’ll meet you there at two o’clock.”

  Feeling more than a little wary, she drove into Manhattan to meet David at the office of Dr. Benjamin Barry, whose paunch and salt-and-pepper hair and beard gave him the appearance of a slightly younger, better-fed Sigmund Freud, although it was clearly a studied effect. He invited them to sit down together on the leather sofa. That created tension when Jill sat on one end, David sat at the other, and then they moved by degrees closer together. He took her hand.

  “I’d like to begin by hearing from David what has happened and where things stand,” Dr. Barry said with a kind smile. “Then we’ll ask you for your thoughts, Jill. Is that okay? It’s helpful if we can hear each other speak without interruptions.”

  She sat stiffly beside David on the roomy leather sofa and listened quietly as he talked. Despite her attempts to listen without judgment, she experienced repeated stings of disbelief and something that felt suspiciously like indignation as he recounted to Dr. Barry how difficult this entire experience had been and how many times he’d been forced to answer deeply personal questions.

  “On top of the nightmare of being in the public eye, I feel helpless that I can’t even show my wife how I feel about her because I’m not living with her now. All I want is to fix what needs to be fixed in our marriage. It’s been frustrating to be in this limbo.” He squeezed Jill’s hand meaningfully. “I feel bad about what has happened, and I want the chance to show her how much I want things to be the way they used to be between us years ago.”

  Jill remained silent as anger roiled inside her. Again, she was struck by David’s implication that his infidelity had been the result of a fissure in their marriage without explaining exactly what he meant. Beyond being offensive, this seemed to be a thoughtfully designed tactic to divert attention and blame from his choices and actions.

  “Jill, was the affair a surprise to you, then?” Dr. Barry asked. “Did you suspect anything at all?”

  She blinked. “The word ‘surprise’ is an understatement,” she said, removing her hand from David’s. “Perhaps it was trusting of me, but no, I didn’t suspect anything. Looking back, I can see that he was home a lot less often than usual, but he always had a plausible excuse. The afternoon that I found out about the affair, I could hardly believe what I was hearing. It was even worse that I learned the news on national television. Oh, and then, of course, there was the swarm of media people and paparazzi on our front lawn when I arrived home. Yes, I’d say it was a surprise.”

  She realized that her response sounded sarcastic, although she hadn’t intended for it to come out that way. It was the truth. At least, she thought, David had the good grace to look ashamed. He took a deep breath, furrowed his brow, and turned toward her on the sofa, looking meaningfully into her eyes.

  “Jill, I would have told you, but you weren’t answering your cellphone.”

  “You called my cellphone once but didn’t leave a message. You could have called the office number, but you didn’t. Then you texted me, but didn’t say we had a problem; you just asked me to call you.”

  “What kind of message could I have left you or texted? ‘Jill, our world is about to explode?’ ”

  She fixed him with a stare. “How about, ‘Jill, it’s really important that we talk as soon as possible. Something terrible has happened, and I want you to hear about it from me first.’”

  Dr. Barry’s bushy gray eyebrows lifted noticeably. “It is highly unusual for a spouse to hear the news the way you did, Jill,” he said. “I can tell how hard this has been for you.”

  Halfway through the hour-long session, as David continued talking about the pressures he endured at always being in the public eye, the lack of privacy in his life, and the constant strain of being “an authority figure to millions,” Jill began to feel strangely detached. He had been her husband for twenty-five years, but right now, he seemed more like a stranger.

  “Jill, do you have any questions to ask of David before we end this first session?” Dr. Barry repositioned the silver readers he wore perched low on his nose as he balanced an expensive silver pen between two long, slender fingers.

  “I’d just like for him to tell me why this happened. I’m trying to understand. And I’d like to hear it from him.”

  David stiffened on the couch next to her. Jill looked down at her hands, noticed the slight tremor, and anxiously smoothed her skirt, aware that they were now at a crucial moment in the counseling session. Either D
avid was willing to answer the direct question or there was no point in continuing the discussion.

  Again, Dr. Barry’s eyebrows waggled. “David?” He leaned back in his leather wingback chair, crossing one knee over the other, listening intently.

  David heaved a long sigh and slumped back against the sofa. “At some point, I think we need to get past that question,” he said. “I don’t know why it happened. I may never know why it happened.”

  Jill rose to her feet, picking up her handbag. “It didn’t just ‘happen,’ David. You make it sound as though the affair happened to you—as if you were an innocent bystander. I’ve always been there for you, no matter what you wanted in life, but you chose to have an affair, anyway. Was it just the inconvenience of the commute home to Connecticut, when Amber was so handy?”

  “Jill!” David cried out, struggling to his feet.

  “No, really, David. Perhaps you should spend some time here with Dr. Barry by yourself so you can figure out a reason for what you did. Otherwise, how do I know infidelity won’t just ‘happen’ again?” She narrowed her eyes at him, surprised at the depth of rage she felt, but more shocked that she could express it.

  He nervously adjusted his tie, fingers fumbling with the knot. “Why can’t you just take my word for it? I’ve been your husband for twenty-five years. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

  The psychologist leaned forward in his chair. “Trust really is at the heart of what we need to resolve,” he said, offering a thin-lipped smile. “Jill, I hear your husband asking for your trust. We can work on rebuilding trust, if you’re willing.”

  “Actually, Doctor, he’s not asking for my trust. You are. He’s letting me know what he expects from me, and he assumes I’ll do it. That’s how we communicate. That feels really unfair to me right now, and I don’t think I can continue doing what’s expected of me like I did before. Right now I need answers to help me understand.”

  David was silent, his jaw working back and forth. She could read in his body language that he was on the verge of losing control as his hands balled up into fists at his sides. He took a step toward her, but she fixed him with a furious look that stopped him. Jill couldn’t contain herself now as words too long unexpressed bubbled up from the depths of her core.

  “Why is it, David, that you cheated on me in the most public, humiliating way possible—hurting not only me, but our sons and our families—and yet I’m the one who will have to put forth most of the effort to fix the situation? A situation, by the way, I can’t comprehend, and that you can’t even explain. How is it that you betrayed the faith I placed in you, and then you want me to work even harder to save this marriage?”

  David frowned. “You know the pressures that come with my career, Jill. You’ve known that all along. And I haven’t ever heard you complain about the good life I’ve provided for you.”

  “No, you’re right; you’ve never heard me complain,” she said. “But I think you’ve forgotten that I’ve been a major contributor to that good life as well. I’ve worked hard, too, at a career. I’ve done it while also trying to nurture a happy, stable home life for us and our sons. Yes, you’ve been a good provider, and I certainly understand the pressures on you. I’ve had them, too. The reason you’ve never heard me complain is because I knew it was part of our marriage. Now I’m not sure I want to live with those pressures anymore.”

  She noted the shocked, disbelieving look on David’s face when he realized that progress toward a quick resolution wasn’t assured. As she left the psychologist’s office, she felt relief that she had spoken up and expressed her true feelings. She had no idea what would happen next in her life, whether she and David would return to being a couple again or whether a new life beckoned.

  On her first day back in the office the following Monday, Jill was grateful that none of her colleagues pressed for details or expressed opinions about David. Instead, they offered encouraging words and supportive hugs, and then everybody got back to work. She spent the day in her office reviewing architectural drawings, color choices, and samples of cabinets and countertops.

  “Hey, I don’t think I ever gave you information about the new painter,” Tom said, poking his head in her office doorway. “I put his résumé and some before-and-after shots from his portfolio in your inbox. I think you’ll love this guy’s work.”

  Jill, who was comparing samples of floor tiles, didn’t look up. “Thanks. I’m glad you hired him. Our other painters are either perpetually late or grouchy.”

  Before going home that afternoon, she picked up the heavy yellow envelope containing the résumé and photos of Denny MacBride, the new interior painter, and stuffed it in her briefcase. There would be time later that evening to review his information. On the way home, she stopped at ShopRite for a few groceries, nodding and offering quick greetings to people she knew as she made a pass through the produce, deli, and wine sections. Hearing whispered comments and sensing the outright curious stares in her direction, she decided to forego picking up more than one bottle of wine lest people think she’d taken up heavy drinking. Her face was hot with embarrassment, and sweat trickled down her back as she anxiously counted up the items in her basket. Fifteen was too many to go through express checkout. She quickly put back three items and made it through the express line before dashing to her car and the blessed isolation of her house.

  That night, following the late news, when her thoughts were too loud to permit relaxation and certainly not sleep, she wandered through the house plumping cushions, tossing junk mail, and replacing items on shelves to relieve the week’s clutter. She knew from experience that the feng shui principle of keeping a home in good order promoted feelings of calm and ordered thinking. Now more than ever, she needed to keep her thoughts clear and moving in a positive direction. As she worked, she carried a cup of chamomile-lavender tea with her, but kept forgetting where she put it until it grew cold.

  She wearily climbed the stairs to the second floor, intending to continue de-cluttering. Instead, her efforts derailed as she found herself surrounded by decades of memories. The walls and hall table on the second floor landing were filled with framed family photos, many from the earliest years of her marriage. Her eyes fell on one picture taken of her and David on their June wedding day so long ago. She hardly recognized the wide-eyed girl in the photograph, linking fingers with her handsome new husband. Her lips were open in a near laugh, and her face wore an expression of innocent newlywed expectation.

  Glancing at the mirror above the table, she lightly touched both ring fingers to the slightly bluish circles under her eyes. Although she observed no visible wrinkles, she noticed the slight parentheses around her mouth and the looseness around the jaw line that age and gravity inevitably brought on. Still, she looked good for her age.

  On the other hand, with the exception of the distinguished gray at his temples and the crinkled laugh lines that merely lent character to his face, David appeared much as he had on their wedding day. He was still gorgeous, still able to capture her breath whenever she laid eyes on him. A sob erupted, making her throat ache as she took the photo from the wall and held it to her chest.

  “You’re a bastard!” she told him, tears welling up and trickling down her cheeks. Angry at herself for succumbing once more to emotion, she scrubbed at her cheeks with one fist and realized that Liam was right. Throughout her life with David, she had defined herself first as David’s girlfriend, then his fiancée, and then his wife. Even the twins were David’s sons, and she was the mother of David’s sons. If she and David actually divorced, would she define herself as his ex-wife? Although she’d maintained a successful career and had enjoyable work she loved, she still thought of herself entirely in terms of who she was with David. Without David, who was Jill Brenneman Hennessy? The network, too, had made money off the package.

  Anyone without the inside scoop on the Hennessy household would be surprised at this insight. They assumed she had the perfect life. Truth be told, she had be
lieved that fantasy, too. But now her perfect life seemed little more than a sham, a cosmic joke played on her for believing in forever-after love. Even worse, the thought of starting over on her own, minus a spouse, left her feeling overwhelmed and adrift. And yet, what was the difference between being married to David and being alone? Not much, she had to admit now.

  Another serious consideration was the large, comfortable home she loved and intended to keep, no matter what happened between David and her. The house was all she had of their life together, and she wasn’t about to give it up, at least not yet. She had lovingly remodeled and redecorated it from attic to basement, applying feng shui fixes to every square inch. She didn’t need David’s salary to pay the mortgage or household expenses. In fact, she didn’t need anything from him … other than an explanation to help her understand why he had thrown away their past, present, and future on a woman whose relationship, he admitted, meant nothing to him. She wondered now if that was how he viewed women in general.

  The affair couldn’t have been just about sex; there had never been a shortage of that in their marriage. For this reason, if for no other, she had never suspected him of infidelity. Given David’s insistence that his affair with Amber was “just sex,” Jill wondered whether this was how he viewed sex, even with her. Or perhaps he had craved sex with a new woman, a younger one.

  Jill knew that if they divorced, there would be a financial settlement that would provide security in a misguided attempt to compensate her. But how did one put a price on a quarter century-long marriage, the end of a lifetime of dreams? After days of acute stress and the growing awareness that her life would never be the same—and that there was nothing she could do about it—she fell across their bed, still clutching the wedding photo to her heart. When the pain finally became too great, she permitted herself the release of healing tears until she fell into an exhausted, dreamless sleep.