Marielle was astonished at how well contemporary and traditional melded to make the décor both stylish and welcoming. She would have expected to see wood walls in this type of cabin, the same wood as the floor, the ceiling and the exposed beams. Instead, she found drywall painted in a neutral color she would have described as a mix of gray and beige, one she would never have picked but had to admit turned the walls into the perfect backdrop for the colorful artwork that added warmth here and there. The slick leather of the couch and love seat seemed cold in color at first sight, but the throw pillows in bold reds and yellows made them look rather comfortable. The wooden steps of the staircase were paired with a modern stainless steel railing. The rustic wood pedestal of the dining table was topped with a round glass surface. She wasn’t done studying the dichotomy of the oddly cozy house when Audrey offered her a glass of wine on her way to the sofa, which she took. Marielle glanced out the window to make sure Felix and Ralph were still staying out of trouble and, satisfied, she then took a seat beside Audrey on the sofa rather than the love seat across from her.
“You have a very lovely home,” she said.
“Oh, thank you. I love it here,” Audrey said as she sat sideways with her leg under her and her arm on the back of the sofa so she could face her guest.
Marielle copied her posture and took her first sip of the rich red wine. Notes of blackberry, dark chocolate and oak submerged her taste buds, and she closed her eyes in delight before swallowing. “Oh my God. This is divine.”
When she opened her eyes, Audrey was smiling at her, obviously sharing her enthusiasm for the wine. “It really is. Thanks for sharing it with me.”
“Thanks for inviting me to share it with you.” Marielle focused on the glass in her hand and turned it slowly, enjoying the sight of the deep red liquid coating the sides before taking another sip.
Audrey also drank some of her wine before asking, “You called Felix ‘Felix Pomerleau’ earlier. That’s your husband’s last name?”
“Yes, it is.”
“That sounds French, though. I thought he was from Connecticut.”
“Hartford, yes. He was born there, but his parents are from here. They moved to Connecticut in the late sixties.”
“I see.” Audrey seemed genuinely interested.
Marielle didn’t need more probing to continue. “A lot of families from this region moved down there back then to work in the construction industry. Some stayed; some came back after a while. Sam was sixteen when he came back with his parents. His older brother was nineteen and had a good job already, so he stayed behind. We don’t see him much.” She savored another sip of wine, imagining the red liquid coating her mouth the same way it did the sides of the glass. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this relaxed. She didn’t protest when Audrey refilled both their glasses. “It’s too bad because he has two kids just a little older than Felix, a boy and a girl. So Felix has cousins out there that he’s met what? Two or three times at most.”
She didn’t talk because she felt as though she had to fill the silence. She talked because it was easy, sitting with Audrey and drinking delicious wine on a Tuesday night. She talked because Audrey listened, a role that was usually hers. “When I was growing up, the house was always full of cousins I could play with. Like Felix, I was an only child, but my aunts and uncles all had three of four kids each. They were all older, but they included me in their games. It was fun. I learned a lot from them.” Marielle hadn’t thought of that time in her life in a very long time. The memory reminded her that she hadn’t always been this lonely and made her nostalgic and hopeful all at once.
“I bet it was. Are you still close with them?”
“No, not really. We see each other at Christmas or other family gatherings, but we’re all busy with our own families.”
“I see. Well, Felix is welcome to come here and play with Ralph any time he wants. It’s not the same thing as a cousin, I know, but they seem to get along pretty well, don’t they?”
They laughed, and Marielle felt drawn to Audrey’s features. Her golden, silky, blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, not a single strand out of place. Her light skin was unblemished, flawless. Her beauty was mesmerizing, almost intimidating. Yet her smile, her dimples and those eyes getting slightly glossy from the wine and sparkling in the soft light of the living room were soothing, welcoming. Just like her home, Audrey’s looks were a dichotomy of their own. Marielle didn’t understand how she could feel so at ease with Audrey, so comfortable in her own skin. She usually felt very self-conscious in the presence of other women. They were always skinnier, had better skin and better hair and were more beautiful than she was in every possible way. That’s what she told herself anyway. She felt ugly, fat and judged. Sitting here so close to Audrey, she knew the blonde was undeniably more attractive than she ever could dream of being, yet something about her beauty was humble, unthreatening. Something about the way those blue eyes looked at her and the way she seemed so interested in what Marielle had to say made Marielle feel like the beautiful one, like the most fascinating person who existed.
When tears suddenly welled up in her eyes, Audrey looked alarmed. She took her hand, and for the second time Marielle was stunned that she didn’t tense up at the physical contact. The hand was warm, comforting.
“What’s wrong, Marielle? Is it something I said?”
She quickly wiped the tears out of her eyes with her free hand, making no attempt to take the other one out of Audrey’s, where it was now being slowly caressed by a gentle thumb. “No, no it’s not you. I’m sorry, it’s so stupid.” She laughed nervously. Great, she thought, now she thinks I’m crazy.
But Audrey smiled tenderly and put her other hand on top of Marielle’s. “What is it?”
With both of Audrey’s hands now enclosing hers in their warmth, Marielle felt safe, and the wall she knew was there but barely acknowledged anymore crumbled around her. She took a deep breath and spoke cautiously. “It’s just that Felix may not be the only one in need of a friend.” Audrey didn’t pull away as Marielle feared she might. She just kept listening. “It may sound silly, but I feel like I can really talk to you, and I’ve never felt like that before. You see, I’m usually the one doing the listening.”
“But you have stuff you need to say too, don’t you?”
Marielle snorted a laugh. “God, that’s the understatement of the decade. I wouldn’t even know where to begin, to be honest. But I think I want to. I’ve never wanted to or felt like I could before. I don’t know if it’s the wine, or your house or just you.” She paused then, her attention entirely on Audrey. She knew it was Audrey. Marielle didn’t know why, exactly, but she knew this woman was special. “I just feel like I could talk to you about anything and everything. But I don’t want to scare you away. I mean, we don’t even know each other, for God’s sake, and here I am asking you to be my friend like we’re in third grade.”
It was Audrey’s turn to laugh. “I don’t scare easily, Marielle. And how are we going to get to know each other if we don’t start somewhere? I’d be thrilled to be your friend and to listen to you when you need to talk. Anytime. And how freaking convenient is it that I’m just next door, right?”
They laughed together this time, and when Audrey finally let go of Marielle’s hand, it immediately became ice-cold, and Marielle missed the warmth.
They kept talking about lighter subjects like their work, Felix, and Ralph. They took turns checking out the window on the boy and the dog, who were still playing in the yard. Marielle thought there would be plenty of time to discuss her failing marriage with her new friend. Right now, she was just overwhelmingly pleased and grateful that this person had entered her life. Just at the right time, she knew. She didn’t completely understand how and why she knew, but she did know.They finished the bottle of wine, and when Marielle looked at her watch, it was eight thirty, past Felix’s bed time. “Oh shit, I really have to go. Shit.”
Audrey seemed ju
st as disappointed but didn’t argue with her. “Okay. I should probably go walk Ralph anyway. Thank you so much for sharing this bottle with me, Marielle. You probably saved me from a headache.”
They giggled, and Marielle followed her to the door. Before she left, she put her arms around Audrey’s neck and pulled her into a hug, shocking herself. “Thank you. So much,” she whispered almost directly into Audrey’s ear before releasing her. “Good night. I’ll talk to you soon.” And just like that she left before Audrey could answer, suddenly a little embarrassed but mostly perplexed by the hug and the sensations it stirred inside her.
* * *
“What the hell is the matter with you, Audrey Eriksson? The woman is straight. Straight and married,” she muttered to herself again, like a mantra. Every time she spoke, the small dog at the other end of the leash turned to her with his dark, round eyes, like two shiny, black marbles, and she could swear he agreed with her, even adding that she most definitely belonged in the psychiatric wing of the hospital if she thought for one minute anything could happen with Marielle. “You’re right, Ralph. She wants a friend. We can only be friends. I can deal with that.”
As if on cue, the dog started panting, showing his black lips and his teeth with his pink tongue hanging out, an expression Audrey always thought made him look as though he was laughing. Right now it made him look as though he was mocking her. “Oh shut up, silly mutt! I can handle it, I said.”
Because Marielle had left her house at sunset, Audrey chose to stick to the small path at the entrance of the park for their evening walk. The paved trail was more crowded than the one she preferred, but it was well lit by several lampposts. It snaked through a small wooded area away from the river and the falls, and she could walk all the way to the end and back in about twenty minutes. It would have to do this evening. She was glad she’d decided to wear her fleece jacket, because although temperatures during the day had been in the seventies so far this May, the nights were chilly. She liked that about the weather in this region. Even during the summer, the nights were usually cool enough to sleep comfortably with a fresh breeze blowing through an open window. It had been a welcome change from the suffocating summer nights of Manhattan, where she wouldn’t have survived without air conditioning.
Audrey tried to focus on the wind gently kissing the budding trees around her and on the many people and dogs they met on the path, walking or running past her as she absently nodded hello. She tried to take deep breaths and let the pure country air appease her as it always had before. But she couldn’t keep her thoughts away from Marielle and how touched she’d been by the woman’s vulnerability. Audrey felt as though she wanted to hold her and protect her. She didn’t even know what was causing Marielle’s pain, but she wanted to make it all better. As if she had any power over whatever was causing it.
“Get over yourself, will you?” She took another deep breath, and instead of finding the peace she was seeking, her heart raced at the memory of Marielle’s full breasts pressed against her before Marielle had ran from her house. Audrey could still feel Marielle’s breath tickling her ear from when she’d thanked Audrey so intimately at the door, sending waves of electricity through her whole body. Her fingertips were still fully aware of Marielle’s hand, plump yet delicate and so soft, nestled between her own two hands.
“She’s straight, for fuck’s sake. Straight and married.” This time she mumbled it through her teeth with more violence. “And they have a child together,” she added. She looked down to check if Ralph had anything to contribute, but he was busy sniffing around the ground, getting ready to do his business. “Great,” she complained so only he could hear, “you couldn’t do that in front of the trash can twenty feet earlier, could you? You had to make sure I would carry my little bag of shit as long as possible, huh?”
Ralph crouched and looked at her as if asking for her to turn away and give him some privacy, so she did. She got the plastic bag out of her jacket pocket, and when she felt the leash move again, she bent over to take care of her responsibility as a dog owner, the only one that still bothered her and always would.
Still bent over, she heard steps running toward her and a deep “Hey, Audrey!” before she stood back up and came face-to-face with Michel Quirion, director of sales at the factory. Perfect timing, she thought as she discreetly held the bag behind her back. Obviously out for his evening run, Michel kept jumping up and down in front of her as he talked, keeping his heart rate up. He was wearing tight activewear, and sweat made a darker V on the front of his light gray T-shirt. His light brown hair was wet and his face was red, but Audrey could still recognize the attractive health freak beneath them.
“We’re looking forward to seeing more of you at the factory,” he said with a flirtatious smile.
“What? What do you mean?”
“Didn’t Dale tell you?”
Dale Stewart was her immediate supervisor. He had a tendency to make decisions that affected her directly without giving her a heads-up, so she wasn’t surprised that she had no idea what Michel was referring to. “No, Dale didn’t tell me anything. What’s going on?”
Michel finally stood still, and Audrey was grateful because the constant up-and-down movement was making her dizzy. “Well, since things have been going so well with you working from here, we decided to hire a few more account managers. They’ll be housed in the offices of the factory. As you can imagine, our organization as a whole would save a lot of money if we could spare a few Manhattan salaries.”
He winked at her, and she smiled, finally understanding why upper management had agreed to her transfer. She was an experiment. A successful experiment they hoped to duplicate to save money. It made sense, she had to admit.
“I see. But what does that have to do with me spending more time at the factory?”
“Well, we need someone to train these newbies, don’t we, now?” He winked at her again and patted her on the shoulder. “Talk to Dale. He’ll go over the details. We expect you next week. Good night, Audrey.”
He started running again, leaving her with a big question mark on her face. “Next week? Wait!” She raised the hand she’d kept behind her back in an attempt to get his attention, the plastic bag dangling in the air. But Michel was already out of sight, and a few passersby stared at her, puzzled. Flustered, she speed-walked to the nearest trash can and got rid of the bag. She kept walking faster toward her house and grunted with frustration. “Fabulous. So much for my peaceful little life in the country.” It was being disturbed in every possible way. Ralph had to run by her side to keep up with her pace.
* * *
Marielle woke up when she heard the pickup truck in the driveway and glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was almost three in the morning. She heard Sam close the front door in an unusually quiet way, and his light steps slowly approached the bedroom. She remained on her side, eyes closed, acting as though she was still asleep. Only when she felt his weight on her side of the bed did she finally open her eyes. Sam sat there, looking at her with a blank stare. It was routine for him to have a beer with the guys after the game, but he never came home this late. He didn’t appear to be drunk though, which reassured her. The smell of beer on his breath was light at best.
“I’m sorry I woke you,” he whispered.
He was still fully dressed and was just sitting there, as though he had more to say but was searching for the right words.
“It’s okay, I’m not going in until eight. I can go back to sleep.”
“Good.”
She kept looking at him, waiting for him to say more. When nothing came, she closed her eyes, wondering how long he was going to sit there and unsettled by his behavior.
“I was at Marc-André’s. We had a beer, and we talked.”
She opened her eyes again, confused. “Oh. Is everything okay with Suzanne and the kids?” Marc-André was Sam’s oldest friend. He and Suzanne had started dating at the same time she and Sam did, and the four of them had
gone on several double dates at the beginning of their relationships. For a while the girls would go watch the boys play hockey to cheer them on. Marielle was the first to stop going. Years ago. She didn’t like hockey, and she didn’t relate to Suzanne. Sam, however, still hung out with his friend on a regular basis, and they worked together at the factory.
“Yes, everything is fine with them. We were talking about us, Marielle. Me and you.”
“Oh, I see.”
The silence that followed seemed to last for days. They stared at each other. So it was out. Their failure. Sam had been the first one to crack under the pressure. She wanted to feel resentment toward him for spilling their secret, but how could she? The silence persisted like a brick wall between them.
Finally, Sam announced in an unexpectedly detached tone, “I’m going to crash at their house for a little while. They have an extra room in the basement.” He stood up and grabbed a duffel bag out of the closet and started to fill it with clothes.
The moonlight was faint in the bedroom, so Marielle offered, “You can turn on the light, Sam.”
“Nah, it’s okay. If I miss anything, I’ll come back for it.” He opened the top drawer of the dresser to take the boxer shorts she’d neatly folded just yesterday.
“What should I say to Felix?” Her question contained no accusation. She just wanted to know. She wasn’t really sure what this temporary move would ultimately lead to, but she still knew they had to agree on what they would tell their son.
He turned to her and sighed. Not out of frustration as had so often been the case recently, but out of sadness. “For now tell him I’m away on business and I’ll be back this weekend. We’ll figure out what we want to tell him by then. Okay?”
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