The Widow of Wall Street

by Randy Susan Meyers

  Jake broke away from her gaze, staring out the high window framing a clearing sky. “I hate looking back,” he said.

  “Yesterday is the only thing you can offer me.”

  He shrugged. “I kept thinking tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll make this stop, but if I thought about it too much, I choked.” He looked up, tilting his head back as though retrieving the past. “The panic attacks? Remember? They’re gone.”

  Perhaps his doctor should have prescribed prison long ago. “When did it start? The shortcuts.” Phoebe used the euphemism with deliberation, hoping to lead him to the real story. She needed to know how far back his schemes started. Who he was then and who he’d now become.

  He tilted his head. “It’s hard to recall, but it began—just a little bit—back in the Bronx.”

  “When you were with Uncle Gus?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Was he involved?”

  Jake’s eyes widened. “Jesus, of course not. Gus appointed himself my moral compass. No, it was only me. Then me and Gita-Rae. A shortcut here and there at first, but I needed to make more money, and then more, and before I knew it, the scheme took over and began eating me like a monster. I always meant to make it right. Always. I never wanted this.” He gestured around. “How could I?”

  “Why didn’t you try selling everything? Right away. Lived small. Been content. Couldn’t you be happy without the trappings?” For a moment, she became Jake’s wife again, helping, working to make life better and grasping at what might have been.

  “I thought I’d manage to climb out and still hold on to what I’d built. I always wanted to be the best, own the finest. Hell, it worked so long that I began to feel invincible. Fuck it. I loved being a big shot and having people hanging on my words. I constructed a kingdom. But when the bottom fell out of the economy and everyone wanted their money . . . I missed my time. I got screwed.”

  “Jake. You never built anything. You never got screwed. You screwed—”

  “Don’t you think some of those guys—like Louis, for instance—wink-wink knew?” he asked. “Big genius businessmen should remember there’s no something for nothing. And guess what? They made a hell of a lot of money off me.”

  Their brief moment of connection ended. She finally accepted that this man, this awful, morally corrupt man, this was Jake. This had always been Jake.

  “Perhaps some people, like Louis, convinced themselves to believe in the impossible, but that’s more than irrelevant. Jake. I don’t care how old you are—if you live to be a hundred, atone for your sins until you take your last breath. Face your crimes. Teach the illiterate prisoners to read. Write letters of remorse. Give away your organs. Sell your true story and let the money go to the victims. Make amends. Somehow. I can’t offer you anything but that advice. And I can give you nothing more except the past.”

  Phoebe walked around the table. Aware the guards watched, not caring if they chastised them—sure this was their last time together—she took Jake’s hand and without words, urged him up to stand with her. “I left a package for you with the guard. A box with the letters we wrote when we tried to kill ourselves. And all the letters you’ve written me since you’ve been locked up. You can hold all the sadness now.”

  Prison cloth scratched her cheek as she laid her head against his chest for the last time. Jake was thinner, but he still felt like Jake. That his essence endured foretold his future.

  The day she’d removed her wedding ring and given it to the federal government, she thought her life had ended.

  After Noah died, she had wanted to follow him.

  After Jake’s confession, Phoebe had become two-dimensional, a photo that faded more each day. Now, leaving the last vestigial remains of that hologram in prison with Jake, she walked out of the visiting room and didn’t look back.

  • • •

  Twenty miles away from Ray Brook, Phoebe stopped crying. The scent of coming snow and pine drifted in when she rolled down the window.

  They’d all experienced agony from Jake’s sins: the children, the family, and every investor. But for the first time, she knew—not with forgiveness, but with the gratitude of knowledge—that he’d also suffered by spending a lifetime waiting to be uncovered. But then he became lucky. His unveiling brought torrents of hatred, but prison blessed him with protection from the stares of an angry public, the pain of his shattered family. In prison he held fast to his pretense of importance.

  In Ray Brook, Jake was a big shot.

  Being a hotshot, no matter the venue, remained his top goal. She’d find a resting place for her lost marriage. How soothing it would be if love died retroactively. What did her mother say? “If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

  Wallow enough, and you sicken of swimming in self-pity. Phoebe would stop indulging in heartbreak. She could choose to believe that Jake loved her in his limited fashion, or suppose that loving anyone was impossible for him. She’d select her reality, understanding it would be the most mutable of decisions.

  Someday she’d allow remembrances to float in without chastising herself. She’d loved Jake before comprehending he was part golem, a self-created Frankenstein. He’d always built walls around his center, ensuring a place she couldn’t reach. Now she knew that her frustration had been well founded.

  Love didn’t die with death. Noah would always be with her. She prayed the pain might lessen, making more room for the tender memories of her son. She’d always be his mother. Unlike marriage, with children, death did not part.

  Jake had been her family, and now he wasn’t. For too long, she considered him either a dominant father or an unruly child. Holding and caring for him as such had chained her to her vows. But a husband wasn’t a child or father. He couldn’t grip your heart forever.

  Phoebe might mourn the chimera of Jake, like missing fairy tales and once-loved mirages. Feelings could remain, like phantom limbs after amputation, but she couldn’t lean on recollections of love one more day.

  Jake’s success had led her to believe she’d secured the right to wear silk and cashmere, to spend twenty thousand dollars the way her mother might have spent twenty. But she’d learned that nobody was guaranteed anything; nobody earned the right to such enormous riches. Reaching that level usually meant you hit a fluke, were born to it, or cheated.

  Jake thought he could straddle the world on other people’s legs. He paid a price, but not high enough. No price could be high enough to pay for Noah’s death. Phoebe wasn’t sure what Jake’s missing pieces were; she knew only what he’d squandered and the lessons he’d never learned.

  Rich people thought themselves special, but in truth, they simply possessed extra layers of insulation against the winds of misfortune.

  Perhaps Phoebe could allow herself thoughts of a life that held more than survival. Of a future where she’d be there for her daughter. Her granddaughters. The women of Mira House.

  Phoebe could atone for her blindness.

  Quiet overwhelmed her. She slipped a Leonard Cohen mix Ira had made for her into the CD player. The moment “Dance Me to the End of Love” began, she turned up the volume and allowed one more round of tears to pour forth.

  When the song ended and “Hallelujah” began, she dried her tears. She thought of those who still surrounded her. The reasons she had to wake. She remembered the most important lessons of life.

  Fortunate are those who can dry the tears of others.

  Blessed are those who can hold their family and friends close.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  The Widow of Wall Street touches topics close to me, including knowing when to question that which seems too good to be true. Fighting to stay above water; balancing love, money, family, and friends; finding the line between trust and watchfulness; and then staying in line with what we know to be doing the right thing—these are struggles we all face at one time or another.

  Thus, I thank my mother for teaching me dedication to work, and for scaring me with the warning, �
�Always pay yourself first!” Early on she learned the lessons of being alone and broke. I didn’t always follow her rule, but at least I felt guilty when I ignored her. I thank my grandmother for teaching me the value of kindness. And I thank the books crowded on the shelves of the Brooklyn Public Library for teaching me right from wrong when I was a child and needed guidance. I tried to bring all these lessons together when writing this novel.

  Many people supported me while writing The Widow of Wall Street, but none more than Stéphanie Abou, the best agent possible. She has been my wise, warm, and determined agent and friend from the beginning.

  Atria Books provides a supportive environment for authors. Judith Curr’s wisdom and love of books shines through, and I thank her for giving me a place in the Atria family. Rakesh Satyal is an extraordinary editor—he improves everything he touches, and I am grateful to be working with him. Loan Le is a fount of reliability, warmth, and intelligence. Lisa Sciambra and Tory Lowy’s dedication is apparent daily. Hillary Tisman might be the hardest-working woman in publishing. I appreciate all the Atria staff more with each book. Philip Bashe performed miracles with my mountains of errors and brought his special expertise to the pages.

  Ben Bruton, from Ben Bruton Literary, is passionate in his work and with his support—how lucky I am to have found him! Artist Rodrigo Corral brought my dream to life with his astounding cover art.

  Nancy MacDonald is a friend, a genius, and a rock of stability. She improves everything she touches. Rose Daniels built a website that makes me grateful for her every day.

  I would be lost without my writing circles. Ginny Deluca provides faith when my own is lacking. Melisse Shapiro keeps me safe during my worst moments and laughing afterward. My life would lack a center without these women. My beloved and forever writing group—Nichole Bernier, Kathy Crowley, Juliette Fay, and E. B. Moore are four of the wisest, warmest (and when need be, strictest) women in the world. The ever-brilliant Ann Bauer read my work in full draft—offering not just phenomenal suggestions but belief when my own was lacking. Novelist and cookbook author Jane Green has been a dear friend since I met her—and now she’s shared a beloved cupcake recipe to go out to the world with my book!

  To my cherished and trusted writer friends—bless our virtual water fountain: my dearly loved Chris Abouzeid, Christiane Alsop, Robin Black, Jenna Blum, Cecile Corona, Ellen Meeropol, Becky Tuch, and Julie Wu—you are all way beyond talented and loving.

  Heartfelt thanks to the GrubStreet Writer’s Center of Boston—especially Eve Bridburg and Chris Castellani—for bringing writers together and making dreams come true. Real-life hugs to everyone in the fabulous online Fiction Writer’s Co-op, with a special shout-out to Cathy Buchanan for putting us all together and Catherine McKenzie for keeping us that way.

  Thank you Nina Lev for listening to me agonize and offering “walk” therapy; Kris Alden for telling me which authors I should be reading; and to Stephanie Romanos for being the best road companion possible. And special thanks to a group of writers who energized me when I needed it: Gina Bolvin, Marshall Findlay, Jack Gleason, Thomas Hess, Liz Kahrs, Marlene Kim, Suzanne Lipsky, Ann-Marie Rothstein, Sherrie Ryan, Peter Scanlon, and Sylvia Westphal.

  Deep love and thanks to my family, including sisters of my heart, Diane Butkus and Susan Knight. I bask in the love of my cousin Sherri Danny, sister-in-law Jean Rand, and brother-in-law Bruce Rand.

  Thank you to those who own my heart, who offer comfort, joy, and understanding: my children, Becca Wolfson, Sara and Jason Hoots, my granddaughter, Nora Hoots, and my sister and best friend, Jill Meyers—you are all so sweet, loving (and funny!). And again, the love of my life, Jeff Rand, the very best man I know.

  Readers Club Guide

  The Widow of Wall Street

  This reading group guide for The Widow of Wall Street includes an introduction, discussion questions, and ideas for enhancing your book club. The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book.

  Introduction

  When Phoebe met Jake Pierce as a teenager, she knew he was a go-getter; he always said they’d be partners. As he creates a thriving financial dynasty, Phoebe trusts him without hesitation—unaware he is paving a path of deception.

  When she learns her husband’s triumph and vast reach rests on an elaborate Ponzi scheme, her world unravels. Jake’s crime is uncovered, opening up speculations, which the world obsesses over. Did Phoebe know her life was fabricated by fraud? Was she an accomplice in this scheme?

  Addressing issues of trust and love, The Widow of Wall Street depicts Phoebe’s struggle as she sets out to redefine her life after her perfect world crumbles.

  Topics and Questions for Discussion

  1. How did the first chapter establish Phoebe as a character?

  2. Phoebe remarks to Jake as they discuss their parents’ marriages: “You make marriage sound horrid. Like a game.” He responds with, “The game of love, baby. Everything in life is some sort of contest, and everyone wants to be a winner . . . You and I, we’ll always win.” What did Jake mean by this statement? Was his belief apparent in his actions throughout the book?

  3. Describe Phoebe’s relationship with Jake in college.

  4. Phoebe and her college professor Rob Gardiner embark on a whirlwind relationship while she is still dating Jake. What impact does the professor have on Phoebe’s character and some of her actions?

  5. Why did the author decide to write Phoebe and Jake’s story chronologically? Could the author have chosen a different method?

  6. What might have been a reason for Phoebe to attempt to pass off her child as Jake's? What did you think about her actions?

  7. As the doctor is examining Phoebe at the hospital, she realizes that her “humiliation had no endpoint.” How did the author portray Phoebe’s humiliation in this scene?

  8. Discuss the structure of the novel. What is the purpose of having chapters that alternate between Phoebe’s viewpoint and Jake’s viewpoint?

  9. How does Jake view the Club?

  10. At one of their functions, Phoebe, at Jake’s request, talks up his work to some of the potential clients’ wives (p. 106). How would describe her actions? If you were in her place, would you do the same thing for your husband?

  11. When Jake stops by the Cupcake Project, he says to Phoebe’s co-workers: “I planned on taking my wife for a glass of wine before we went to the synagogue dinner. Who knew I’d be interrupting the Sara Lee sweatshop?” What do you sense in Jake’s tone? What does it say about his character?

  12. Phoebe recalls quotes from a copy of The Feminine Mystique: “It is easier to live through someone else than to become complete yourself,” and “The only way for a woman, as for a man, to find herself, to know herself as a person, is by creative work of her own.” How do you see these quotes apply to Phoebe’s present life?

  13. How do you think Phoebe was able to keep grounded while Jake lost himself to the greed?

  14. Phoebe tells Ira at lunch, “Everyone acts differently when they’re with their husband or wife.” She doesn’t seem to believe in her own words—do you?

  15. When Jake admits his crimes to his family, did you expect the reactions that occur? What did you think about Kate’s reaction specifically? Whose side are you on?

  16. People accuse Phoebe of being involved in her husband’s schemes. What led to Phoebe’s ignorance? Should she have known?

  17. “Love and lying coexisted, she supposed.” Do you agree with Phoebe’s supposition? Why or why not?

  18. What pushes Phoebe past the point of forgiving her husband? Are you surprised by the catalyst(s)? Should she have left her husband sooner?

  19. Did the ending satisfy and bring closure? Were you imagining something completely different? What do you think happens after the close of the book?

  Enhance Your Book Club


  1. Three years into their marriage, Phoebe and Jake’s relationship has shifted somewhat. How did their lives change? Is this change inevitable in all marriages?

  2. “Katie and Noah didn’t want to relate to her in that constant way of little kids anymore—but they wanted her there and available at all times. Like a lamp. Perhaps you didn’t need to turn it on every minute, but you sure as hell wanted to know that the moment it got dark, you could. Maybe Phoebe was fooling herself, but teaching children how to fend for themselves every now and then seemed part of the parenting job.” Do you agree with how Phoebe views being a parent? Is this a philosophy you have taken when raising children?

  3. While Kate and Noah, like their mother, begin to show interest in humanitarian efforts, Jake is displeased: “He didn’t slave so that his kids and wife could grime away down there while he came home to an empty house. He’d be damned if the three of them went off to save the world with cupcakes and basketballs, while he looked like Scrooge counting money in the back room.” Later, Phoebe and Jake also argue about Noah’s future, differing on their idea of a good life for him. Do you think this is a common argument between parents? What do you think of Jake’s thoughts? What values are important to you versus the ones important to society? Discuss with your book club.