by Maren Cooper
“And?” Jess whispered.
“And, yes, I’m leaving you. The marriage isn’t working for me, and I’ve told you that. But, honestly, I think the two are interlinked. This just feels like the right thing to do.”
“The right thing for you to do, Arthur, but is it the right thing for the rest of us?” Jess willed herself not to cry, and took a long, hard look at her husband, trying to find the man she had loved for so long.
“Someday, we’ll look back and realize this was for the best.” Arthur shifted his weight to stand taller, away from Jess. “It will all work out.”
Jess thought how easy it was for him to say that. Speak for yourself—we’ll see how everyone else ends up feeling about it.
Then Arthur called a taxi and left for good. His appointment in Portland had been formalized six weeks earlier. His final two suitcases, already packed and hidden away, were now gone.
And with that, Jess’s golden family was no more.
Claire and Diane arrived twenty minutes later.
“How are you holding up?” Claire asked, searching Jess’s face while Diane hugged her tightly in greeting.
Jess broke free of her friend’s embrace. “OK, OK. I promise we can talk about everything later, but right now I’m so tired, all I want to do is sleep.”
They tucked her into her bed and announced that they would wake her in two hours. She heard the elves stripping bedding and starting laundry before she drifted off.
The clang of pots and pans woke her, and she found them making a mess of her kitchen. Grocery bags and foodstuffs lay helter-skelter on every countertop.
“What are you two doing to my kitchen?” Jess asked, hands on her hips, smiling slightly.
“Making a very complicated dinner. Where are your cutting boards?” Diane was opening cupboards.
“Osso bucco. You’ll love it. How was your nap? You actually had ten minutes left.” Claire shared a look with Diane. “Should we let her help?”
“I will be helping, thank you.” Jess pulled open the sliding drawer for cutting boards and cookie sheets. “This is probably the only way I’ll get to eat today.” Her phone beeped from the charging station in the corner office. She walked over and quickly read a text from Beth, safe back at school, and saw that she had missed Tom’s.
“Hang on, you two. Don’t do anything complicated until I’m back.” She stepped to her computer and composed a quick e-mail. She had started an e-mail loop with the kids at the beginning of the school year every Sunday night, and this was clearly not a night to miss.
Then, amid the comforting tasks of chopping vegetables and putting groceries away, the three women helped to restore some sense of order to Jess’s life. After Claire handed her a glass of wine, Jess felt ready to talk about the weekend. “I think that may have been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”
“I’m sure you did it as well as anybody could, Jess. How did they take it?” Diane coaxed her friend.
“Hard to say. They were shocked, sad, confused, unsure of what it means—all to be expected. They wanted to spend some time together, just the two of them, which I think was a good thing.”
“And Arthur?” Claire asked.
“He dropped the ball. He promised he would tell them there was another woman in the picture.” Jess caught a stray onion wedge about to fall off the counter.
“And he didn’t?” Diane asked.
“No, damn him. He defended himself to me later by saying, ‘Nobody asked.’”
“Well, maybe that was more than they could take in right now.” Diane collected the chopped veggies in a bowl.
“Maybe, but I know they’ll both struggle with the why.” Jess shrugged.
Claire sipped her wine. “It’s really not part of Arthur, though, is it, to talk about real stuff that way?”
“It doesn’t seem so. But I can see why you wouldn’t want to be the messenger, Jess,” Diane offered.
Jess walked over to turn on the gas stove in the family room. “The good news is, Stanford and Brown both have excellent student counseling services. I asked the kids to consider a visit or two so they can at least have a safe place to talk about their questions and worries. But I don’t know that they’ll do that.”
As if I have the foggiest idea what any of us will do now, she thought.
Chapter 22
Two weeks later, Jess woke with a shiver and sat bolt upright. She looked around to get her bearings. At least she no longer felt for Arthur’s body for reassurance after a bad dream. That was progress. But she now slept in an empty house and needed lamplight in several rooms to keep her from feeling abandoned.
Trixie, her kitten houseguest, meowed in protest as she disrupted the warm spot she was molded to on top of the covers, nestled behind Jess’s knees. She grabbed her cozy cashmere robe from the foot of the bed and felt for her slippers.
The day before, Jess’s neighbor Dot had appeared at Jess’s door in a panic. Her mother was in the final stage of an aggressive cancer, and she and her husband and their daughter, Mariel, had been called to the bedside, leaving Mariel’s new kitten, Trixie, without care. “It will just be for a few days,” Dot had assured Jess.
Cuddling Trixie, Jess made her way down to the den, turned on the gas fireplace, and arranged herself and the cat on the down-filled sofa. As she passed the clock, she was pleased to see that it was nearly five a.m. Another sign of progress—she had made it past three a.m.
Jess tried to focus on what had disrupted her sleep. She was dreaming about Arthur almost every night, and tonight was no exception. There didn’t seem to be any particular theme to the dreams. There were dreams of Arthur when they’d first met. Dreams of Arthur as a new father. Dreams of Arthur playing with the children. Dreams of the family on special vacations. Pleasant dreams, actually, so they didn’t disturb her. It was the fact that she had them that bothered her. He had certainly left behind any thoughts of her and moved on. She hated that he still filled her head, even if only in slumber.
She tried to remember tonight’s dream. The lake house. Just the two of them. No one else around. Warm, beautiful night. Jess and Arthur were by the water. Lake of the Ozarks was still. No boats in sight. No competing city lights to dull the stars’ shine. There was a fire in the stone fire-pit.
Suddenly, an image floated to her. Against her will, she smiled. They were making love, slowly and joyfully, by the light of the stars. She had never denied the good times, and she and Arthur had had many of them during their twenty-two-year marriage. They just hadn’t lasted. She felt her eyes well up.
“Let it go,” she said to herself, and let the tears fall. Her mind drifted back to the dream. She saw herself nude by the fire, and Arthur moving away to take a picture of her. A picture of her . . .
With a fury that suddenly engulfed her, Jess flew off the couch and ran to her desk across the room, flinging off the cat and moaning, “No, no, no, no,” getting louder and angrier as she searched through the bottom desk drawer.
She found the envelope of pictures hidden in the tin behind her hanging files. She grabbed at it frantically and spilled them all on the desk. She ignored Trixie, now meowing loudly to be heard over Jess’s commotion.
“Damn, damn, damn! I can’t believe it! That bastard!” Jess was scattering the photos all over the desk and trying to recall the occasion of the dream more clearly.
She had been sure she had gotten all the pictures from the safe deposit box. But she had forgotten the night at the lake. An anniversary celebration. A romantic weekend away. It had been so lovely and warm that they had spent the evening on the deck that jutted out over the lake and enjoyed a bottle of wine, the night sky, and each other.
Jess let herself fold softly to the floor as her tears of nostalgia turned to tears of anger and shame. Trixie came close and sat near her on a picture that had fluttered to the floor, purring.
“Oh, you,” Jess said. “You’re going to keep me going, aren’t you?” She pulled the kitty to her and
heard the purring get louder. “OK, OK, now I just need to figure out if there are any others missing and where in the hell they might be.” She lay down flat on the carpet and let Trixie walk all over her.
Finally, she was calm and ready to move forward with a plan.
Jess put the pictures back in their hiding place, showered and dressed, and was out of the house by seven a.m. She picked up coffee on the way and holed up behind her closed office door. She completed her mental inventory of pictures as she waited until West Coast time caught up with her.
At eight a.m. Portland time, she called Arthur and left a message on his cell phone. “Call me back ASAP if you don’t want me to take a personal issue to the attorneys. And I’m not talking about your new roommate.”
The other woman now had a name: Rebecca Spence. Jess’s mailman had approached her to verify Arthur’s forwarding address in Portland. It had taken only ten minutes of research for Jess to discover that Rebecca had completed a surgical residency at the university just the year before. She could connect the dots from there.
The divorce negotiations had been fairly straightforward. Arthur was so transparent in his motives to leave her that once he relocated to Portland and began cohabiting with the new love, he became distant to his children and more interested in limiting his financial obligations to them. Jess wouldn’t let that happen and fought for tuition support for them, as planned. Fortunately, both kept any negotiation tension from Beth and Tom.
The kids kept the e-mail loop among the three of them going and checked in with her once or twice a week by phone. How ironic that my empty nest comes with more, not less intimacy, she thought. I wish it weren’t the result of the emotional upheaval we’re all trying to avoid.
Jess got the house, Arthur the lake house, and they split their savings. Not too complicated. That part had never been difficult. It was the emotional burden that she seemed to be carrying around that was taking a toll. And now, whenever she recalled a sweet, romantic, or lusty moment in their twenty-two years together, it was ruined when she had to wonder if there was a photograph that she had missed.
“Jess, what is it? Can we make this fast? I’m just stepping into a lecture.” Arthur sounded rushed when he called back twenty minutes later.
“I hope we can make this fast. I’m not happy to be spending any time on this at all, so let’s do that.” Jess was crisp and determined not to feel guilty for prioritizing her needs over his. “The pictures that I pulled from the safety deposit box—I don’t think they were all there. I recall an incident at the lake when we were outside.” She faltered and took a breath. “Those pictures are missing.”
Silence on the line for a moment. “Let me call you back from my office. I can’t talk from here. Ten minutes.” Arthur cut her off, and the line went dead.
He called back in eight. “OK, I can talk now, and I understand that you’re upset about this. I’m sorry. What can I do?”
His voice was so soothing that it took the bite out of her approach, and she teared up. Her voice thicker and a bit unsteady, she replied, “I need to make sure I have all of the pictures.”
“Yes, I can understand that,” Arthur responded evenly. “I didn’t see what you got from the bank that day, so can you tell me what you have? That’s the only way I can give you any assurance that you have them all.”
She wavered, swallowed hard, and looked at the family photos on her desk. Just Beth and Tom now.
“Jessica?” Arthur asked. “Do you know another way to do this?”
She breathed deeply and then charged on, as if reading from a shopping list. “No, I guess not. So here goes. I have an inventory of six episodes, and two to three poses from each episode. I’ll go in chronological order: New house, wearing new lingerie. Painting nursery after debacle with the paint can.” Jess heard a stifled laugh and stopped abruptly.
“Are you laughing? Arthur, how can you—”
“I apologize, but you have to remember the comedy of that scene. You had paint everywhere, and”—his voice was now an intimate whisper—“once we got you undressed, we made such sweet love. Do you remember?”
She gasped and replied sharply, “Of course I remember, but I’m trying very hard to forget!”
“Jess, we had some great times, and I, at least, have wonderful memories. I hope you do too.” His voice was a caress.
She did not respond, and Arthur finally filled in the mutual silence. “OK, then two other ‘episodes,’ as you call them, that should have been at the bank were that wonderfully sexy surprise visit to Chicago, and one of you skinny-dipping at that secluded resort beach in Maui. Right?”
“Yes,” Jess managed to respond.
“So I think the only other time was the night at the lake. And you say those photos were not at the bank?” Arthur asked.
“Yes, they were not at the bank, so where are they?” Jess found her words again.
“I know it’s important for you to get these,” he said. “The only other place I might have them would be at the lake, but I’m not sure. I know you’re going up one more time to get your stuff, so maybe you can check then?”
“Where exactly would they be at the lake house?”
“If they’re there, and I’m not sure they are, they would be in my desk, or in the closet somewhere. I’m sorry I can’t be more certain, Jess.”
“And, just to be clear, there were no more than two to three poses for each of those episodes, correct?” She pushed herself to finalize this conversation.
“Yes. That’s correct,” Arthur responded softly. “And, Jess, you’re a beautiful woman now, and you were a beautiful woman in each of those pictures. If anyone came across—”
“That can’t happen, Arthur.” Jess hung up.
She walked around her office, stretched out her shoulders, did a few neck rolls, shook herself off, and picked up the phone.
First, she called her divorce lawyer and had his assistant call him out of a meeting.
“Is everything OK?” Mitchell asked. “Did you find something in the paperwork that didn’t make sense with our plan?”
“No, the papers seem to be in order. But I need you to do one more thing for me.”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Arthur has quite a number of rewards miles with two or three airlines, and I want them.” Jess pulled a few dead fronds off the spider plant on her desk.
Earlier, Mitchell had advised her that she was being more than generous to Arthur in the proceedings, and that if she wanted to use his extramarital activity for alimony or a better settlement, it would not be difficult. But she hadn’t wanted to take anything that wasn’t hers. Until now. Now, she gave in to a base instinct to instill pain.
“That shouldn’t be a problem, Jess. I’ll bring it up with Arthur’s counsel.”
“Thanks, Mitchell. Arthur’s not going to like this, by the way.”
“OK. I’ll see what I can do.” Mitchell paused. “Is this about new discoveries of—”
Jess cut him off. “No. No women besides Jennifer and Rebecca, as far as I know.”
“Then is there anything I should know?” “Don’t make me explain. I can’t.”
“No problem. You know where I am on this. You could . . .”
“I know, I know. But it’s just this one thing I want . . .” Jess hesitated. “Actually, Mitchell, one more thing. It’s non-negotiable.” She pulled her wastebasket from under her desk and dropped the fronds into it.
“Consider it done.”
Jess’s next two calls were more pleasant. She left messages with both Diane and Claire, announcing a girls’ trip to the lake house that coming weekend. If they could make the time, she needed help with a secret mission.
When Jess arrived home that night, she was relieved to see lights on at Dot’s house and made a quick call to make sure they were ready to receive Trixie. “More than ready, Jess. Mariel has been watching your house. She’s hurting from losing her grandmother and needs her kitty,” Dot said. “T
hanks so much for taking her so quickly. It meant a lot.”
Mariel met Jess at the door as she arrived, carrying a very noisy Trixie in her crate. “I’ve missed you, Trix,” she cooed to her pet.
“And she’s missed you, Mariel. I’m afraid I’m a poor substitute for you. But if you need help with her again, I’m happy to do it.”
As she walked back to her house, she mused, First I’m suspicious that they chose me to care for their kitten out of pity—poor Jess is all alone—and now I’m offering to help again? Where’s that coming from? I’m alone, but am I lonely?
Chapter 23
Jess palmed the heart-shaped Lake of the Ozarks rock that she had found years earlier and that had graced each of her desks since. She had been putting off the last trip to the lake house and hadn’t talked about it with Diane and Claire, so they were surprised at the invitation. Even now, with a reason that compelled her to get over there fast, she wasn’t so sure the trip was a good idea. She would be losing the place in a few short months and wasn’t sure she wanted to say goodbye to it with an audience. But more and more, Jess found it easier to ask for her friends’ support and was able to admit to herself that she needed it.
“I call shotgun!” Claire called out as she headed for Jess’s four-wheel drive vehicle ahead of Diane.
“There’s nowhere else you’d fit!” Diane teased, catching up to her friend, clearly nearing the end of her pregnancy. “And I was going to insist on it anyway. So have at it. I imagine we’ll be stopping every half hour for you to use the bathroom, too, and I’m not even going to complain.”
“Am I going to have to be the parent with you two?” Jess asked.
“Nope, I need the practice!” Claire announced. “Should be me. I only have weeks before I hit the reality of motherhood.”
They broke up the drive with a gas-and-bathroom break and reached the Lakeview Café in time for their reservation. Claire awoke from her second nap as the lights from the Lakeview appeared on the horizon. When they pulled into the restaurant parking lot, it had started to mist a bit, and the leaves underfoot everywhere were soggy. Situated just across the highway from Lake of the Ozarks, the Lakeview was a destination for anyone who valued fresh, tasty, healthy food—if there was a table available. Fortunately, that wasn’t a problem in the late fall. The leaf peepers had already had their weekend getaways while the colors were at their peak.