“Do you think we should go to the vet clinic?” I ask. “Check if he’s okay?”
Leo nods. “Thank you.”
And so my Catherine Deane dress gets to be seen by the staff at the twenty-four-hour veterinary clinic. Loki is deemed “quite healthy for an old guy,” despite his pukes, and we’re sent home with some pills that should give him some pep and soothe his stomach at the same time.
When we get home, it’s nearly 3:00 a.m. I have a bride who needs to be sewn into her dress in five hours. She broke my cardinal rule of weight gain after her final fitting, but what am I going to do? Let her walk down the aisle naked? My eyes are gritty, my feet hurt, my heart is achy.
“I didn’t mean what I said about Loki,” I say as Leo opens the gate to his courtyard. “You’re really good to him. I know you’re not selfish.”
“No. I am.”
He looks at me, and in the gentle pink light from the streetlamp, his eyes are so sad that my own fill with tears. “Leo, I’m really sorry.”
Then he hugs me, letting go of Loki’s leash, a two-armed, full, warm, horribly wonderful hug. I slip my arms around his back and hug him, too, and it feels like my heart goes right into his chest. He smells so nice, soap and shaving cream and red wine, and I wish we could stay like this all night. “I’m sorry, too,” he murmurs.
Then he lets go of me and goes inside, and I climb the steps to my door, doing my damnedest not to cry.
Rachel
My sister isn’t home when I get there, but I have a key.
I lug in the two giant duffel bags, then get the girls from the minivan. I took them to Chili’s for supper, then ran them around the town park so they’d be good and tired. “Bath time!” I say, and they jump and clap, because Jenny has an old Victorian tub they find quite wonderful. After that, we read stories, and I tuck them into the queen-size bed in Jenny’s guest room, the three of them lined up like little flowers against the “million pillows” Aunt Jenny has on the bed.
“Will Daddy come, too?” Grace asks. “For the sleepover?” She rubs her eyes, yawning.
“No,” I say. “Daddy has to work a lot these days.” With his mistress, no less.
It occurs to me that I’m giving him a whole lotta freedom, leaving like this. But what else am I going to do? Leash him? Put a lock on his stupid penis?
When the girls are asleep, I pour myself a glass of wine and watch TV. I don’t text or call Jenny. She might be on a date, and I’m already interfering with her life as it is.
I doze off on her big red couch, waking up at the sound of the door. My watch says quarter past three. Yikes.
Jenny comes in, looking beautiful, as always. “Hey,” I say. She jumps a little.
“Hi! What...” She does the math. “Oh, honey.”
Then I’m crying, it seems, and she takes me in her arms and hugs me. “I didn’t want to leave a message,” I say against her shoulder. “I had to get away. He’s still... They were kissing today at work. I walked into his office, and they were kissing like it was their last day on earth, and I had to leave.”
She lets me cry, murmuring and patting me, and God, she’d make the best mother. Better than our own, who’d only be more upset than I am.
Finally, I blow my nose, and Jenny gets up. She makes me some cocoa, padding around the small kitchen in her bare feet. I haven’t spent enough time with her here, in this lovely new place, not when I’ve been afraid to leave my husband alone in our house for fear of what he’ll do without my angry, punitive presence.
She sets a mug in front of me, and takes one for herself as well and sits across from me. “I’m really glad you’re here,” she says, and my eyes fill again.
“I think I have to divorce him,” I whisper.
She nods and covers my hand with her own. “I think so, too. You deserve a husband who’d cut off his own dick before he’d cheat on you, Rach. You do.”
“Maybe we can put that in my Match.com profile,” I suggest, hiccuping on a sob.
“Definitely.” She smiles, and I love her so much, my sister. God, what would I do without her? “I have an idea,” she says.
“Good. Because coming here was my big play. I’ve got nothing else.”
“Why don’t you leave the girls with me this weekend and go somewhere? It’s Friday...well, Saturday, now. Just get out of town? Go to... I don’t know. Maine. Cape Cod. Somewhere away from the girls, away from Adam, and treat yourself. Read, get a facial or a massage or both, order expensive drinks, sleep in a bed by yourself. What do you think? Adam makes more money than God. Time to use it, don’t you agree?”
I nod. I know exactly where to go.
And ten minutes later, the Penthouse Suite at the Tribeca Grand is booked for one.
* * *
Without the girls around, home seems like someone else’s place. It’s Saturday morning; Jenny had to run into the shop to fix a dress, then came back and shooed me out of her house. I suspect she’s rescheduled brides for me. I’ll have to think about how to pay her back.
I texted Adam and told him the girls were with Jenny this weekend, and I was going to a hotel to think, and I’d talk to him on Tuesday when I get back—yes, Tuesday. Jenny’s shop is closed Mondays, and she insisted that I stay till Tuesday. I asked him not to be at the house when I went over to grab a few things, and he said, fine, take my time, and he was glad I was getting away, and he hoped I’d have a nice time.