A Very Good Life (27 page)

When he had shot two rolls of film, Matthew went to the airport’s U.S. Post Office.

“How soon can I get this back to New York?” Matthew asked the postal worker at the counter. “Yorktown Heights.”

The man rubbed his chin. “It’ll get to New York tomorrow by Air Mail, but it won’t be delivered.”

“Why not?”

“No Sunday delivery, son.”

The look of frustration on Matthew’s face was plain.

“But the mail is sorted and sent to substations twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week,” the clerk said reassuringly. “It will get to its destination by Monday. Tuesday if there’s bad weather.”

“That’s fine,” Matthew said in a dispirited voice. How could Brett do this to Dana?

The clerk gave Matthew a mailer, which he addressed to his friend Bobby Munsen. He inserted the film into the brown padded envelope and paid for the postage.

“Thanks,” Matthew said.

The clerk nodded and tossed the package into a large canvas sack behind him.

Matthew walked calmly and methodically away from the small postal substation. He knew what he had to do. He went to a pay telephone and called his friend Bobby, a photography buff with his own darkroom.

“Bobby, this is Matthew. Say, I’m in San Francisco. On my way back to school, but I just sent you a package containing two rolls of film. Could you develop them when they arrive on Monday or Tuesday and then take the pictures straight to my sister, Dana McGarry, at 77 Park Avenue? You can leave them in a sealed envelope with the doorman in the lobby.”

“Sure,” Bobby said. “No problem. Sounds pretty important.”

“It is. And there’s one more thing. Don’t mention what’s in the photos to anyone, okay?”

“Consider it done,” Bobby said. “And hey, catch a wave for me out there in paradise.”

“Got it. And thanks. I owe you one.”

Matthew hung up and put two more nickels into the telephone. He was about to make the most difficult call of his life.

“B. Altman,” said a female voice on the other end of the line. “How may I direct your call?”

“Connect me with Dana McGarry, please.”

“One moment please.”

A minute passed, after which the operator came back on the line. “I’m sorry, but Ms. McGarry has left for the day.”

Matthew sighed. “Thanks.”

He’d forgotten about the time difference. It was mid-afternoon in California, which meant that Dana had already left work back in New York.

The airport public address system announced Matthew’s flight for Hawaii. He glanced at his wat ch and hurriedly dropped more coins into the phone’s narrow metal slots. He dialed Dana’s home number, but there was no answer.

He put the receiver back on its cradle and started walking to the concourse where his gate was located. A second announcement over the PA called out his flight number, and time was running out. Matthew felt despondent. How was he going to carry this information on a long flight over the Pacific? He felt awful for Dana, but he needed to get the news off his chest. Suddenly, he stopped and reversed his steps, heading back to the telephone. He thought he knew where Dana was.

He would make one more phone call.

D
ana picked up the telephone in the library on the third ring. “Hello?”

When the long distance operator informed Dana that she had a person-to-person call from Matthew Martignetti, she accepted it immediately.

“It’s me—Matthew. I’ve been trying to call you.”

“I was out walking Wills.”

“That’s what I figured. I don’t have long, sis, since my connecting flight is about to leave, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s wrong, Matthew? Are you alright?” Dana could clearly tell from her brother’s voice that he was troubled.

“I’m fine, but the thing is—” He paused. “The thing is that I just saw Brett and Janice in a restaurant here at the airport.”

Dana sat down in the English club chair next to the phone. Brett had made no mention of Janice going to the coast. In fact, he had specifically said that Richard was sending two paralegals with him—no one else. Despite a sinking feeling in her stomach, she supposed that Richard might have dispatched Janice at the last minute. But she knew there was more to the story or Matthew wouldn’t sound so upset.

“Are you still there?” Matthew asked.

“Yes. Go on.”

“They were in a booth, Dana, and they were kissing.” Matthew’s voice was low and subdued.

Dana shut her eyes tightly, feeling dizzy. “Are you sure it was them? Were you close enough?”

“I saw them across the restaurant at first, but I’m positive it was Brett and Janice. A few minutes later I took some pictures using a zoom lens. They seemed to be very . . . intimate. I’ve sent the film to a friend of mine in Yorktown Heights. He has a darkroom and will deliver the developed photographs to you in a sealed envelope in another day or two. I’d rather not describe the scene. It’s all on film. I’m so sorry, Dana. I don’t know what to say.”

“There
is
nothing to say,” Dana said, holding back her tears. “I know how hard this was for you, but I’m glad you told me. I’ve had my suspicions, but that’s all I’ll say for now.”

“Do you want me to fly back to New York?” Matthew asked. “I can change my ticket if I move fast.”

“No, Matthew. I know you’d do anything for me, but I want you to finish the semester.”

The third and final boarding call for Matthew’s flight echoed through the terminal.

“I’ll be praying for you, Dana. And don’t be alone. Maybe you should call Andrew.”

“Don’t worry, Matthew. I’ll be okay.”

Matthew hung up and hurried to his gate, tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

• • •

Dana stared ahead, feeling numb. She didn’t know how long the affair had been going on, but Brett had reeled her in with all of his excuses and talk of a country home and a family. He’d done so, she realized, to appease her and, in the process, to allay any suspicions she might have. Her mind was assaulted with recollections from the past week: learning of his trips with Janice to Mrs. John L. Strong and Saks; his odd behavior when her parents came over for dinner; his sudden absence from the ballroom the night before and the glassy stare on his face when he returned to the table. It all made sense now, even Janice’s flirtation with Matthew. It had been nothing more than smoke and mirrors.

And then the tears came as Dana moved to the couch and rolled into a ball, a pain deep within her gut. The sense of betrayal she felt was overwhelming. She had been patient with Brett through the years as he had gained a stellar reputation with Davis, Konen and Wright, including his determination to make partner. She had not begrudged him success even though he had not always been emotionally or physically present to her. She was a professional woman with a rewarding job, and she didn’t need Brett hovering over her every second of the day. He had grown distant recently, and still she hadn’t made any demands on him. This was her reward for her patience and understanding.

She cried for an hour, and then anger surfaced. She pounded her fists into the cushions of the couch over and over again until she was out of breath and her strength was depleted. She had been treated cruelly, and the normally even-tempered Dana McGarry clenched her fists repeatedly until she finally breathed evenly and sat up straight. She knew what she had to do. Regardless of how long the affair had been going on—a day or a week or a year—she could no longer tolerate Brett’s behavior, could not look past his lies and neglect and manipulation, nor was the lifestyle she would be leaving behind a cause for her to entertain second thoughts. She was a survivor, and she could make it on her own.

She would need to tell her parents, but that call would have to wait for another time. She was not emotionally ready to listen to her parents’ reassurances and recommendations, however well-meaning they might be. She made another call instead.

• • •

Andrew was sitting next to Dana within the hour, his arms wrapped tightly around her. He let her cry more, her eyes already swollen. He would like to have said a great many things, all clichés: it was for the best; Brett didn’t deserve her; it was a chance to start a new life. But Andrew knew better. Dana needed his presence, not his words.

At last Dana spoke. “I’m going to consult a lawyer this week,” she said, “and then I’m going to look for an apartment. I want papers filed before the end of the year.”

“I’ll be with you every step of the way,” Andrew said. “If you need a shoulder to lean on, that is. Maybe you should take the week off.”

“I’ll take your shoulder,” Dana said, “but I’m going in to work next week. It’s what I need right now. And I don’t want anyone at the store to know about this for the time being. I couldn’t handle all the sad looks and condolences. I’ll tell everybody when I think the time is right. For now, I just want to do my job. B. Altman is going to be my therapy for quite some time.”

Andrew nodded. “I think you’re probably right. Just remember I’m here for you any time, day or night.”

Dana kissed Andrew on the cheek. “I know,” she said. “That’s why you’re sitting here now.”

• • •

The telephone rang an hour after Andrew left. Dana knew instinctively that it was Brett, the dutiful husband who was checking in to say that he had arrived in San Francisco safely. She thought of just letting it ring, but he would persist in calling, tonight and in the days ahead, until she answered. Indeed, if he couldn’t reach her, he would almost certainly call her parents, and she couldn’t have them worrying about her whereabouts.

Inhaling deeply, Dana steeled herself. She would not confront Brett yet. She would use his absence in the next few days to start processing the changes that would manifest in her life and also to take the preliminary steps to legally separate from Brett. She knew that if she told him she was aware of his affair, she would receive the obligatory lines used by all cheating husbands: “It’s not what you think, honey! I can explain. This is all just a big misunderstanding.”

“Hello,” she said.

“It’s me. Just wanted to say that I’m in San Francisco safe and sound. And, of course, to say I love you. Everything go okay at the store today?”

“Fine,” Dana said, summoning every ounce of strength she had. “The Teen Advisory Board came in and did a great job modeling this afternoon.”

“You sound like you have a cold,” Brett said.

“Yeah, it started suddenly this afternoon. Been sniffling all evening.”

“Make sure to drink lots of fluids,” Brett counseled. “Hot tea and honey and get some rest. You’ve had a heck of a week.”

“That’s what I’m planning on. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of business in San Francisco.”

Dana’s own words stung as she uttered them. Brett would indeed take care of business, and not just the firm’s.

“Okay, honey. I’ll say goodnight so you can go to bed. I love you.”

Dana knew that she had to end the call on the right note or Brett would know immediately that she’d discovered his secret. She closed her eyes and forced the words from her mouth: “I love you, too. Good night.”

Dana hung up and looked at the pictures in the library, pictures of her life with Brett for the past eight years. That life was over now.

Dana had sensed that big changes in her life were in the offing when she’d walked home from B. Altman the day after Thanksgiving. She’d been right.

F
or Dana, Monday was a busy day. She had to work on the mission statement for the Teen Advisory Board and oversee a dozen other events related to the holiday season with Christmas Day growing closer. She steeled herself from the moment she entered B. Altman to make sure that her mind was focused and her manner pleasant. It was Bea who remarked that she seemed quieter than usual—”Is everything okay, kiddo?”—but Dana reassured her that she was preoccupied with duties for the Advisory Board and drawing up its schedule. Her thoughts turned many times throughout the day to the news Matthew had given her on Saturday, and each time she recalled his words spoken from the pay phone in San Francisco, she felt a new pain in her heart, a feeling of disbelief at her husband’s betrayal. And yet she managed to get through the day without anyone noticing her inner turmoil since store employees were in full holiday mode, barely able to keep up with their own duties. Helen was especially busy and called Dana into her office in the late morning.

“Have you heard the news?” Helen asked, her face beaming.

“News?” Dana said.

“I thought you of all people would know,” Helen said. “The Fair Isle sweaters sold out on Saturday. The sales staff had to transfer sweaters from White Plains and Manhasset to fill the orders. That’s quite a job your teens did. In fact, I’m planning a luncheon for you and your junior staff next Saturday.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Helen. The girls should hear of their success from you, and it’s a nice way for you to get to know them. They’re brimming with ideas and enthusiasm! I’m here to help, too. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

“Oh, there will be
plenty
to do!” Helen said as she got up from her desk. “I have to run to the sales floor now, but we need to start talking about the look for that teen makeup counter when the holiday rush is over.”

Dana’s colleagues were coming together as a team—indeed, as a family—and Dana knew that she would need that closeness and support very soon.

Helen flew out the door, charged with energy, as Dana smiled to herself. It was a bittersweet moment. She knew that her career at B. Altman would keep her sufficiently busy in the months ahead, and yet she had hoped she would be able to go home at the end of every day and share her triumphs with Brett. The latter was never going to happen.

Brett had called again Sunday night, but Dana told him that everything was fine and she was heading out for dinner with Andrew. The reality was that she had no dinner plans with Andrew, but the excuse had enabled Dana to avoid a long phone call. She didn’t think she could listen to Brett’s voice for more than a minute or two. Brett seemed unconcerned since Dana and Andrew often went out for dinner when Brett was kept late in court or at the office.