Accidents of Marriage (43 page)

“No, Ben. Because I don’t want. To wait every night,” she said. “Wondering about how. My night. Will be. Your moods. I don’t want them. Ruling our world.” She unfolded her legs, cramped from the cross-legged position. “My world. I can’t. I won’t. Protect anyone, including me, from you. Not anymore.”

They remained silent. Ben turned away from her as she lay back against the pillows. She heard his wrenching ugly sobs.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his words muffled. “For what I did to you.”

“I know. That I do know.”

Did she have the courage to struggle with this, with him, while also making the enormous efforts she’d need to recover? If she were alone, with her mother and father, would it be easier?

Her children, she knew what they wanted.

How about me?

What do I want?

She closed her eyes and prayed for wisdom.

Ben touched her shoulder. Traces of his father showed in the crepelike skin around the corners of his eyes. When she rested her hand on his chest, she saw her mother’s fingers.

Maddy didn’t want to lose this family.

But she couldn’t serve any more tears for supper.

She needed to learn how to live her life.

“Get help, Ben,” she said. “Go find someone. A therapist. A friend. A group. I can’t do it for you. I can’t social-work you anymore.”

So quiet it barely sounded like him, he asked, “Can I come home if I prove myself?”

He looked so sad. Ben needed her to say yes; he wanted her to wrap him up with a big flourish of a bow. The temptation was so strong she almost choked on the
yes!
Tried to get it out from her heart. A
yes!
to make him happy. A
yes!
to make the children happy.

Yes!
to make everyone around them think happily ever after.

She could soothe a world of people with her yes.

“I can’t imagine what will happen if we’re not together. To you. To us,” Ben said. “It frightens me.”

“What do you think will happen if I said no?”

Ben pulled back a bit, as though warding himself against the inevitable. “We’d lose hope. The kids. Me. And you, Maddy. Wouldn’t you lose hope for what we could be? Hope that we could bring back the best of us?”

Could Ben comprehend how faraway worry about “us” seemed at this time? Concentrating on retrieving even a tiny bit of “her” consumed Maddy. How could she worry about her marriage? She didn’t know who “her” would be in the future. Explaining this seemed impossible.

But maybe that’s what she owed him. The kids. Trying to teach him.

“Ben. I need to find me now. Not
us
.” She had to explain in a way that promised nothing. “I need to do that alone. Well, alone with the
kids. Listen. Perhaps
maybe
is possible. Maybe is the only thing about us I can imagine.”

She saw Ben’s hope surge. She sensed his gathering strength.

“But no more,” she warned. “Don’t ask any. More of me than that. I’m not asking. For patience. Or time. I’m saying the door. Isn’t nailed shut. That’s all.”

“That’s plenty. Thank you.”

“It’s not time for thanks. The thing of it is this. Maybe I don’t know how. To give up on someone I love. But if I need to, I can learn.”

“You won’t have to. I’ll prove myself.”

She pulled back away, avoiding his touch as he reached out. “I don’t know.”

“What does that mean?” Ben, Ben, her lawyer word-mincer, he wanted certainty. A gift she no longer had to offer. Not now. Maybe never.

“Find an apartment. Fix yourself. I hate you as much as I love you. Maybe I have for a long time. I don’t want that anymore.”

Ben stood and nodded. “I will become your good man. You’ll see.”

She didn’t know if he could manage goodness.

She didn’t know if offering hope was a mistake.

She didn’t know if Ben could keep his promise.

And she didn’t know if she’d be sorry when she woke up alone tomorrow.

However, she’d told the truth, something that once had seemed so impossible. After telling the truth, you couldn’t, you didn’t, take it back.

The past had already happened. Using hope and courage, they constructed their solid present. And perhaps, just maybe, now there was a chance of shaping an honorable and loving future.

All of them.

Acknowledgments

Many people supported me in writing
Accidents of Marriage
, but none more than my husband, Jeff Rand, who holds my heart.

Stéphanie Abou has been my wise, warm, and determined partner from the beginning, as has everyone at Foundry Literary + Media. Atria Books is everything you want a publisher to be. Judith Curr’s wisdom and love of books is always apparent and I thank her for allowing me a place in the Atria fold. Greer Hendricks is my dream-come-true editor, and I am forever grateful to be working with her. Sarah Cantin makes everything about publishing happier, easier, and better. Elaine Broeder and Lisa Sciambra define indefatigability and goodness. Kimberly Goldstein and Mary Beth Constant performed miracles with my mountains of errors.

Nancy MacDonald is a rock, improving everything she touches. Rose Daniels built a website that makes me grateful for her every day.

Ginny Deluca provides faith when my own is lacking; Melisse Shapiro keeps me safe from bad choices (by letting me say them all aloud). My life would be lacking a center without them. My beloved writing group—Nichole Bernier, Kathy Crowley, Juliette Fay, and Liz Moore are four of the wisest, warmest (and when need be, strictest) women in the world.

To my circle of cherished and trusted writer friends—bless our virtual water fountain: my dearly loved Chris Abouzeid, Ann Bauer,
Robin Black, Jenna Blum, Dell Smith, Becky Tuch, and Julie Wu—you are all way beyond talented and loving.

Heartfelt thanks to the Grub Street Writer’s Center of Boston, especially Eve Bridburg, Chris Castellani, Whitney Scharer, and Sonya Larson, for bringing us all 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.

Thank you Nina Lev for listening to me agonize, and Kris Alden for telling me which authors I should be reading and sharing them.

My deep love and thanks belong to my family, including the sisters of my heart, Diane Butkus and Susan Knight. I bask in the love of my cousin, Sherri Danny, sisters-in-law, Nicole Todini and Jean Rand; and my brother-in-law, Bruce Rand. And Mom, you are always with me.

Those who own my heart, who offer comfort, joy, and understanding: my sister (and best friend), Jill Meyers; my children and my granddaughter: Becca Wolfson, Sara, Jason, and Nora Hoots, thank you all for being so sweet and funny, and, again, the love of my life, Jeff Rand.

Randy Susan Meyers
is the author of
The Comfort of Lies
and
The Murderer’s Daughters
and a finalist for the Massachusetts Book Award. Her writing is informed by her work with batterers and victims of domestic violence, as well as her experience with youth impacted by street violence. She lives with her husband in Boston, where she teaches writing seminars at the Grub Street Writers’ Center.

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A
LSO BY
R
ANDY
S
USAN
M
EYERS

The Murderer’s Daughters

The Comfort of Lies

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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Randy Susan Meyers

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First Atria Books hardcover edition September 2014

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