Four Friends (16 page)

“I need you around more. I just can’t do it alone.”

“I know, Gerri,” he said. “No one could.”

“Women do it all the time,” she said. “But I can’t. They’re independent kids, we made them independent but they’re used to having two of us to ride herd on them. No matter how long it takes for us to come to a decision about where we’re going, we have to figure out how to help each other get them through these years. Last night was too close. Jed could’ve been using something worse. Jessie could have been hurt.”

“You’re the only one making a decision about where we’re going, Gerri.”

“Okay, let me put it this way—while we’re separated, we still have to work together until they’re out of the woods. Really, I’d like to just shove you in a hole right now, but I won’t sacrifice my kids because I’m hurt and angry. Help me with them, Phil.”

He took a breath. “You’re calling the shots. Tell me what you need, that’s all you have to do.”

“I need you five minutes away when you’re not in the city working. I need you to help me parent more.”

“Done,” he said. “I’ll talk to the woman with the guesthouse today.”

She just shook her head. “I’ve walked at least a hundred women through separation and divorce and suddenly I don’t know how it’s done.”

“Wait,” he said. “Divorce? You’re not thinking that way already.”

She was quiet for a moment. “What if we can’t put things back together? It’s been weeks and I’m still...” She bit her lip. “I just don’t feel married anymore, Phil. At least I know I don’t have the marriage I once had.”

“Don’t go there, Gerri. That’s a whole different subject. I’m real clear on the anger, on your need for space and time to work through this, but I’m not ready to have a discussion about divorce.”

“Maybe we should talk about it,” she said. “I can’t reassure you that it won’t come to that. Maybe we should know where we both stand.”

He picked up his coffee cup and took a slow sip. “I don’t recommend it,” he said. “It puts a final stamp on things. If you start thinking that way, you’re not really giving me—us—a chance. I’m willing to do anything, whatever you need, but when you bring divorce into the dialogue, I’m not letting you call the shots anymore.”

She stiffened. “Just what are you saying?”

“I hate this, Gerri. I don’t think living apart is getting us anywhere. I think we should be here together, talking rather than fighting, eating at the same table, sleeping in the same bed—believe me, I know how to do that without touching you. I think we should be trying—both of us. I should be trying to do whatever I can to reassure you I can be trusted again, but you should be trying to get past the rage because we’re not going to know if we can make it until that’s not part of the landscape anymore.”

“I just can’t live with you,” she said.

“Fine, if that’s what you need. But I think of this as a temporary separation while we work on our problems. I don’t see it as a separation preceding divorce. When you start talking divorce, you put me in a whole different place.”

“The lawyer place?” she asked sarcastically.

“The father place. The abandoned spouse place.”

“
You
abandoned
me
for
her!
”

“No,” he said calmly. “Not for one hour of one day. What I did was wrong, but let’s stay clear on what I didn’t do.”

“And just what
didn’t
you do?”

He stared at her hard, thinking. He shook his head. “I’m not even going to bother. You already know.”

They sat in stony silence.

“I’m going for a walk,” Gerri said.

* * *

Gerri walked a hard half hour, ending up in the same park where her son had been nabbed for smoking pot. She sat on the ground and leaned against a tree trunk.
And just what didn’t you do, Phil?
The thought kept reverberating in her mind. It’s why she’d had no idea there was another woman—Phil never let his commitments slip. And not just his obligations to the kids, but also to her. He never really put anyone ahead of her. So that’s what he wanted from her—for her to see the marriage as a whole entity with one small imperfection.

But, what Gerri couldn’t understand, what filled her with anger, was the idea that the marriage could be so strong and balanced yet he would still need another woman. In making a list of pros and cons, it wasn’t difficult to admit, even through red-hot rage, that Phil was a good father. Not just good, but excellent. And he’d been a committed partner, through the worst crap. He’d been a rock through death, disaster and at least a couple of years of Gerri’s hot-flashing, sweating and mood swings that jolted her unpredictably. As a provider, no question—he not only put in long hours and made a good living, but he pursued an honorable task, working on the side of justice. Given what she did for a living, that meant a great deal.

And wasn’t she all those things, too? Yet she had never succumbed to the temptation to stray. She felt tears on her cheeks and at the same time found herself shaking her head in soundless laughter. Oh, she’d flirted. She’d even found the occasional man tempting. But she’d never run into a man who had more to offer than Phil, who was everything to her.
Everything.
Handsome, strong, brilliant, funny, devoted. But she was not everything to him.

“Bad morning?”

Gerri looked up to see BJ standing over her. She was wearing her running clothes, panting, drenched in sweat. Gerri wiped off her cheeks. “Marital problems suck.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” BJ said. She sat down on the ground in front of Gerri, folding up her legs under her. “Need a shoulder to cry on?”

“Nah, not really. It’s so typical I’m going to be reading about it in
Good Housekeeping
in a few months.”

“That right?”

“He’s at the house right now,” Gerri said. “I called him— My teenagers went nuts last night, everyone got in trouble and I was in over my head. So he came. Stayed. Slept on the sofa. And this morning we were having a conversation about how to work together as parents even though we’re not living in the same house and it started, the button pushing.” She shrugged. “That’s how it works. I’ve been through it a million times with friends and clients. I said something about the potential for our divorce and he warned me he wouldn’t go along with that quietly. I felt threatened, he felt backed into a corner, etcetera.” She sniffed and wiped her nose. “He had an affair,” she said.

“Ouch,” was BJ’s singular comment.

“A long time ago, but still...”

“Still ouch.”

“Yeah. The son of a bitch. I might’ve never known and we’d have gone on forever, just like we were. Until it happened again.”

“So you’re glad you know,” BJ said.

“No. I’m not. I wish I didn’t know. I’m starting to feel like I don’t have the right to be this mad. I wish I could
catch
him, that’s what I wish. In our bed, that’s what I’d like. With the children watching. Something so egregious no one would even question my feelings, which are still so hot I can’t get a rational thought through.” She sniffed. “Even my best friend asked me if I couldn’t get over it, since it was a long time ago. Get over it? If I let myself think about it, I want to kill him.”

They sat for a quiet moment, then BJ said, “Instincts are the hidden genius. Maybe the worst thing you can do is question what you feel.” Gerri’s head came up and she looked at her. “Okay, the second worst,” BJ said, smiling.

Gerri was suddenly aware that when BJ smiled, a slightly crooked smile, she was a pretty woman. “Jesus, BJ, this almost qualifies as reaching out.”

“Maybe I’m coming out of my shell,” she said. “Anyway, you were nice to me. It doesn’t hurt to be nice back.”

“It’s appreciated,” Gerri said. “First walking with us, now this.”

“It got easier when I realized you guys don’t have perfect lives.”

“Right now we don’t even have manageable lives. I’m teetering on the edge, Andy’s getting her second divorce and Sonja’s half crackers.” Gerri looked around the park. “Every year, right before school starts, we have a big neighborhood party here. It’s an amazing party—celebrating getting our freedom back after a summer of having kids home. Well, everyone celebrates but Andy, who’s going back to school with all the little jerks. Were you here for the last one?”

“Barely. I had just moved in. I watched some of it from the house.”

“Weren’t ready to come out yet?”

“Not then, no. I was new to paradise. Not really up to being scrutinized by the elite of Mill Valley.”

Gerri laughed in spite of herself. “You live in the same neighborhood.”

“Just sort of. It’s not my house. I don’t even rent it as a matter of fact. A friend of my brother’s is letting us house-sit for a while till I get on my feet. I’m here because my brother’s business is close and he could give me work.”

“No insurance? With your husband’s death?”

“’Fraid not,” she said. “We’re very lucky, so don’t get the idea I’m complaining. It’s an awfully nice house to just let someone use. But then, they have a lot to spare, I gather. I’m a little out of place here. I should be living much smaller, cheaper.”

“Probably we all should,” Gerri said.

“Oh, I think you’re where you’re supposed to be. I’m from a pretty poor section of Fresno, barely scraping by. But you and the girls? A district attorney’s wife, school principal and the wife of a successful financial planner? I think you fit pretty good.”

“Who told you all that?” Gerri asked.

BJ shrugged. “I asked the owners about the neighbors before I moved in.”

“But you asked me what I did for a living.”

“Yeah, I know. Making conversation. You and your husband...I mean, you and the son of a bitch are neighborhood legends. High cotton.” She grinned her crooked grin.

“Huh,” Gerri said, astonished. “And I don’t even know your last name.”

“Smith,” she said. “Honest to God, Barbara Jean Smith and if you ever call me Barbara Jean, we’re all done talking.”

Gerri laughed. “Well, how do you do,” she said. “Big sneak.”

BJ pulled herself to her feet. “I’m going to go shower, run the kids over to my brother’s for a while and break into Sonja’s house. I stopped by there yesterday. Since it wasn’t a walking day for you and she’s still in a fog, I tried to roust her out. She wouldn’t come out, she’s living in a cave. But that house—whew. It’s starting to actually smell bad.”

Gerri stood. “Seriously? It seemed okay on Friday when we got her up. I mean, it’s a mess, but...”

“Yeah, but it’s turning.” BJ made a face. “I have a lot to pay forward—I’m going to see if I can help her clean up.”

“When will you be over there? Maybe I’ll come over, too.”

“Don’t sweat it,” BJ said. “You have teenagers going nuts and a son of a bitch to threaten and nag. I can handle it.”

“When?”
Gerri asked with a laugh.

“Ten or so, I guess. But really—”

“I’ll stick the SOB with the kids. He needs to be punished.”

“Right.” BJ laughed.

* * *

Gerri got to Sonja’s house ahead of BJ. “What are you doing?” Gerri asked when Sonja answered the door.

“Nothing,” Sonja shrugged, running a hand through her tangled hair.

“You must be doing something.”

“Watching the shopping channel, that’s all.”

“The shopping channel? You? Well, I’m meeting BJ here,” Gerri said. “We’re going to help you straighten up the house. You’ve been too groggy to get to it, I guess.”

“I don’t want you to straighten up the house,” Sonja said. “I don’t want anyone to do anything.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. You’ve been there for me a hundred times.”

“This is different,” Sonja said.

“Yeah—it’s you this time.” Gerri brushed past her and walked into the house. For the second time she was a little embarrassed that BJ had been more observant, caught that something all wrong was taking place before Gerri. She wrinkled her nose. The house was starting to take on an odor. Or Sonja was. “I guess I’ve been a little caught up in my own drama,” Gerri muttered. “Are you just so tired, Sonja? It doesn’t look like you’ve cleaned up around here in a while. Or yourself, for that matter.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sonja said with a shrug, turning away and going to the family room sofa. She flopped down, staring at the TV.

Gerri observed the squalor all around—discarded socks, kicked off tennis shoes, scrunched up tissues, dirty coffee cups, a couple of plates, glasses, an apple core in a bowl with what looked like little spit out bites, all rotten. She walked over to the table and picked up the remote, turned off the TV.

“Hey!” Sonja said.

“Go take a shower,” Gerri said firmly. “See if you can find something clean to wear. Do something with your hair.”

“Really, I don’t feel like it.”

“I know. I can tell. Do it, anyway.”

“I don’t—”

“Sonja, I’m tired of looking at you all a wreck, falling apart. If you don’t do as I say, I’m going to get in the shower with you and scrub you up.” Gerri shook her head. “It’s not like you to go to pieces like this. Jeez, you’re in worse shape than I am and I had to call my cheating husband home to help with the drunk and stoned teenagers. Come on, we’re going to get you straightened out. Now cooperate. What George did was pretty crappy, but really—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sonja said. “I have to talk about it three times a week with that counselor and I refuse to talk about it anymore.”

“Then go take a shower.”

Without another word, Sonja turned and headed for her bathroom. Gerri went to the kitchen and surveyed the mess. Sheesh, it looked as if a plate hadn’t been washed, a surface cleared or floor swept since George departed. There was rotten fruit in a bowl surrounded by tiny flies, the loaf of bread on the counter was green, the tissue box empty and surrounded by used tissues, balled up. She heard the shower running and went to open the blinds and windows in the front room to air the place out. She wiped a hand along the fireplace mantel and looked at the dust on her fingers. Then she noticed there were a couple of imprints of dust-free spots. A round spot on the side table, a square spot on the mantel, an oval shape on another accent table. Nothing had been touched in the house, nothing cleaned or tidied, yet things had been moved?