The Good Life (7 page)

“He’s probably got coworkers living all over Manhattan,” Hope said, sounding disappointed.

I nodded. “They’re all over New York, period.”

“So what are you saying? That you need to work in Jersey?” She shook her head vigorously. “I understand you’re feeling a little embarrassed right now, but I think it’s silly to go all the way to Jersey to make less money than you would here just because you might possibly run into someone who knows your ex.”

“I think I should go farther away than Jersey,” I said thoughtfully.

“Like where?”

“Somewhere new where I can get a fresh and cheaper start. Maybe back home to Michigan. I’ve been gone over ten years, so it would really be like starting over.”

“What would you do in Michigan?” She said the name of my home state like it was an undeveloped Third World country; a common misconception actually.

The waiter brought over another bottle of wine for us, and I used the interruption to think about what I
would
do in Michigan. My intention back in the day had been to get my Master’s in Social Work and work with underprivileged teenagers. I’d wanted to help them achieve success in their lives and get out of the “system.” I could do that in Michigan for sure. The whole Metro Detroit area was in a disgrace at the moment and the underprivileged were many. Plus, my money would go a lot further there, especially if I moved in with my brother. Yes! It was definitely possible. I could make do on the measly amount of money my loving husband was “paying” me if I moved back to Michigan!

“I’m going to do what I was supposed to have done all along,” I told her. Now where was our food? I was suddenly famished.

I got back into the city by noon the next day and went straight to the lawyer’s office – (I had used Hope’s iPad at the hotel the night before to get the scoop on divorce lawyers. Maybe this technological overload actually had some relevance). The lawyer looked over the papers and said as long as Caleb was being honest about his finances, the offer was on the lower end of fair. She was going to send over a counteroffer asking for the higher end and do a little bit of research to see if she could find any hidden assets. I told her to do as much research as she wanted since Caleb was paying for it.

She said I didn’t have to move out of the condo until it was sold, but I already had it in my head that I was going to Michigan and it was too late to change my mind. I told her to let me know anytime she wanted me to come to New York to meet with her again since the transportation expenses were taken care of, wink wink.

The moving expenses were also taken care of. When I told Caleb I was moving back home, he had a moving company lined up within minutes. He told me to go ahead and pack a carry-on because he had booked me a flight to Michigan for Monday morning. The movers would have all of my stuff packed up and driven to Ann Arbor by Wednesday. Except for the furniture. The realtor said the condo would sell faster with the furniture in it so we were leaving it for now.

And that was it. That was all it took. Thursday he told me he wanted a divorce and Monday morning I was on the first flight to DTW. I left behind Hope, my amazing condo and a city I loved as if it were a family member. But I was also on my way to gaining back my independence and all of the things that made me, me, before I met Caleb. I was gaining the ability to think for myself and make my own decisions and make my own flight arrangements, when needed.

The funny thing about it, though, was that I had no idea what the hell I was doing. The one who planned everything, in a borderline-OCD kind of way, was doing something unplanned. I didn’t know what was before me, but I had faith that whatever it was, it was better than what I was leaving behind – somebody cue the soundtrack guy, please. I think something uplifting would be suitable here.

Once the plane had taken off and the fun part was over, I reached into my tote bag for a magazine. A white envelope fell out of a copy of
Self
. First, I thought it was a heartfelt apologetic goodbye letter from Caleb, but since I didn’t see any pigs flying outside of my window, I knew that couldn’t be the case. I opened it up. It was from Hope. She must have snuck it into my bag when she came over to say goodbye.

It was written on two pieces of college-ruled lined notebook paper stapled together. I looked out the window again. Nope, still no pigs. She must have borrowed some supplies from the American Museum of Natural History. That or she made a special stop at Duane Reade. I definitely appreciated the effort. A handwritten letter to a friend is better than any email, text, Facebook message, tweet or any other form of technological correspondence.

Dear Friend,

I’m really proud of you for taking this leap of faith. And even though I’m going to miss you
like crazy
, I understand why you have to go. My only concern is that you are going to be building a new life without my wisdom and guidance, which I think we both agree is an influence you really shouldn’t be without. No offense, Rox, but you don’t have the best track record when it comes to making decisions on your own. I mean, you
are
the one who married that jackass to begin with. And I’m not sure if I can trust these Michigan people either. If I leave your summer activities up to them, you might end up wearing denim overalls and shooting beer cans off a tree trunk while eating deer jerky with the three teeth you have left.

That’s why I’m volunteering to act as your sponsor. I’ve done a lot of thinking this weekend, and I’ve come up with a way that I can keep you moving in the right direction from several states away. It’s called the Good Life List and it’s your new syllabus. Remember when I threw that bachelorette party for Lindsay and everyone had to complete tasks in order to win a free day at the spa? This is kind of like that, except I’m not handing out hits of ecstasy and there aren’t any bonus points for performing oral sex in public. I created this list with you in mind so it’s meant to be more classy than trashy.

On the next page you will find your Good Life List. You need to complete each challenge on the list by the end of the summer. I know you are always saying that there are no dress rehearsals in life, but I disagree. Since you’re thinking about going back to school you’ll probably have figured out what the hell you’re going to do with your life by the time fall semester starts. But right now you have no one to impress – (except me ;), no one to answer to – (except me ;) and no one to please – (except me ;).

This is your in-between. This is your dress rehearsal. So go on now and make me proud, little one. Oh, and please, for the love of all that is holy, if you even think about marrying someone because his last name sounds good with Roxie, you call me first so I can smack some sense into your pretty little head! Love you! Muah XOXO

By the time I finished reading the letter I was laughing out loud while dabbing tears from my eyes. That girl is crazy, but I love her.

I flipped over to the second page. On the top line she had written
The Good Wife
. Then she crossed out the word
Wife
and wrote
Life
.
The Good Life.
Underneath the title was the list of challenges she wanted me to complete this summer.

1.
     
Sunbathe in the nude.

2.
     
Get thrown out of a bar.

3.
     
Do something nice for a stranger.

4.
     
Go skinny dipping in someone else’s pool without their permission.

5.
     
Have sex for fun and not to make a baby. You should probably use a condom, too. Remember, classy not trashy.

6.
     
Get your picture taken in a photo booth … topless.

7.
     
Give that picture to someone.

8.
     
Wear a miniskirt in public without underwear.

9.
     
Tell somebody (preferably somebody you’re attracted to) that you’re not wearing anything under your skirt.

10.
 
Pee in the shower.

11.
 
Wash a car while wearing a bikini.

12.
 
Go into a toy store and use a hula hoop for at least 1 minute.

13.
 
Watch a sunset.

14.
 
Watch a sunrise.

15.
 
Take a nap in a park.

16.
 
Start a food fight.

17.
 
Play in the rain.

18.
 
Burst into song in public like you’re the star of a musical, and get at least one other person, a stranger, to sing along.

19.
 
Sleep outside overnight.

20.
 
Get drunk!

21.
 
Swing on the swings at a playground.

22.
 
Go into a department store and make a divorce registry.

23.
 
Mail out divorce announcements.

24.
 
Make out with a stranger.

25.
 
Volunteer at a homeless shelter.

26.
 
Host a party and serve at least ten recipes you’ve never made before.

27.
 
Drive around in your car until you find someone who is jogging and then follow the person while blasting the song “The Final Countdown” by Europe. (Just kidding about this one. But if you do it, please make sure you get it on video).

Wow. That was quite a list. Some things were disgusting (peeing in the shower – gross). Some things sounded kind of fun, like skinny dipping. I could probably play in the rain and nap in a park without a problem. But there were some that really pushed my boundaries. Going commando under a miniskirt! Washing a car in a bikini! Bursting into song like I’m on
Glee
! Those things took guts – guts I didn’t have. I may have had such guts about ten years ago, but while my literal gut got bigger, my proverbial gut seemed to disappear.

I was starting to realize what Allison meant when she said I needed to act like my old self again. She had a point. And Hope had been right-on with her Cooper’s Beach assessment. It sucked that it took so long for them to get through to me, but I couldn’t dwell on time wasted. All I could do now was look forward. I was ready to be fun and happy again, even if it meant peeing on myself.

CHAPTER SIX

I called Allison when the plane landed so she could head over from the waiting lot to pick me up. All I had on me was my carry-on and large purse/tote so I was able to skip the luggage area and walk right out the door into the beautiful, warm, sunny day.

The passenger pick-up lane was a no-bullshit, hurry-the-fuck-up kind of place that’s heavily enforced by big bouncer-type security guards. For that reason, there wasn’t any time for squeals and hugs when Allison pulled up. I ran to the back of her minivan and saw the decals on the back glass; a stick-figure family of five, plus one stick-dog and two stick-cats and what looked like a stick-hamster or possibly rat. I popped open the hatchback, threw in my as-big-as-the-airlines-allow carry-on and hopped in the front seat in a matter of about two seconds. She pulled away before I even had my seatbelt on.
Then
she squealed.

You know that sentimental saying about how you know you have a great friend when you can go months or even years without speaking and as soon as you see each other again it’s like no time has passed at all? That’s Allison and me. There’s never any stiff handshakes or awkward silences between us. There’s no reason for me to pretend around her either. She is not impressed with money or anything that it can buy.