CHAPTER 1
“A Not-So-Happy Ending”
I smoothed out the front of my Stanford-red dress, which I wore for my son Jamie’s law school graduation. It was a magical day, not a cloud in the sky and the air filled with proud parents and graduates with job offers from the country’s biggest law firms.
My son was no different. Immediately after the ceremony, he would be on his way to New York City, a Midtown apartment, and a hefty mid-six-figure starting salary. I had a pack of Kleenex in my purse, and by the time he was handed his diploma, I had gone through it.
There’s something noble about raising a child. In my case, the nobility didn’t lie in sacrificing my body to pregnancy, staying up with him through the night when he had the croup, or being team mother for eight consecutive years of Little League. No, the nobility lay in the love I felt for him. Unconditional, overwhelming love. It poured out of me from the moment I saw Jamie’s cute little newborn face and continued through the end of his law school graduation ceremony.
I slipped my hand under my husband’s arm and took his hand. Our love burned just as bright as it always had. We had been speaking about this moment for years. The second our son was grown and the college bills no longer had to be paid, Steve and I were going to start the next phase in our lives and relationship. Romantic cruises around the world, gourmet cooking classes, and an RV trip across the country were all on the menu. In fact, I had a surprise picnic planned for our trip home from Stanford. There was a picnic basket hidden in the trunk of Steve’s Cadillac, and I was going to have him stop on a nice stretch of beach just south of here so that we could get a head start on the best time of our lives.
Nothing could be more perfect.
And that’s how my life was: Perfect.
The graduates threw their caps up in the air, and then it was done. Our child was grown. We took family pictures while I cried some more and then watched my baby walk away toward his perfect future. I swallowed down my tears and squeezed Steve’s hand, getting the emotional support I needed.
But as Jamie left and disappeared into the crowd, my husband dropped my hand and took a step away from me. “There. That’s done,” he said.
“It’s a big day,” I agreed. “We have a lot to be proud of.”
“I’m leaving you, Eliza.”
“You have to go to the bathroom? I told you not to drink so much coffee.”
He put his hands in his pockets and stared me down. “No. I’m leaving you. You know, forever.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “You had a physical two weeks ago. You’re the picture of health. You have the heart of a thirty-year-old and an age-appropriate prostate.”
“No. I’m not dying, Eliza. Not dying that way. I’m leaving you. I’ve filed for divorce.”
I looked around to see if anybody had heard our conversation. Luckily, everyone was focused on their own family, joyous in the events of the day. My husband’s face was set in stone and dead serious. I wondered if he was having a psychotic break or an aneurysm.
Or maybe it was grief for losing his son to adulthood.
“Steve, I think you’re just emotional, and that’s understandable. It was a big day. Lots of sun, and you didn’t wear a hat, even though I brought one for you and told you to put it on.”
Steve rolled his eyes and walked away toward the parking structure. I followed him, trying to keep up in the uncomfortable shoes I had worn for the occasion. “Hold on, hold on,” I called. “Let’s talk about this.”
He didn’t stop, and I didn’t catch up to him until we were at the car. He took his car fob out of his pocket and beeped the car unlocked…but just the driver’s side.
“Steve, what’s this about? We need to talk.”
He opened his door. “There’s nothing to talk about, Eliza. I don’t love you. I’ve never loved you.”
I gasped and took a step back as if I had been punched. “But you took me to the prom. We got married during homecoming because you said you couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with me.”
He wasn’t moved. He was stone-faced, without emotion. “Ancient history.”
“I gave birth while you graduated,” I squeaked. My voice was a couple of octaves higher than normal, and even though I cleared my throat, I still sounded like I was welcoming Dorothy to Oz. “You said I was the most beautiful mother you had ever seen.”
“That’sdefinitelyancient history.”
I hiccoughed back sobs. “I waitressed overnights to pay your way through business school with Jamie in a crib in the restaurant’s kitchen. You called me your hero. You said we would have a life of love and togetherness.”
“You sucked me dry, Eliza. You’re a joy sucker.” He made a sucking nose as if he was trying to suck ping pong balls through a hose. “Joy sucker. Twenty-five years of joy sucking. No wonder your lips look like that.”
My hands flew to my mouth. What was wrong with my lips? I was wearing Riding Red lipstick. The saleslady said I looked like Julianne Moore in it. Steve started to get into the car, but I planted my feet on the floor and yanked his arm. I was starting to believe he really was leaving me.
