“I’ve been thinking about something,” he said, “but wanted to wait until Andrew left.” He had the decency not to look away, to wait for her to take the gist of his meaning.
Normally she would have whisked off the towel to dry her hair, but she felt his words coming and couldn’t bear to receive them naked.
“I’m going to get my own place.” He finally turned to face her. Even in that terrible moment it struck her that he’d missed a bit of shaving cream. A tiny blot between his mouth and chin. “I’ll pay half the mortgage as long as you want to stay. There’s no rush to sell.”
“Is there someone else?” In the overheated bathroom, she was starting to shiver.
“There’s no one else. There’s just no us anymore.” He handed her a towel for her hair. “I’m forty-eight years old, Cassie. I’m tired of phoning it in. I want to be happy. When’s the last time we were happy?”
“You’ve been phoning it in?” She was still holding the extra towel, couldn’t quite manage to get it to her hair. “Why didn’t you say something? People work on marriages, we can go to counseling. Now that Andrew’s gone, it’ll just be us.” But she saw his eyes dart toward the bathroom door, looking for the exit.
“Counseling isn’t going to help. You have to want to make it work to go to counseling.”
“And you don’t.” Later, when she thought about it—how he didn’t even want to try—she was flattened, but at that moment her hair was dripping down her back and all she felt was cold and numb. And unbelievably stupid for thinking they had time to fix it.
“There’s nothing left to work on. We’ve run out of steam. What’s the point of going to counseling just to wind up here a year from now? We’re both young enough to start over.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Who is she?”
“Really, there’s no one.” But she never believed him because before she knew it Andrew reported Dad was seeing someone new. The someone turned out to be Natalie, predictably blonde and a dozen years younger, who was now busy planning their wedding.
She dropped her jacket and purse on a kitchen chair. She didn’t want to revisit that old history. “Have you talked to Andrew?” she said. Aside from Phil’s presence, the apartment looked the same, with its orderly bookshelves and clean contemporary furniture. She’d thought it would be reassuring to be home, but in some ways, it felt like stepping into someone else’s pristine life.
Phil shut his laptop. “Let me tell you Andrew was a real smart ass to me this morning. I called to see what was going on, and he said he would figure it out. So I reminded him that he’d better figure it out fast because we’re on the hook for $28,000 for this semester’s tuition.”
“I hope you weren’t too hard on him.”
Phil snorted. “I’d like to see a little responsibility on his end. He can’t just walk away.”
“He said he was going to file for incompletes.”
“He needs to hurry up before he misses the deadline.” Phil was in no mood to coddle him.
Cassie sighed. “I’ll remind him. You know, you might cut him a little slack with everything that’s happened. I think he’s upset about the wedding too.” Talking about the wedding gave her a tight unhappy feeling, but Phil needed to hear it. “He’s probably wondering where it leaves him, you getting a new family and all.”
“That’s ridiculous. Nothing’s going to change,” Phil said, but he looked a little sheepish.
“Well, there it is.”
“Anyway, I can’t tell you what a mistake this is, him leaving school. He should have been on that plane Wednesday.”
“He’s hurting, Phil. I don’t know if you realize that.”
“Of course I realize it, but dropping out of school won’t solve anything.” He was wearing his most aggravated expression. “Why couldn’t you talk some sense into him?”
“Why couldn’tI? You had him for three days, why didn’t you talk to him?” She wanted to add that if he hadn’t been so busy dragging Andrew off to see Natalie and the kids they might have had more time together. But that would just antagonize him.
“What the hell’s he doing up there anyway? How long is he going to stay with your dad?”
“I don’t know. Right now he’s sleeping a lot. I think he’s depressed. I made him an appointment with Dr. Milburn so at least he can take a look at him.” Maybe Dr. Milburn would get him to open up because she hadn’t had any luck.
Phil rubbed the back of his head where his hair was thinning. He’d always been vain about his thick, wavy hair, and she couldn’t help feeling a smidge of satisfaction that he was starting to lose it. “All right, but if he’s not going to be in school, he needs an internship or something. I can make a few calls. He can’t just wallow around up there. That’s not healthy either.”
“He’s not wallowing, Phil.” She lowered herself onto the ottoman. “It’s only been a few days. His friend might have permanent brain damage. Did he tell you that?”
Phil let go a sigh. “Yeah, he told me. I can’t even imagine.” Their eyes met for a brief moment, wordlessly sharing the unthinkable. “I didn’t tell him about the apartment,” he said. “I thought we should meet first.”
They sat silently for a minute, absorbing the finality of this. Andrew had been sad but resigned about the divorce, but the apartment was something else. The only place he’d ever lived. “I’ll talk to him,” she said.
