“I’ve been straight keto for six months now, but that Cheez Whiz and those Ritz crackers…” Addie said. Addie was the least appearance-oriented of us all, and certainly the most athletic. She was toned at any size, but she had complained for years about the weight she had gained when baby numberthree came two days before her fortieth birthday. She always looked great, and I was about to say so when Marcy asked: “When did we get too good for Cheez Whiz? I mean, really. Are we so fancy now that we can’t enjoy a good microwaved appetizer every now and then?”
“Why do we punish ourselves like this?” Mary Ellen groaned.
I shrugged. “I know nothing is supposed to taste as good as thin feels, but”—I held up a whing-ding—“this tastes damn good.”
My friends laughed, and Megan said, “Well, Gray, I guess even in the midst of the divorce carbs are magic. That’s something, right? So maybe it could always be worse?”
I nodded.
“Yeah,” Mary Ellen chimed in, raising her glass. “He could have left you for a dude.”
I gestured to her and made a face. “Yeah. Is that worse?” I asked. “When your husband leaves you for a man? Or is it worse when he leaves you for a woman?” Mary Ellen was probably the only person in the world who could answer both of those questions from firsthand experience.
Marcy burst out laughing, while saying, “I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t be funny at all.”
Megan joined her laughter, and then, finally, Mary Ellen started laughing too.
Megan said, “How many people can honestly answer that?”
Mary Ellen rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I mean, Iknow.” Then she raised her glass again. “Here’s hoping third time’s the charm.”
“Hear! Hear!” I said. We all laughed again, and I turned to Marcy. “So, my love, have you told the girls?”
They all leaned in a little, excited for whatever piece of gossip was getting ready to come their way.
“Let’s not make too big a thing of it,” Marcy said. “Who knows if it will even happen?”
“It won’t happen if you don’t put it out there,” Megan responded. She looked less ethereal with her cropped hair, but she still sounded it.
“Fine,” Marcy sighed. “I am officially husband hunting.”
Addie dropped her whing-ding. “Seriously? But you’re our cool single friend.”
“She’s not wrong,” I said. “I was kind of counting on you to be like my dating guru.”
“You all need to hush,” Mary Ellen chimed in. “If this is what will make Marcy happy, then we will be happy for her.”
“But only if it means a wedding planning commission for you,” Addie said with a totally straight face. More laughter as Mary Ellen threw a pig in a blanket at Addie. She missed, and we all squealed as an expectant seagull that had been waiting patiently on the end of the dock swooped down and carried it away.
When the laughter stopped, Megan turned to me and said, “So, seriously, a year in, does it feel different? I mean, can you move past it a little?” She paused, then whispered, “Do you miss your old life?”
I didn’t really want to talk about it, but if you don’t have friends to talk about this stuff with, to really bare your soul to, who do you have? “Well, y’all know I never wanted that monstrosity of a house anyway. Brooke and her twenty-eight-year-old cleavage can keep that.”
It was true. When my husband had finally started making money, it was like he couldn’t contain himself. He wanted the biggest house on the street, to take private jets on every vacation—while, of course, posting the photos, because how could you know something was good unless you could make your friends jealous? He wanted more and more and more, so I guess I should have seen it coming. Our pretty, normal-size home wasn’t enough. Two nice cars weren’t enough when you could have four. A big boat wasn’t enough when you could have a bigger one. And your loving wife wasn’t enough when you could have a younger one.
I hoped for Wagner’s sake, and, in truth, for Brooke’s, that a total life change would be enough for Greg to fill that giant hole that I couldn’t. My thoughts flashed to Brooke again, and I started to feel sad for her. She would get swept up in it all as girls do when they’re young. But in the end, she would forgo her own identity for that of a man who already had a past and a son—not to mention a poor track record with commitment.
Had I moved on? And then I said, “You know, I don’t miss him. I don’t even really miss the consistency of our life anymore. But until everything is settled, until our divorce is final, I think I will feel trapped by him.” I still couldn’t reconcile howsomeone you had loved so much could change so completely toward you so quickly. It took my breath away.
They all looked sympathetic. This wasn’t our first divorce in this group.
Addie said, “I just can’t believe he had the nerve to tell you he was leaving and then stay all those months like nothing had happened and then abandon you the day after your mom’s funeral.” She looked at me pointedly. “Gray, you win for worst divorce.”
Mary Ellen nodded in agreement.
“Yay,” I said with the least enthusiasm I could muster. They all laughed.
Those had been the worst six months of my life, but, in all honesty, having Greg stay, even under those horrible circumstances, was easier. I was with my mom as much as humanly possible, and I never had to worry about where Wagner would go or how to balance that. Looking back, it seems impossible, but in the moment, it felt necessary. I didn’t have time to analyze what was going on or what would come in the next phase. I could only think of how to get to the next day.
