They all laugh. I smile, but I’m not sure where I stand on any of this. I suppose that it’s better to divorce and be with the one you’re going to be with than to spend your life sneaking around. As has happened so often in my life, I’m not sure whether any of my girls, all chattering around me, notices my silence or lack of contribution to the conversation.
Louise chimes in, as spiritually as one could expect, “You only get one chance to live an authentic life. If this is it, then there’s no fighting it.”
Jean, predictably the devil’s advocate and the voice of unemotional reason, adds, “But, Sally, what about Doug?”
“Yeah,” Martha chimes in. “Are you sure it’s over?”
I smile, though I’m not sure why. Maybe it is because Sally has stood at her own divide and, instead of taking the hand of her husband, she chose a different path. I would have told her, had she asked, that no one is perfect. I’m sure she thinks she loves Kyle, but give it a few years and he will be just as imperfect as Doug. The newnessand the passion will have worn off to an extent. I have seen this so many times in my years. But a mother knows when her daughter won’t listen. She knows when to bite her tongue. And so I did and, on this particular issue, will continue to do so.
I want to judge her for abandoning her life or feel embarrassed by what people are going to say as my family is in the midst of yet another scandal, but I am too old, too tired and too sad for all of that. Life is the choices we make, and, I am reminded again, I can’t choose for them.
Sally squeezes my knee. I am sitting in the only chair left in the room, a leather wingback that was Dan’s favorite. All of my girls are sitting around my feet, and, as if I have rewound the tape fifty-five years, I expect them to argue over what board game to play. I almost look over to Dan, in his chair, grinning behind his newspaper at the world he cocreated. But when I turn my head, he isn’t there. And, in some ways, I’m glad he isn’t here for this part.
But, as I look around, I know that my girls will take care of Sally. And they will take care of Jean while she takes care of Annabelle. And so on and so forth for the rest of their lives, no matter what the world sends their way. Life will change without us here to bring them all together every holiday, but they are strong. They love each other and they will stick up for each other the way they always have. I’d like to think that I had something to do with that.
“I’m so sorry, Momma,” Sally says, the tears filling her eyes. “I know this isn’t what you need right now.”
But, in truth, I’m happy for the distraction. Worrying about one of my daughters is the only diversion for the void so wide and so thick and so deep that I know the only way out is to close my eyes and not open them again.
“You know what, darlings? My prayer every night was that theLord would keep you safe and happy. Safe and happy,” I repeated. “Not married to the same man, not free from heartbreak or small-town scandal or away from hard choices. Only safe and happy.” I smiled at all of them. “I have to say that, sitting here now, it appears every last one of you is both safe and happy.”
And that’s when I knew. My job here was done.
Annabelle
Invisible Hand
Lovey always says that, at the end of the day, all a girl really needs to get through this life is a good dose of gumption. And I was trying to gather all of mine as I was sitting in the passenger seat, Rob driving through that same Salisbury historic district that had become my bed-and-breakfast home the past few months.
“Are you sure they’re going to be okay with this?” I asked Rob for the thousandth time.
He squeezed my hand. “Annabelle, you are the loveliest person I’ve ever known. My family isn’t going to care that you married some guy who was dumb enough to cheat on you. They’re going to love you as much as I do.”
I looked over at him. He was so handsome, so sincere. “So, can I still work for you now that we’re sort of romantically entangled?”
He looked over. “Hmmm... I don’t know. I don’t think anyone would really care, do you?”
I laughed. “Well, let’s see. They cared an awful lot about havinga guitarist at the ten thirty service, and I’m still hearing about how a professional chef won the chili cook-off. So, yeah, I’d say this will be on their radar.”
He shrugged. “You have to, because otherwise I won’t have anyone fun to do my first thing of the day with.”
“True.”
A wave of sadness that I might not be working with Rob washed over me. And it occurred to me that, while I had taken it as a part-time gig until I found something new, as it turned out, the work of the church fulfilled me. There, I felt like my work had a purpose.
We pulled past Mrs. Taylor’s grand, columned home. I sighed, realizing how much I loved this neighborhood’s wide sidewalks and shady trees. This town had become a part of my story, and, even though I wanted to get as far away from Ben and his family as I could, I knew that I was going to have to grow up and deal with it.
Mom and Dad pulled into the driveway right behind us. When I told them that I was seeing Rob, Mom gave me the lecture that I thought would never end. “You’re rushing into this. You aren’t even divorced yet. You’re making the same mistake twice.”
But Dad had, in his predictably calming way, said, “Jean, for heaven’s sake. Let her move on. Could you have handpicked a better man for your daughter than Rob?”
We hadn’t exactly dropped the engagement bomb on them yet. We thought that maybe if we told both sets of parents together that it might be a little less of a shock. Well, actually, it would be more of a shock, but no one could make a scene about it because they had the others to save face in front of.
And we would have to do it soon because my engagement ring was more than a little hard to hide.
Rob rang the doorbell, and I handed his grandmother a bouquetof flowers and said, “Hi, Mrs. Taylor. It’s so nice to see you.” I grinned widely at her, hoping that she couldn’t smell my nervousness.
She peered down at my hand, not so much as venturing a smile, and I looked over my shoulder, happy that my mom was still jabbering away on her Bluetooth in the car. “My ring looks good on you.”
