“Well, I mean, it’s Greg. Okay is about as enthusiastic as he gets.”
“How do you feel?” Nina asked.
“I feel like I just performed surgery on my own marriage, sitting at the kitchen table with no anesthesia.”
“Well, that sounds about right,” Harper said.
“But I also feel very relieved,” Claire said.
Saying this even surprised her because relief wasn’t the emotion she’d expected. She had expected fear, maybe grief or nausea, from saying things she couldn’t take back at this point. But beneath it all, she felt a looseness in her chest that hadn’t been there before.
“You did a very brave thing,” Nina said. “And that’s what this whole pact was for, not just so we could go sing karaoke or jump in the ocean. This kind of stuff. This real scary stuff.”
“Well, the real scary stuff is a lot scarier than the fun scary stuff we’ve been doing.”
“Always is,” Harper said.
They stayed on the phone for about another twenty minutes. Harper told them Jordan had asked her to dinner, a real dinner, not a coffee. She had actually said yes and was trying not to spiral about it. Her voice had a different quality when she talked about Jordan now. It was softer and less guarded.
Nina told them she’d gotten a text from Sam. It wasn’t anything dramatic, just, “I enjoyed meeting you. Would you want to get coffee sometime?” She hadn’t responded to it yet, but she was thinking about it.
“What’s to think about?” Harper asked.
“Well, everything. Nothing, actually. I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I’m ready or if I feel like I’m ready or if that’s something you decide.”
“It is something you decide,” Claire said. She was now lying on the guest room bed, staring at the ceiling. “Ready isn’t something that arrives on a schedule, Nina. It’s a thing you choose when you’re still scared. Say yes to the coffee, to all of it. Just say yes, and then you can figure out the rest later.”
Nina was quiet for a moment. “Okay.”
“Wow, we have lots of okays tonight,” Harper said. “Greg’s okay, Nina’s okay. I said yes to dinner. We’re making some progress here, people.”
“Well, it sure doesn’t feel like progress over here,” Claire said. “But I do feel like I’m standing on the edge of something, possibly a cliff.”
“That’s what progress feels like,” Nina said. “Trust me, I’ve been standing on the edge for months. The view is terrifying, but beautiful at times.”
They said goodnight. Claire hung up and lay there for a while longer, listening to the creaks and croaks of her old house. Greg’s television was off. The den was dark. In fact, the whole house was dark and quiet.
Somewhere down the hall, her husband was lying in their bed alone, hopefully and probably staring at the ceiling the same way she was. They were in the same house, in the same marriage. And finally, after twenty-six years of chicken and counting to three, they had told each other the truth.
Claire picked up the phone and typed a text to Greg. She deleted it three times before finally settling on,
Thank you for listening tonight.
His response came after a long pause.
I’m sorry about the gift card.
She looked at that text for a very long time.
It’s not just about the gift card, Greg.
Another long pause.
I know. Well, at least I think I’m starting to know.
It was a small, uncertain beginning, a text at midnight from the man in the next room who was trying, clumsily and belatedly, to learn how to see her, this woman he’d married so long ago.
It wasn’t enough, but it was a start.
