“What if he doesn’t show up?” said Annabelle.
“He’ll show up,” said Eddie. “He’ll be in contempt if he doesn’t.”
“Well what if he shows up but says he doesn’t want the divorce?”
“What if you were to stop worrying about it?” said Eddie.
“I was like this the night before we got married,” Annabelle said. “I was absolutely convinced that he wouldn’t show up, that he’d leave me standing at the altar.”
“If only he had,” whispered Eddie.
She was strangely calm in the morning. After taking Sarah to school, Annabelle drove to the courthouse, and found her way to the hearing room. She was supposed to appear at nine but discovered that half the room was to appear then and she would have to wait until her case was called. Her elderly lawyer, Eileen O’Malley, showed up at 8:50, and a few minutes later Dennis arrived.
Eileen sat next to Annabelle and quietly reiterated that the entire process should take no more than two minutes. The judge would ask if she and Dennis wanted the divorce; they would both say yes and then it would be over.
Dennis sat across the room from her, scowling. Annabelle pointed him out to Eileen, who said, “He’s so morose. How did you stand it?”
Finally they were called.
Dennis said “Yes” when the judge asked if he wanted the divorce. The judge looked up because Dennis spat out the word.
Then it was over.
Dennis quickly left and didn’t look back.
Outside the hearing room, Eileen shook Annabelle’s hand.
“Well, congratulations, now it’s finally over. Good luck. Let me know if anything else comes up. I have to get back to the office.”
Annabelle sat on a hall bench and waited a few minutes before descending the courthouse stairs. Once outside, near her car, she found Dennis waiting for her. His eyes were red and wet.
“Well I guess that’s it,” he said.
Annabelle nodded.
“My life is over,” he said.
Annabelle looked away.
“Your life is just beginning, Dennis. Now you’re free. You never wanted to be married anyway.”
Her clammy hands clutched her briefcase, which dangled before her. Her car sat in the beating sun. She reached for her keys, and then paused.
“I guess you’re right, Annie. I never really wanted to marry you. But we made a great kid, didn’t we?”
“We did. Are you going to start seeing her again?”
“I think I’m gonna move on. I’m moving to Canada. I don’t know.”
“Why don’t you go back to school for your art? You could become a graphic artist.”
“No. Life just sucks, I don’t care.”
“Well I’ve got to go,” she said.
“I hope you have a good life,” he said.
“You too.”
“I guess we should have done this a long time ago.”
“That would have saved a lot of stress on both of us, wouldn’t it,” she agreed.
“Listen.” He paused. “I really don’t want there to be hard feelings between us. It’s best for Sarah if we can get along. We’re divorced now, can we just go get a cup of coffee and talk about things?”
Annabelle stared at the street. Finally she nodded and they got into her car.
They sat on wrought-iron patio chairs in a small Italian bakery. Annabelle watched the revolving pastry case filled with whipped-cream cakes and felt her stomach turn along with the desserts.
Neither spoke. Finally she said, “I really think you should go back to school for art. I’ve always admired your paintings.”
Dennis stared into space.
“Well, what are you going to do now?” she said.
He started to cry.
“I guess we should go now,” she said, gulping her tea. It was hot. It burnt her throat.
Dennis followed her to her car. Neither spoke. She dropped him off at his apartment, then drove home, called Eddie, and described all that had happened.
Eddie said, “Uh oh.”
“What’s wrong?”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I know. But he looked so forlorn. It always takes him a long time to adjust to changes.”
“You need to just stay away from him, Annabelle. If you give him an inch he’ll take it for all it’s worth.”
“Well I won’t see him any more,” she said.
“I love you,” he said.
Her response stuck in her scalded throat.
That afternoon Annabelle scrubbed the bathtub and kitchen floor, intent on getting her house in order.
The whole thing had seemed too easy, so uncharacteristic of their chaotic marriage.
She picked up Sarah after school.
“You didn’t tell me I didn’t have to go to after-school today,” Sarah happily said. “Are you and Daddy divorced now?”
Annabelle nodded.
Sarah sat in the kitchen while Annabelle kneaded a loaf a rye bread.
“Do we have to do anything else?” asked Sarah, half-heartedly reading her social-studies book.
“About what?” said Annabelle.
“About the divorce? Is that all you have to do?”
“Yup. That’s it,” said Annabelle, shaping the loaf into a large glass pan.
Sarah closed her book. “Can I go ride my bike?”
Annabelle nodded. Soon after Sarah had gone outside, the front door screen slammed and she ran back into the house, carrying a bouquet of roses.
“Daddy’s outside,” she said, frowning. “He told me to give you these. He told me that we’ll never see him again.”
Annabelle washed and dried her hands, told Sarah to stay in the kitchen, and walked out on the porch.
“Thank you for the flowers, Dennis,” she said, “but I don’t want them.”
“I wanted to give them to you before I die,” he said.
“You’re going to die?”
“Yes, I’m going to kill myself now,” he said, getting in his car. He started the engine and drove away.
Annabelle went back in the apartment and sat at her kitchen table.
“What’s going on?” said Sarah.
“Can you go watch television for a little while?” asked Annabelle.
“Can’t I ride my bike?”
“No, don’t go outside right now. I have to think.”
As soon as Sarah was sitting in the living room with the TV switched on Annabelle called Eddie, and described what had happened.
“Well, you better call the police,” he said.
“I hate this. I knew it seemed too easy. I knew he’d do something like this.”
“Or call someone in his family. Call his sister, the one you like. If someone threatens suicide, you really have to try to stop them.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“This is hard. Do you want me to come over?”
“No,” she said, hanging up.
She called Dennis’s sister Ellen.
“Oh Jesus,” shouted Ellen. “When did this happen?”
“A few minutes ago.”
“Have you called the police?”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll call them. Did he say where he was going?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m going to call the police now.”
While the dinner noodles boiled, the doorbell rang. Two patrol officers, a young woman and a middle-aged man, stood outside. Annabelle invited them in.
The woman had short dark hair and a walkie-talkie. She asked Annabelle to explain exactly what had happened.
“We’ve alerted the cruisers in town to look for him. We’d like to wait here and see if he gets in touch with you.”
Annabelle served Sarah some spinach noodles with butter. The telephone rang.
Annabelle moved the phone to the living room.
“Hi Annie,” breathed Dennis. “What are you doing?”
She could hear the alcohol in his voice.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“When we went out today I knew you still loved me. I know you do, Annie. Just give it up, OK?”
“Dennis, where are you?” Annabelle looked at the female officer who then signalled to the other officer waiting in the patrol car.
“We’re trying to trace it,” whispered the woman.
Annabelle held her hand over the mouthpiece and nodded.
“Just keep him on,” said the woman.
“I want to fuck you so hard,” said Dennis, “I just want to fuck you so hard. I know you want me, just admit it.”
Annabelle looked at the phone.
“Are you there?” he shouted.
“Where are you, Dennis?”
The walkie-talkie made a sudden, high-pitched, static sound.
“Are there cops there Annie?” he said, his voice quick.
“Why would there be?—”
He hung up the phone.
Annabelle looked at the policewoman who stood up and went outside to the cruiser. Moments later she returned, saying, “We’ll just have to wait for him to call back.”
Annabelle asked her to sit down. They began talking about the town, the loveliness of Gardenia, and boy, can’t men be jerks.
“Can you guess why I wanted the divorce?” said Annabelle.
She felt that nauseating excitement, just like old times. Dennis always liked to fight in loud, dramatic ways. Soon he called back and the process began again.
Dennis described his sexual desires in ever greater graphic detail while Annabelle held the phone away from her ear, tuning in only long enough to hear him shout, “Are you listening to me?” And she would say “Yes” and he would resume the verbal rape. She found herself meditating on her guilt: was this punishment somehow deserved, after what she’d asked from Eddie in the pine grove?
Three times Dennis hung up, and then called back. After another hour, the policeman outside yelled, “We found him! He’s at the booth in back of the Pawn’s Pride.”
The officer inside explained that Dennis would be taken to a psychiatric hospital in Waltham and thanked Annabelle for her assistance. Then they left.
Annabelle had helped Sarah get ready for bed throughout the deepening chaos. Now Sarah stood on her bed in her pyjamas, her chubby hands on her thin hips.
“So Daddy is crazy,” said Sarah, “I know that he is, Mom.”
“He had a bad day,” explained Annabelle.
They lay down together and sang each other to sleep.
The telephone woke Annabelle in the morning. She answered it in a weary mental fog.
“Hello?” she said, expecting Eddie’s voice.
“Hello,” said Dennis.
Annabelle felt a sharp shock. No.
“Where are you?” she said.
“I’m at a phone booth.”
“What? What?”
“Do you know what happened? They handcuffed me, and then they took me to a stupid, frigging mental hospital.”
“They let you out?!”
“No one stopped me. You really do hate me, don’t you,” he seethed.
“You escaped!” she shouted, slamming down the phone.
She called Eddie.
“Come on over,” he said, “I’ll take the day off.”
“What about Sarah? I don’t know if I should send her to school today.”
“I’d send her, but tell her teacher and the school office that her father is not allowed to pick her up. In your agreement he has to have permission from you to see her, right?”
“Yes he does,” she sighed. “I have physical custody, so he has to ask first.”
“Make sure they know that, and then come over here. We’ll figure out what to do when you get here.”
After taking Sarah to school and talking to her teacher and the principal about Dennis, Annabelle stopped back at her apartment to call Daryl.
“I’m not coming in today.” She described the events of the previous night.
“Can you stay at Ed’s this weekend?” said Daryl.
“I don’t think I should. I’d worry about Sarah saying we stayed at her mother’s boyfriend’s house. It would just complicate things right now. I might go to a motel.”
“Stay here,” said Daryl.
“Come on, it’s a big house,” said Daryl. “It wouldn’t be a problem. It’s not even mine.”
“OK,” she finally said. “If you’re sure we won’t inconvenience you.”
“Meet me at the office at five,” he said. “You can follow me over.”
After packing overnight clothes for herself and for Sarah, Annabelle started out the door. Then she paused, went back to the kitchen, and called Dennis’s sister.
“I’m just going out the door,” said Ellen. “He called me from a bus station. I’m going to pick him up.”
“So they just let him out? Just like that?”
“Yeah, they said he was intoxicated but didn’t appear to be suicidal. They couldn’t hold him in the psychiatric unit for that. But he shouldn’t have been driving so now he has other problems with the police. Maybe this time we’ll be able to control him a little bit.”
“Sarah and I are going to stay at a friend’s house tonight. Can I call you tomorrow and find out how things are going?”
“Yeah,” said Ellen, “he’s got to get his act together this time. We have too much to worry about with Mom. We’re going to get him to straighten out and fly right.”
Eddie had taken the plastic sheets of insulation off the windows in his apartment. Annabelle lay with him on his futon as they stared through clear glass after sharing tea and bagels and lighting incense and candles.
“I probably don’t need to be here,” Annabelle said after a time. “I’m sorry you took the day off from work. Dennis’s little escapades always set off chain reactions. We took sick days and his sister probably did too. And Sarah’s school is watching for him and last night the entire police force in Gardenia got involved. He likes to share his problems.”
“He likes to transfer them to anyone willing to go along,” said Eddie, “I’ve never heard of anyone with so many codependent relationships before. Can we not talk about him for a while?”
They were both silent for a long time.
“Do you want to talk about getting married?” asked Annabelle.
She looked at Eddie. He smiled, nodded.
“Do you want to set a date right now?” he asked.
“No, but I was just thinking about something. You know that when I married Dennis I didn’t take his name. I don’t think women should symbolically lose their identity that way. When we get married you don’t want me to take your name, do you?”
Eddie frowned. “Well, I was hoping you would,” he finally said.
“Really? Why?”
“To become part of the family.”
“Hhhhmmmm. I didn’t think it would matter to you. I was also wondering whether you would wear a wedding ring. I’ve never seen you wear any jewellery. When we’re married will you wear a ring?”
Eddie sighed. “I don’t like rings. I didn’t wear one when I was married to Barbara. She had this friend who did silversmith work, and she commissioned him to make me the ugliest ring I’d ever seen. It was all gnarled and twisted and after a few months it was all tarnished. Kind of symbolic of our marriage.”
Annabelle laughed. “I’ll get you a gold one and will you wear it?”
Eddie looked away. “Do I have to? I don’t like jewellery.”
“How about this. I’ll take your name if you wear my ring.”
Eddie took her hand in his and whispered, “I’ll wear your ring with great honour and devotion whether or not you take my name.”
“OK,” she whispered.
In early evening, Sarah raced around the empty corporate halls while she and Annabelle waited for Daryl to complete his weekly status report. On the way out, Sarah insisted on punching the elevator buttons, interrogating Daryl about his house and private life.
“Do you have kids?” she asked, following Daryl to the multi-level parking garage where senior employees parked.
“I have two,” said Daryl. “But they’re older than you.”
“How old?”
“My daughter Kyra is twenty-four and my son Evan is twenty-eight.”
“Wow,” said Sarah. “They’re not really kids. They won’t be there?”
“No,” said Daryl, reaching his car. “They don’t live with me any more. Annabelle, I’ll drive out to the Front Street exit and wait for you there; you follow me along Mem Drive. OK?”
They followed Daryl’s red convertible through rush hour traffic to Newton.
“This is some house,” said Annabelle, getting out of her car.
Daryl stood with her and looked at the house.
“Yeah,” he said. “Too bad it isn’t mine.”
While Sarah wandered around the massive gardens, Annabelle asked Daryl if he would mind having Eddie come by for dinner.
“He said he’d pick up some Chinese food for us,” said Annabelle.
“Sure, have him over,” said Daryl, “but I’m going to meet a friend in Harvard Square. You can hang out in any room downstairs. I get lonely here sometimes.” He smiled, watching Sarah attempt to climb an ornamental cherry tree.
Eddie arrived at seven that evening, just as Daryl was leaving.
“Mom didn’t tell me you were coming over,” complained Sarah, watching Eddie carefully carry the large bag of food.
“I got you something,” said Eddie.
“What?”
He put the bag on the kitchen table and handed her a pocket pegboard game.
“Can we play this?” she said.
“That’s why I got it for you,” he said.
Annabelle served the tofu lo mein and egg rolls, startled by the elegant kitchen plates.
After eating dinner and playing her new game, Sarah wanted four bedtime songs before she would consider sleeping on the convertible sofa she and Annabelle would be sharing. Annabelle sang; Sarah called her back twice. Finally she was asleep.
Annabelle returned to the kitchen and sat at the table with Eddie. The high windows had no curtains or shades but there was great privacy, the entire area being enclosed by huge fences covered with flowering vines.
Eddie stood up, turned off the lights, and sat on the floor by the work island in the middle of the room. Annabelle joined him in the darkness, on the floor. They both stared through the windows at the huge full moon that was just starting to wane.
“Do you want to kiss me?” whispered Annabelle.
Eddie leant back against the butcher-block leg, the raw, smooth wood.
“I always want to kiss you,” he said, “I want to eat you up.”
Annabelle sighed. “Why is that? Why do you feel that way about me?”
Eddie laughed. “Why do you want to know? Why do you have to have reasons for everything?”
He leant over, kissed her, and slid down on his back. She slid on top of him.
“Rape me,” he whispered, opening his mouth wide.
Annabelle laughed, “Right here on the floor?”
“Do me,” he said.
Annabelle assessed the situation.
Annabelle finally, obediently unzipped Eddie’s blue jeans and tugged them to his ankles. Then she lifted her dress and pulled off her underwear.
“Daryl better not get back while we’re doing this,” she mumbled. “I hope Sarah doesn’t wake up.”
“I’m your slave,” said Eddie.
She paused and then pulled his erection inside her and pushed down hard. He moaned so she did it again, holding his arms above his head, pressing her mouth against his neck, and kneading his skin with her lips.
She became aware of herself in triplicate. She was a detached observer, scanning the kitchen door, contemplating the absurdity of the moment, the lavish cooking utensils, the elaborate windows with the moon shining in and a huge man seemingly powerless beneath her. She was herself, in her body, sensing his hair mingling with hers, his scent and his murmurs. And she was he, embracing surrender, lowering her legs, wrapping her feet around his calves and pulling him deeper inside her in waves of fury.
Then she wasn’t aware of herself at all; all at once she was lost in the pleasure of power, an entirely new door, a new way of opening.