CHAPTER NINETEEN

Barb

Two days after Juliet needed me (the thought still gave me a warm feeling), Caro and I walked into a little café in Middle Haddam, which was far enough from Stoningham that we weren’t likely to run into anyone we knew.

We were meeting WORK.

“Cute place,” Caro said. “And clearly she’s not here yet. Let me get us something. You want a tea, I already know. Any cake or cookies?”

“I’m good, Caro. Thanks.” I wasn’t good. I was nervous. And still angry. And sad. And humiliated. And gosh-darn tired, too. I got up every night at three a.m. to give John his medication, and I wasn’t a young woman anymore. It often took me an hour or more to fall back asleep.

John had been home now for weeks. LeVon had become a fixture in our house, and that was a real blessing, I’ll tell you.

Sometimes, it felt like he was the son I’d never had. That first pregnancy of mine . . . I’d always thought the baby was a boy, and . . . well, sometimes I liked to picture what life would be like if that baby had lived. He’d be about LeVon’s age—late forties. Maybe John and I wouldn’t have grown apart if I hadn’t struggled with infertility. Maybe Juliet would have relaxed a little more with a big brother to tease her, and Sadie would look up to him and be a little more responsible with him as a role model.

Most days, LeVon stayed a little late, joining me in a cup of tea before he left. It felt so comforting. Like he was protecting me, in some inexplicable way. He said he’d be with us until John’s recovery was mostly done, and gosh, that was a relief. I’d adopt him if I could, but he had a wife and three kids, and his parents lived next door to him, so I guess that was out.

“Okay,” Caro said, sitting down. “Any idea what she looks like?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“So they didn’t text pictures.”

“No. Thank God they didn’t do that, you know? I’d hate to have to see a dick pic.”

“The first selectman of Stoningham just said ‘dick pic’!” Caro said.

It wasn’t funny. It was awful. But it felt so good to laugh.

We settled down. I sipped my tea. Caro had already put in the sugar. She was drinking some monstrous thing with whipped cream. She also had a slab of coconut cake. “Go on, take a bite,” she said, sliding into the booth next to me. “You know you’re going to.”

I did. Oh, it was good. I needed to bake a cake. Maybe LeVon could bring half of it home to his family. Maybe John would like it, since his swallowing had improved and he could eat almost anything now.

“Is John getting any better, do they think?” Caro asked. “Mentally?”

“In little ways. He seems more alert from time to time. His walking is better, but he still needs help getting in and out of bed. He makes some sounds, but talking isn’t going so well. LeVon gave him a pen and paper, but he didn’t seem to know what to do with it.”

“Jesus, Barb. I don’t know how you do it.”

“In sickness and in health.”

“Yeah, and forsaking all others. Let’s not forget why we’re here, after all.”

The door opened, and a young couple came in with their baby. “How’s your grandbaby doing, by the way?” I asked, and Carol pulled out her phone to show me the latest pictures of Garrett, her second grandson. “Beautiful. Looks like you, Caro.”

She flashed me that gorgeous smile that lit up her whole face. “I thought so, too,” she said.

Then the door opened, and a woman came in, late fifties, maybe.

“Hey,” Caro said. “We know her. It’s . . . uh . . . oh, shit, I can’t remember.”

“It’s Karen, the teacher from ballroom dancing, remember?” I had great facial recall, which helped in my job. Also, we took those lessons for a few months, in those days when I’d still been trying to work on my marriage, making sure John had enough fun, trying to feel something other than irritation toward him.

“Right!” Caro said. “Hi, Karen! How are you?”

Karen looked over, then flinched.

The penny dropped, as the saying goes.

Seems we had just met WORK.

“Come on over!” Caro called. “Remember us? We took dance classes from you. We were all terrible.”

Karen came over, her arms crossed tightly in front of her.

Caro went on blithely. “This is Barb Frost, and I’m Caro, and . . . oh. Oh, shit. It’s you, isn’t it?”

Yep. Her eyes darted between us.

“Here to meet my husband?” I asked, oddly numb.

“Um . . . uh . . .” She closed her eyes. “I think I might faint.”

“Great. A drama queen,” Caro said. “Well, faint away. We’ll throw a bucket of water on you. You’re not leaving till you’ve answered some questions.”

“It’s just that I only had a kale smoothie for breakfast, and—”

“We don’t care,” I said. “Sit down, you . . . adulteress.”

“Oh, Barb,” Caro said. “Call her what she is. Sit down, slut.”

“Where’s John?” she asked, holding her giant fabric bag in front of her.

“We’ll get to that,” I said.

Karen. Karen something boring. Sanders or Saunders.

She sat across from Caro and me, and I took a long look at her. Her face was flushing a dull red, and she looked at the table. Dyed black hair, a dull, drab color that came from a drugstore, not a salon. I was a natural blond, and over the years my hair had gradually become streaked with silver. Never colored it a day in my life. She was dressed like a twenty-year-old bohemian—long full skirt, a low-cut leotard showing off her speckled, bony chest. Hard features, small eyes, but cunning, like a . . . like a rhino. A beaky nose, thin lips.

Well, he wasn’t with her because of her looks.

“So I guess you know,” she said, swallowing.

“I sure do, Karen. Or should I call you angel kitten?”

“Barb’s been texting you for almost two months. You didn’t even know it wasn’t your tiger,” Caro said.

“How dare you?” she said, and Caro and I both laughed.

“Barb,” Caro said, “the slut is mad because you pretended to be John.”

“Caro,” I said, “I’m mad because the slut was sleeping with my husband.”

“It wasn’t like that!” Karen said.

“Oh, please,” Caro said.

She twisted one of her silver bracelets. “I . . . we love each other. And you didn’t understand him,” she said. “He said your marriage had been over for years.”

“Jeesh,” I said. “The oldest line in the book, kitten. Did you fall for that? He gave me a beautiful ruby pendant for Christmas.” Juliet had picked it out, of course, but technically, it was from him. “Did he mention how much fun we had with our children and grandchildren?”

She glanced away. “Does he know you’re meeting me?”

“I’ll ask the questions, kitten,” I said. “Let me guess. He and I had grown apart. He wasn’t happy anymore. You made him feel young. He didn’t know what love was until he found you, and if only he’d met you first, gosh golly, life would’ve been super great. He’d leave me, but the children. Or the . . . what, Caro?”

“Or the fact that a divorce would cost him every dime he ever made,” she supplied.

“That’s true, now, isn’t it? Hm.”

Karen’s little eyes darted between us, and she fiddled with her ugly bag. “He was going to leave you. He probably still is.”

Caro laughed.

“Is that what you want? Would you marry him, kitten?” I asked.

“Please stop calling me that,” she said. “And yes. I love him.”

“Oh. How touching,” Caro said. “She loves him, Barb.”

“My heart.” This was oddly fun. “Well, you can have him, Karen. In sickness and in health.” I took a bite of Caro’s cake. “Tell me, what makes a woman go after a married man? Don’t you have any morals?”

“I am a good Christian woman,” she said, huffing.

Caro and I looked at each other and laughed. “Isn’t there a tiny commandment about adultery?” Caro asked.

“You know, Caro, I think there is. I’m sure of it.”

“This is different,” Karen said.

“How so, dear?” I asked.

She glanced around. That hair was not only unnatural in color, it didn’t move a bit when she turned her head. Helmet hair, my girls would call it. “Look. I’m sorry he doesn’t love you anymore. But we didn’t plan this. It just happened.”

“So . . . you fell into a deep sleep and when you woke up, you were screwing another woman’s husband?” Caro asked.

“No! We . . . we ran into each other at a treadmill class last spring.”

I rolled my eyes. Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse. “You had to take a class to learn how to walk on a treadmill?”

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“And then what happened, angel kitten?”

“We remembered each other. We got a carrot juice at the juice bar. We just . . . clicked. We ended up talking for hours. It was amazing.”

“No, it wasn’t,” I said. “It was inappropriate and dishonest. He’s married. Which you well knew. What God has put together, let no one put asunder, good Christian woman.”

“I’m telling you, it wasn’t like we planned to have an affair. It was just juice at first. But I started to look forward to it. He’s so . . . wonderful. A brilliant man.” Caro snorted. “The chemistry was undeniable. And you didn’t even notice.” She straightened her shoulders a bit, and her sternum bones showed even more.

She did have a point. I hadn’t noticed. Last spring, Sloane had appendicitis, and I stayed with Juliet for four nights and played board games with Brianna and cooked for the family. I’d also been doing the job Stoningham’s residents had elected me to do.

“How long did it take for these juice dates to lead to adultery?” I asked.

“About a week.” She smirked, obviously proud of herself.

The words hit me in the heart like a hammer shattering glass.

A week. That’s how much time and consideration he gave our marriage. Our vows. Our five decades together.

One goddamn week.

“The attraction was just so strong,” she said, raising her penciled eyebrows at me. “I’m not that type of girl—”

“You haven’t been a girl in sixty years,” Caro said.

“—and I’ve never done anything like that before. But I believe God put us in each other’s path, and life is too short. The past isn’t a compass for the future. You have to give yourself permission to chart a new course.”

“Been reading Snapple caps?” Caro asked.

“I won’t apologize for loving someone with all my heart.” Her little rhino eyes teared up. “I take it you gave him an ultimatum. What are you holding over his head, Barb? Is this why he hasn’t been in touch? He said you were controlling and had anger issues, but this is beyond the pale.”

“Oh, hush,” I said. “I’m not holding anything over his head. He had a stroke.” She sucked in a breath, her sharp nostrils flaring. “I found out about you when I was at the hospital. While my husband was having brain surgery to save his life, I got to read his idiotic, juvenile sexting with you.”

“He had an operation? How is he now?”

For some reason, it was hard to say the words. “You tell her, Caro.”

“Well, funny you should ask, kitten,” Caro said. “He has the IQ of a celery stalk.”

Karen jerked back. “What do you mean?”

“He’s nonverbal and needs a full-time caregiver,” I said. “Good thing you love him so very, very much. This must be why God put him in your path.”

“Barb,” Caro said, putting her hand on my shoulder, “I’m so glad you won’t be shackled to him anymore, now that Sex Kitten will take over. You know, since their love is more special and so different from any love the world has ever seen.”

“The house is in my name,” I said. “And I have power of attorney over our finances. But I’m sure you’re not materialistic. Good thing, too, since you won’t be getting a fucking cent.”

Her eyelids fluttered.

“I love that you said fucking,” Caro said.

“It felt good.”

Karen started to stand, then sat back down. “So he won’t get better?”

“You’d have to ask God about that, Karen, since you and He are on such close terms. John can’t talk, and he can’t write, but he did learn to toilet himself, so he only wets the bed once in a while.”

“What would Jesus do?” Caro asked. “I bet Jesus would comfort the sick, don’t you, kitten? Small price to pay for ruining a marriage.”

“I . . . I have to go,” Karen said.

“Yes. You do.” My voice was hard.

She got up and wobbled over to the door, and then she was gone.

“Well, we’ve seen the last of her,” Caro said. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.”

“Yep. That’s true.”

Caro looked at me with her kind, dark eyes and gave a sad smile, and that was it. The tears came hard and fast, and I cried in gulping sobs that made the other folks in the café look at me, but I couldn’t seem to stop.

Caro put her arm around me, and we sat there for a long, long time, and a thought came to me. I didn’t have a great husband, and maybe I never had.

But I sure had a wonderful friend.