Jake got up early, well before dawn. He had left lights on in the living room and on the front porch and the door unlocked in case Marnie arrived during the night. It was unlikely, he knew, but he wanted her to feel expected, to feel wanted. But she hadn’t arrived.
He fed Sadie, made tea, and went out to do more packing in the studio. By 8, all the paintings were crated, all the loose materials boxed up. He knew the house would only take a couple of hours to pack up. He’d take the bed, the kitchen table, some lamps, and a favorite wingback chair. Most of the rest was junk and he’d move it out to the sidewalk and it would disappear. He didn’t have many clothes and he could pack up his kitchen in a couple of boxes. The books and CDs would take a bit but he only really wanted the art books. The rest he had read or could replace.
He wondered how much stuff Marnie would want to take. All her clothes, probably, maybe books and CDs too. He didn’t know if any of the furniture was hers or if it was, if she would take it from Paul. More things to sort out.
After 8, he made some calls. First to a couple of truck rental places. At the second place, the guy pressed him to reserve a truck, but Jake didn’t know how soon they would be leaving or even what size truck they needed.
“How can you not know how much stuff you have, mister?” the man said in that deep Virginia drawl.
Jake said something about knowing more in the afternoon and hung up as quickly as he could.
Next he called Lillian. He got an answering machine at first but when he spoke his name, she picked up the phone. “Hi Jake, I’m glad you called me.” Her voice was warm and he relaxed a bit.
“What should I do for Paul?” he asked.
“The best thing is probably to get him to check into a treatment center,” she said. “There’s a good one in Lynchburg associated with the hospital. It’s where I went. It’s a 28-day program and you heal up and find out what you need to know. You get taken to a lot of AA meetings and you get acclimated to a new life. It really worked for me.”
“I don’t know how I’d get him to do that,” Jake said after a moment.
“Well, that is the problem,” Lillian said. “Would Marnie be willing to help do this? Is she back yet?”
“No, but she’s on her way.” He hesitated, then added, “she’s been visiting her folks.” He felt foolish. Lillian must have known that Marnie had walked out. But he felt protective of his friends.
“Well, when she’s back, the two of you might want to go to Lynchburg and talk to the people at the treatment center. I’m sure they can suggest the best way to talk to Paul. Let me find you the number.”
Jake took the number from her, thanked her, and hung up. He made another cup of tea and some breakfast and sat at the kitchen table. He reread Marnie’s letter, and any nagging doubts he’d had fell away. There was a plan brewing: get Paul into treatment, move to Portland with Marnie. They could all start over.
He loaded up the truck and made a trip to the dump with scrap and discards. Then he swung by Paul’s house to see how he was.
Marnie opened the door. She wore a rose-pink silk robe, and her skin was flushed and glowing. Her dark hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders. “Jake,” she said with a big smile. She moved forward to hug him.
Jake was so surprised to see her that he stumbled back off the porch. “Marnie,” he said. “I, I didn’t expect to find you here. I thought we…” He stopped. Paul was coming down the stairs. He was dressed to go out. He moved to the doorway and wrapped his arms around Marnie.
“Jake, happy day! My beloved wife has come back to me. Come in, come in.” And he pulled Marnie inside and towards the kitchen. Jake trailed after them, his heart shaky, his steps leaden.
Paul moved over to the counter and poured three cups from the coffeemaker. “Jake, great to see you but I’ve got to get moving. I’ve a class at 11 and a meeting right after. Stay and talk to my wife about her trip.” And he kissed Marnie in an elaborate Hollywood backbend, took his mug, and went out the kitchen door to his car.
Marnie grinned at Jake and then moved to the table with her coffee. “It feels great to be back. The drive was really long.” She looked up at him and frowned. He was still in the doorway.
“Marnie, what’s going on?” he said finally. “I got your letter and I thought we…”
A quizzical look crossed her face. “You did get the phone message before the letter arrived, right?”
“What phone message?”
“I sent you a message asking you to tear up the letter without reading it, that I had a made a mistake.” Her voice slowed as she saw what had happened. “Oh, Jake,” she said. “Oh God, Jake, I’m so sorry.” She made a move to get up from the table but he bristled and took a step back and she sat down again. “Please, let me explain. Let’s talk about this.”
He shook his head. “I don’t see what there is to talk about. It seems pretty clear to me.” His voice held ice. He knew he should go but his disappointment rooted him to the spot and he found he did want an explanation. “What about the feelings you said you had for me? What happened to them?” The ice had turned to bitterness in his mouth.
She blushed with shame. “I’m sorry, Jake. I spoke out of turn. My marriage to Paul, it’s not over. I have hope for us. I want to see it through.” She paused, then spoke again. “I do love you, Jake. You are so dear to me. You are the best friend anybody could have.”
“But you don’t love me.” He looked at her, then out the window.
“Not like that, not like I love Paul.” She tried to catch his eye but he wouldn’t look at her. She paused a moment and then she said, “He’s in my blood.”
He nodded, but more in sympathy than in understanding.
“He’s not good to you, Marnie. I would be good to you.”
“I know that, Jake. I know both those things. It isn’t rational, my love for Paul. You’re a much better person and I wish I did love you like that, but I…”
“Stop, Marnie. Please stop.”
There was silence then between them for a time. The clock went on ticking and the refrigerator hummed and a child yelled from the street. Finally, Jake moved into the kitchen and drew a piece of paper from his pocket and put it on the table.
“What’s this?” Marnie said, glad to have something else to speak about.
“It’s the number of a treatment center in Lynchburg. They have a 28-day program. Lillian, Paul’s colleague, gave it to me. She says that Paul’s in danger of losing his job. She suggested that we…that you call them and go see them. The other number is Lillian’s. She’s apparently been there herself. Maybe she can help you with this.”
Marnie looked at the paper for a moment and then looked back at him. “Jake, is it too much to ask that we still be friends? That…” her voice trailed off.
“I can’t, Marnie. I just can’t.” He was afraid he would cry. “I’m packed and ready to go.”
“Go? Go where?”
“To Portland with you,” he said.
She looked at him, her eyes full of sadness. “I’m so sorry, Jake.”
“Yeah, well, okay.” He waited a moment and went on. “Goodbye, Marnie. Tell Paul…” He shrugged. “Tell Paul whatever you want.” And he went out the back as Paul had done and around the house and got in his truck. He didn’t start the engine right away, his mind reeling with ways it could be different. But then he gave up and drove away.