CHAPTER 24
I sort of feel bad for Arthur being trapped in the car with me for the ninety-minute drive home. I have a lot of mom things to say about his feelings and what happens when you misdirect your anger. We talk about the truth and how precious it is and about lies and how they can spread and take over your life. I have a lot to say about his dad that I probably should have said sooner.
“You know that your dad leaving had nothing to do with you, right?” I don’t know how it’s possible that it’s taken me two years to say this.
“I could have been better at shortstop,” he says to the window.
“You could have been Derek Jeter at shortstop and your dad would still have left. He loves you and Bernie, but he just doesn’t know how to love his own life. You’re good enough, Arthur. The problem is your dad doesn’t think he is.”
Arthur’s looking out the window still, and I know I’m not being entirely honest. “When your dad and I were married, I kind of felt like you do. I thought that if I could do everything perfectly, we’d be happy.”
“But you are perfect, Mom.”
“Right?” I say, and we both laugh. “Love isn’t something you need to earn. Dad left because of Dad, not us.”
Arthur cries a little, says he’s sorry a lot. I talk about the beauty of coming clean and giving and receiving forgiveness. It’s a lot of talking, so much talking in fact that there is no room for the second set of thoughts that want to introduce themselves: Leo was coming back. Leo’s heart was broken too. I tuck these away like I would a Wednesday crossword puzzle or a bag of chocolate pretzels. I will take them out and enjoy them when I am alone.
We pick up Bernadette at Kate’s, and I promise to text her later with the details. We go home, we start homework, I make meatloaf. We read a chapter of the last Harry Potter book, and I insist everyone goes to their own bed.
When I’ve cleaned the kitchen and locked the doors, I pour myself a glass of wine. I feel as if I have to run the past ten months through a new lens. Leo thought I was back with Ben, that my kids had their family back. He thought Ben came back and my feelings turned on a dime. He even sent the money to make it look like he was a renter all those extra nights.
I hold my phone like it has a pulse. Leo should have texted by now: Wow that was crazy. Kids these days! Am I right? But no, he’s really upset, and there’s no text. Maybe just too much time has passed. Maybe in that time he’s fallen in love with someone else. That’s hardly a stretch of the imagination.
I type a dozen texts and delete them. I feel like I should be apologizing, because Arthur is an offshoot of me. If I was a better mother, maybe he would have worked through all this anger by now. Maybe if I was a little less guarded, I wouldn’t have let Leo walk away so easily. After all, I could have left a voicemail. If he’d known I was falling apart, he would have known it was all a lie.
I am startled by a text. Leo: Do you have something you want to say? I’ve seen text bubbles appear and disappear for the past 20 minutes.
Well, that’s embarrassing. Me: I guess I don’t really know what to say. I’m sorry this happened.
Leo: The whole thing?
Me: No just the end part
Leo: I’m leaving for New Zealand tomorrow for three months. Maybe we talk when I’m back
Me: Okay
And that’s it. I hold my phone for a while to see if there’s more, but there’s not. It’s okay, actually. I finish my wine and look at the black February night through the sunroom windows. The tea house is invisible tonight, but I know it’s there.
It’s morning, and I’m feeling careful. There’s a potential new reality out there, and I want to let it incubate. If I open my heart to it too fully, it will surely disappear. I have plenty of evidence to suggest that could happen. I decide not to tell my parents. I decide not to tell Penny. I decide that I’ll just tuck it away like a fortune cookie that says, “Something nice might happen.”
I will tend to Arthur and remember to check in on Bernadette to see if she’s harboring that kind of hurt and anger. The thing about Bernadette is that she doesn’t really harbor. She feels it, lets it out, and moves on. With Bernadette, the explosion usually happens in real time.
I creep downstairs and throw on my heaviest coat while the coffee brews. The February sunrise feels quicker somehow, like maybe the sun knows it doesn’t have much time to get its work done.
I walk out onto the porch just as it’s in midrise, and there on my swing is Leo. He’s bundled up in a peacoat and a navy wool cap. He has a thermos and a hot mug of coffee. “Good morning,” he says.
I sit next to him, unsure how close I’m supposed to be. “You must be freezing.”
“I am.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be going to New Zealand?”
“I’m leaving in a little bit. I just thought maybe we could do this before I go.”
He’s looking at the sunrise, not me, so I follow suit. We watch as the remaining gray lightens to pink and then deep blue.
He turns to me. “So, this whole time you’ve been sitting here every morning by yourself.”
“Yep.”
“And every morning I was picturing you here with Ben. Ben in my spot, saying stupid stuff about things he’d never do. Ben putting you down. Ben in your bed. I was so angry.”
“I thought you just ghosted me.” I’m looking at my hands resting on my pajama bottoms, which are a bad flannel with too many colors. I fold the fabric to hide two mustard stains.
“Nora.” He turns his whole body to me now, exasperated. “How was that a possibility given everything you know about me? That would have meant our whole thing was a lie.”
I don’t look at him. I’m afraid of what he’ll see if he looks directly into my eyes. I nod. “That was the worst part. At some point I sort of figured I’d imagined it.”
He turns back to the trees, and we’re quiet for a while. There aren’t a lot of birds, but there are a few hearty cardinals flying around, landing on leafless branches. Everything I wanted to say to Leo when we were apart doesn’t make any sense anymore. All the story lines I’d devised to answer the question “Why?” are irrelevant.
And then it really hits me. “You seriously believed I’d just take Ben back? Were you even listening? Did you even watch the movie? Eew.”
“I know. I’ve been wrestling with that all night. But I think when you love a ten-year-old kid and he tells you something, you just take it at face value. And you four were a family, if your kids could have had that back, I would never mess with that.”
He takes my hand, just barely. He’s touching the tips of his fingers to mine, and we are both staring at them. It’s nothing and everything, our hands touching. I say, “It was a crazy big lie.”
“It was,” he says. “And maybe the whole time I was here I felt like I was borrowing this. Like I didn’t deserve to keep it.”
“This?” I say, motioning to the rotting porch decking and the rusted chain on the swing.
“No, this,” he says and squeezes my hand. He kisses me, and it’s all back in a second—the dizzy swirly flood of happiness and excitement. It’s last year again, and Leo’s kissing me on the porch. Except it’s not last year. It’s this year, and I’m Me 2.0.
He pulls away but doesn’t let go of my hand. “So I want to leave today and then come back. Like, here.”
“Okay,” I say. Okay! I mean.
“Like, I want you to know I’m coming back. And if you think I’m not coming back, then I want you to say, ‘Hey, asshole, how come it seems like you’re not coming back?’ Like a normal woman.”
I nod. “I should have said that. Would have saved a lot of trouble.”
“We lost a lot of time. And it was horrible. No more of this stoic crap.”
It’s so nice to be sitting next to him on this swing that I’m doing a lot more feeling than listening. Leo wants me to know he’s coming back. Leo’s coming back. “Okay,” I say.
“You know what? I don’t trust you. Here.” Leo grabs my left hand and shoves a thin gold band on my finger. This is less like a romantic gesture and more like the handcuffing of a fugitive. “We’re married now, okay? Like in your head, just get that straight. This is happening.”
I laugh because it’s so absurd, and also because I am so light. A thousand pounds of hurt have been lifted off my chest. “Okay, we’re married,” I say, and he kisses me again. I can’t help but think this is better than any wedding I could imagine.
“That’s my mom’s ring,” he says. “It was the best I could do in the last three hours. But wear it till I get back, and then I’ll get you a new big gross one if you want. To go with your marble countertops.” He tilts his head to my new kitchen.
There’s a car pulling into the driveway. Leo gives the driver a wave and makes no move to get up. “So you’re coming back here? Like to live in Laurel Ridge?” I ask. Suddenly, the whole thing makes no sense.
“Sure. And everywhere else. We can figure it out. We’re going to be together, wherever we need to be. I don’t want any other life but that life.”
Bernadette comes out to the porch and freezes when she sees Leo. “Your mom and I are getting married,” he tells her.
She opens the kitchen door and screams into the house, “Arthur!”
Arthur comes out of the house already yelling at Bernadette to shut up when he sees the three of us snuggled up on the swing.
“Tell him,” says Bernadette.
“We’re getting married,” says Leo.
“For real?” asks Arthur. I hold up my hand and show him the wedding ring.
He hugs Leo, then me, and I notice everyone’s crying.
“Now go do your morning things. I’ve got to kiss your mom good-bye.”