The Secret of Joy (28 page)

“Rebecca!” Ellie ran over and wrapped Rebecca in a hug. “You
are
glowing.”

She glanced at herself in the mirror on the entry wall. She
was
glowing. Her brown eyes sparkled. Her complexion seemed clearer and lit from within. And she looked happier than she had in a long, long time.

“It’s the house, isn’t it?” Maggie said. “You’re loving it?”

That and one perfect night with Theo
. “I am. It already feels like home.”

“I’m so glad you came tonight,” Ellie said. “We need help. Serious help. Let me introduce you to everyone.” She led Rebecca into Maggie’s living room, a spotless rectangle with two white textured sofas that faced each other (you could tell Maggie didn’t have children) in front of a fireplace. Next to a huge silver beanbag (upon which a man was sitting), there was a basket of yarn and two bamboo knitting needles with what looked like a baby blue blanket on it. Was the guy a knitter? “Over here is Lucy—she’s the bookkeeper at my real-estate agency—who finally told her boyfriend that if he didn’t propose by the end of summer, that was it. And it’s almost October, and you’ll notice there’s no ring on her finger.”

Lucy burst into tears. She was in her early thirties and had the particular type of short curly hair and appliqué sweater (little dancing moose) that made a woman look fifteen years older.

Maggie touched Lucy’s shoulder. “Oh, honey. You’re doing the right thing.”

Ellie nodded. “Or you could be like me—and get the guy to
propose after whining and pleading and showing him pictures of diamond rings when he really doesn’t want to, but then he does propose, because his father dies and he’s low and you’re suddenly his best friend, but then he gets his spirit back and he realizes you’re really not the one. Or not the one yet.”

“It’s the
yet
that’s the problem,” Rebecca said, sitting down next to Lucy. “Because it’s so hard to know what it really refers to. ‘I don’t know how I feel about you yet.’ Or ‘I’m not ready for marriage yet.’”

The man on the beanbag nodded. “And sometimes someone will go ahead and get married even though there’s
still
a yet—on both counts. Because they want something else, like security.”

“Oh gosh, I just realized I didn’t even introduce you two,” Ellie said. “Rebecca, this is Darren Doyle. He’s the assistant manager at Rite Aid.”

Darren waved. He was early to midthirties and wore a short-sleeved dress shirt and khaki pants. His light brown hair was close-cropped, like a soldier’s. “I sort of told Ellie my life story when she came in one night to buy a roll of Tums. My wife had just told me on the phone that it was over.”

“She said that on the phone?” Rebecca asked.

“Well, not for the first time. She told me a couple of weeks ago that there was someone else, but then she changed her mind, said it was me she wanted, but then she changed her mind again.” His eyes pooled with tears, and Ellie handed him a tissue.

Maggie leaned forward. “Let me ask you this, Darren. Was she difficult when she was your girlfriend? Always breaking up with you and then reeling you back in?”

“How’d you know?” he asked before blowing his nose very loudly.

“I’m just thinking that we expect people to change when we get married. Like me—I really thought my ass of an ex-husband would change when we went from just dating to being a married couple. Like he’d suddenly stop being a mama’s boy who expected the crust cut off his toast. Or that he’d stop staring at waitresses’ cleavage. But nothing changed when we got married. Just my name. I’m changing it back by the way. If I had children I might not, but I’m taking it back. Maggie McDonald.”

“Good for you,” Ellie said, braiding her dark hair over one shoulder. “I’m not there yet. I
feel
like Ellie Rasmussen. Maybe because I wanted to be that woman for so long.”

Tears pooled in Darren’s eyes again. “Sometimes I wonder if my wife ever loved me at all. I don’t know how she could have just suddenly fallen in love with someone else if she really loved me. But I don’t know. I thought she did.”

“It’s such a hard question to answer,” Rebecca said. “My father cheated on my mother. I
know
he loved her. But something was able to pull him away from her in that moment—when he met the other woman.”

Maggie’s hazel eyes sparked with anger. “But something
shouldn’t
be able to. If you’re committed, you’re committed. Period. End of story.” She glanced at Rebecca. “I don’t mean anything against your father, hon.”

Rebecca squeezed her hand. “It’s okay. He did cheat. A vacation affair. But when it was time to go home, he just up and went back to my mother as though nothing happened. And
something
big
happened. He must have fallen in love with the other woman to have the affair. But if he had been in love, how was he able to just drop her like that?”

“I’m glad to say I don’t know,” Darren said. “I’ve never cheated on anyone, girlfriend or my wife. And I can’t imagine cheating.”

Maggie patted his knee. “You’re a good man. I wish there were more of you.”

“Well, there can’t be varying levels of ‘committed,’” Ellie said. “At least, there shouldn’t be. It’s either/or. I’m the kind of person who honors a commitment, but I guess some people, like my own jerk of a soon-to-be-ex-husband just can’t do that.”

“You want to hear something crazy?” Lucy said. “My mother knew my father was having affairs from the time they got married until now. He was probably messing around with someone last night. But he came home every night, ever the loving husband, gifts for birthdays and anniversaries, was there for every-other-Sunday dinners with the in-laws. He’d never leave my mother and claims to love her. Is that still being committed?”

“That’s a tough one,” Darren said.

“Only if the wife doesn’t know,” Ellie said. “I mean, if she doesn’t know, everyone’s happy, right?”

Rebecca thought about that. “My mother didn’t know. But even so, the marriage had to have changed, right? Wouldn’t the affair have made my father a different person, even though it didn’t continue? He’d cheated, he’d fallen for someone else. The dynamic between them must have shifted, even in small ways.”

Maggie nodded. “I think the wife always knows. Because of just what you said, Rebecca—those subtle little changes. You
know
.”

“I knew—suspected, anyway, until it was obvious,” Ellie said. “But sometimes ignorance really is bliss. I’d have my husband. I’d have my marriage. I wouldn’t know, so how am I hurt?”

“You’re hurt because your husband is lying to you,” Darren said. “About where he’s going, what he’s doing. He’s living another life outside your marriage. And everything you think about him isn’t the truth.”

Ellie leaned her head back and sighed. “Oh, yeah. I forgot all that.” She popped back up and grinned. “Don’t worry, guys. There’s no chance of me going back to Tim. Do you believe that my mother-in-law told me my expectations are out of whack? That it’s
me
who has to change, not him?”

Maggie snorted. “Sounds like my former mother-in-law. ‘Boys will be boys,’ she told me. ‘Remember that and you’ll have a long, happy marriage.’ Long, maybe, but unhappy is more like it.”

“I just want to state for the record again that not all men cheat,” Darren said.

Ellie winked at him. “We know there are some good guys out there. We’re not
that
bitter.”

“I’m a little worried I might be,” Lucy said. “I feel like I cut off my nose to spite my face. And I’m not even sure I did the right thing. Did I? By giving John an ultimatum? Marry me or we’re over? He says if I really loved him, I couldn’t just end it. He’s sort of right, right?”

“Does he not understand what an ultimatum
is
?” Maggie asked. “He sounds manipulative. ‘No, stay and live my way, even though it’s breaking your heart. Because if you really loved me, your broken heart would be okay with you.’”

Lucy nodded, but looked like she was about to burst into tears.

Ellie moved over to the other side of Lucy and slung an arm around her shoulder. “Rebecca says it’s all about your breaking point, what’s acceptable to you and when it stops being okay. She says only you can really answer that. Right, Rebecca?”

As if she were an expert on anything to do with relationships. The people in this room were the experts, the ones who’d been married, who
were
married, who’d been through the ups and downs, the thick and thin—especially the thin. “I do think it’s true that only you yourself can know when you’ve reached your own limit. Sometimes it takes a while to realize that what your friends and family have been telling you is the truth. Short of an intervention, no one can tell you what’s unacceptable to you. If I tell you, Yeah, you shouldn’t feel or think or do X, Y, Z, it’s not going to matter unless you believe that, too.”

Lucy nodded again, her eyes tearing up. “I know he doesn’t really love me, not
that
way. Not the way he loved his last girlfriend, the one he proposed to. She didn’t want to marry him, though. I know he doesn’t feel about me the way he felt about her.”

“I’m so sorry, Lucy,” Rebecca said. “I’m glad you found this group. I’m glad you all found each other. It helps just to talk about it, doesn’t it?”

“It really helps,” Maggie said. “You know what also helps? Tequila.” She moved over to the buffet table by the window, where there were four bottles of tequila, a shaker, two bottles of triple sec and a bottle of lime juice. “Anyone not want salt?”

And for the next half hour, there was much drinking and crunching of nachos, piled high with beef, pinto beans, cheese, guacamole, sour cream, and salsa. The conversation turned to lighter, funnier subjects, such as the rudest customer at Rite Aid or the time Maggie found another Realtor having sex with a potential buyer in a house she was showing.

Ellie tinged the side of her glass with a spoon. “Okay, so now we’re up to the burn-and-purge portion of our evening.”

“Burn and purge?” Rebecca whispered to Maggie.

“Pure brilliance,” Maggie said. “For our first meeting, we decided that we should all bring something that symbolizes our pledge to rid our asshole exes from our hearts, minds, and souls, and then we’ll chuck that thing into the fireplace and let it burn to nothing.”

Ellie walked over to the fireplace. “I’ll go first.” She took her wedding ring off and threw it in the fire.

“Did you really just do that?” Maggie asked, her mouth gaping open. “Did you just throw your wedding ring in the fireplace?”

“I did,” Ellie said, slapping her hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe it. Does this mean I really mean it?”

“You really mean it,” they all said in unison.

Ellie bit her lip. “I’m signing the papers on Monday. To file for divorce. There are
actual
papers, with facts and figures and
phrases like Rasmussen versus Rasmussen—that’s how much I mean it.”

“You’re such an inspiration, Ellie,” Lucy said. She pulled something from her purse and walked over to the fireplace.

“What is that?” Maggie asked.

Lucy held up a white box with multicolored lettering. “My birthday present from John. It’s a box of alli. You know, the weight-loss supplement. If you cheat, you end up having rather embarrassing elimination issues.”

Ellie’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God. That’s what he gave you for your birthday?”

Lucy looked like she might cry. “He said that maybe the reason he hasn’t proposed is because I could lose a good thirty pounds, that he heard wives always gained weight after marriage, and then I’d really be a house.”

“What an asshole!” Darren said. “You wanted to marry this jerk?”

Lucy burst into tears. “I deserve better than him. I deserve better than him. I deserve better than him.”

“You most certainly do,” Rebecca and Maggie and Ellie said in unison.

And into the fire went the box of alli. Lucy came back to the sofa with a look of determination on her face.

Maggie reached into her purse and pulled out a folded newspaper clipping. “This is the poor moron who married my ex-husband a couple of weeks ago. I cut her bridal photo out of the wedding announcements. I was actually studying her, trying to figure out what she had that I didn’t, what was so special about her. And you know what? Yeah, she was the
skanky bitch who stole my husband. But now she’s just some idiot who’s stuck with my jerk of an ex. She’s no one to envy.” And she tossed the newspaper clipping in the fire and they all watched it burn.

Darren stood and walked over to the fireplace. “I brought a letter my wife wrote me the last time she said she wanted our marriage to work. Should I read it to you?”

Everyone said yes.

He cleared his throat. “‘Dear Darren, I am so sorry for all the pain and suffering I’ve caused you. I was wrong about Vincent—he is totally not the man for me. And he’s definitely not half the man you are. He was fired and was only pretending to look for a new job. Do you believe he was expecting me to pay his rent? Oh, Dar, baby, I miss you so much. I miss us. I love you, big bear. Tonight I’ll show you how much. Love, Carrie.’”

“That’s worse than the alli,” Lucy said. “How transparent is she?”

“And I guess she went back to Vincent?” Ellie asked.

Darren nodded. “He got a new job.”

“In the fire it goes!” Maggie said.

Darren crumpled it into a ball and threw it in. “That
did
feel good. Empowering.”

“So what’s going on with you?” Ellie asked Rebecca. “Did you make a decision about Michael? Are you and Theo seeing each other? What’s the scoop?”

This wasn’t the time or the place to start talking about how sometimes you did grow apart from someone, someone that maybe you did love once. But what you needed began to change, maybe. And suddenly everything felt wrong. And then
you met someone else, and he feels just right, like the baby bear bed. Then again, maybe it was the time and the place. It was about hope, about possibilities. And Rebecca had just started discovering that possibilities were everywhere—if you went for them, if you insisted upon them.