Nolan gives me a halfhearted smile, then says, “Well. I guess it takes one to know one.”
“Seriously,” I gently press. “What’s going on with you and Mere?”
“I don’t know, Josie,” he says, shaking his head. “She’s just not happy….”
“So what else is new?” I say. “Mere’s been in a bad mood since she came out of the womb.”
“I know,” he says. “But it’s worse than usual.”
I ask him why, feeling annoyed that my sister can’t just snap out of it and be happy, especially given all that she has to be happy about. “Do you think she’s depressed? Like clinically?”
“No. I don’t think that’s it….She definitely had depression after Harper was born….” His voice trails off as I remember Mere’s postpartum baby blues. They were mild, but still concerning, especially to my mother.
“But this is different,” he continues. “This is almost like a midlife crisis.”
I stare at him, thinking that it is such a loaded term, almost always referring to infidelity of some kind. I tell him my sister would never cheat.
“Oh, I know,” he says, staring at the label on his beer. “I don’t mean that kind of midlife crisis….I just mean…maybe she’d rather be alone than married to me.”
“She wants a divorce?” I say, floored.
“Yeah. I think she might,” he says, meeting my gaze.
“No way. That can’t be it,” I say, shaking my head.
Nolan gives me a look that can only be classified as sad. Deeply sad. “I think it is, Josie….She pretty much told me that it was.”
“But you’re the perfect husband,” I blurt out, feeling a wave of animosity toward my sister. How dare she do this to him?
He gives me a small smile, but still looks mournful. “Yeah. Well, thanks. But I think we both know it doesn’t work like that….Looking back…I don’t think she ever loved me.”
“Of course she did. Does,” I say, as I’m bombarded with a distant memory of my sister and me sitting in the dressing room of the bridal shop where Meredith purchased her gown. I remember how she talked about having cold feet, being unsure about Nolan. It seemed ridiculous at the time. It still seems ridiculous. She could never do better than Nolan. Nobody could.
“What?” Nolan asks. “What’re you thinking?”
I glance away and say, “Nothing.”
“You just looked up and to the left,” he says. “Now you’re lying.”
I swallow, almost telling him about that moment in the dressing room, then quickly deciding it isn’t my place. Besides, what good would it do at this point? Instead, I take a deep breath and say, “I just think Meredith is hardwired to be dissatisfied…and she always second-guesses herself. Think about her chosen profession….What was that all about, anyway? She always wanted to be an actress…so why did she go to law school?”
“Exactly,” he says. “But Josie—that’s my point….I’m the relationship equivalent of law school. She regrets law school. She regrets me. She regrets her whole life.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I say, realizing that I’ve just made him feel worse. “I just meant…Meredith is complicated….She’s always been that way…and she got way worse after Daniel died.”
He gives me a surprised look.
“What? That can’t be a revolutionary concept, can it?” I ask, thinking that we all got worse after Daniel died; Meredith was just a little darker to begin with.
“No…it’s not that,” he says. “I just think this might be the first time you’ve ever brought up Daniel with me. It’s always me bringing him up with you.”
I nod, my stomach clenching like it did in the cemetery. “I know,” I say.
“Why is that?” he asks. “Why don’t you ever want to talk about him?”
I swallow, sweat beginning to pool under my arms. “I don’t know….It’s like we said in the cemetery today….Everyone is different about this stuff. About death…and dealing with it.”
“Yes…but it’s always struck me as odd….I’ve always thought you would be more like Meredith…and she’d be more like you….You know?”
I shake my head, not following. “Why’s that?”
“Because generally speaking, you’re more of an open book…and you’re more glass half full….”
“Maybe,” I say with a little shrug. Then, hoping to change the subject, I ask how we got from his marriage to me.
“I think it’s all related,” he says, without missing a beat.
I force a laugh and try to sidetrack him. “What? How do I have anything to do with your marriage?”
“You don’t,” he says, my decoy not working. “I’m talking about your family…what Daniel’s death did to your family. To all of us.”
I know what he’s getting at, and I desperately don’t want him to go there. He does anyway, staring into my eyes in a way that I can’t escape. “Can we please talk about that night, Josie?” he asks.
My throat feels too tight to reply, so I just shake my head.