Answered prayers

14

FAITH TOOK THE DREADED LSAT IN THE WEEK BETWEEN Christmas and New Year's. It was as hard as she had feared, and she had no idea how she'd done. In the pit of her stomach, she was afraid that she had done miserably, and Brad tried to reassure her when she called him afterward. He was the only person in her life who knew she had taken it. She didn't even tell Zoe where she'd gone. But at least it was behind her now. Another hurdle crossed. And all she could do now was hope she'd gotten a decent score.
Zoe left for Brown on New Year's Day. She was starting school the next day, and she hated to leave. She had had fun with her friends over the holidays, and she always hated leaving her mother, although Faith had reason to be excited herself. She was starting school the next day.
Alex was painfully silent at dinner after Zoe left, and Faith knew why. He was still annoyed with her for going back to school. Zoe had made a big fuss over her before she left, and Faith had her backpack and her school supplies ready for the next day. They were in her study, all ready and waiting on a chair. She went downstairs to check everything again before she went to bed. She hadn't been this excited since she was a little girl.
She'd had an e-mail from Brad that day, wishing her good luck and telling her how brilliantly she was going to do. She wasn't sure of that, but she was really excited to be going back to school. She knew it would be hard, but she was finally doing what she wanted to do.
She was up at dawn the next day, and dressed by eight o'clock, when she made breakfast for Alex. He left at eight-thirty, as he always did, and he said not a word to her. He wanted to be sure she knew he still disapproved. It was hardly a secret to her, or to anyone in the house. He simply glowered at her, and closed the front door.
She made herself another cup of coffee, and kept looking at the clock. She was going to leave at nine, and take a cab downtown. She didn't have to sign in until nine-thirty And she was just picking up her backpack, and getting ready to leave, when her laptop came alive and told her she had mail. She clicked it twice, and was surprised to see it was from Brad. It wasn't even six A.M. for him.
“Play nice in the sandbox, and have a great day! Be a good girl, and call me when you get home. Love, Brad.” It was sweet of him. She hit the reply button quickly, and set down her backpack again to answer him.
“Thank you. You're up very early! Not just for me, I hope! I'll call you…. Pray that the other kids aren't mean to me. I'm scared. But excited too. Have a nice day. Love, Fred.” It was Zoe who had always been scared that the kids would be mean to her at school, and they never were. Faith was more afraid that she wouldn't do well in the classes she was taking. It had been a long time since she'd been at school.
She hurried out of the house then, and took a cab to NYU. It was confusing when she arrived, but she had a sheaf of papers telling her what to do, and where to go. They were remarkably clear and accurate, and she found her first classroom with surprising ease. And the class was even better than she thought. It was called “The Judicial Process.” It was fascinating, and the professor was interesting and challenging. She was exhilarated by the time they stopped for lunch, and she had another class that afternoon on constitutional law. She was going to school two days a week. She knew it would help her for law school in the fall, and the first one seemed like a terrific class to her.
She was exhausted when she finally headed home that afternoon, but it was the most interesting day she'd had in years. The professor of her Judicial Process class was a woman, and about Faith's age. She would have loved to stop and chat with her, but she felt shy about it, and she knew she had to get home after her Constitutional Law class. It would be four o'clock by the time she got back to the house, and she couldn't dally at school.
She set her backpack down as she came in the front door, and was already thinking of the assignments they'd been given. They were both challenging and would take time. The phone started to ring almost as soon as she walked in. She was still wearing her coat. It was Zoe.
“How was it? Do you like it, Mom?”
“I love it! It's even better than I thought.” She was happy and excited, and Zoe was irrepressibly proud of her. They talked for half an hour, and finally Faith said she had to go. She still had to organize dinner for Alex, and she wasn't sure what she had in the house. But as soon as she hung up, the phone rang again. This time, it was Brad.
“I can't stand the suspense, did you like it?” was his opening line, and she smiled.
“I loved it. I have great professors, it seems like the people in my classes are intelligent. The time flew by, and the homework is terrifying, but I think I can handle it.” She let out a little squeak of excitement and he grinned. “I really love it! I just got home.”
“You're going to do great!” he said, thrilled for her. It was exactly what he had hoped for for her.
“Thank you for your e-mail this morning.” He didn't tell her he had set his alarm at five-thirty so he could send her off in style. “I was scared to death.”
“I figured you were. That's why I didn't call. I didn't want to give you an opportunity to fall apart, so I sent the e-mail.”
“That was smart.”
“I'm so pleased for you. Is the homework tough?”
“Sounds like it, but I think I can handle it, as long as I don't get buried in outside stuff, like dinners I have to do for Alex. That'll be hard.”
“Good thing you're not married to Pam.” They had had another huge bash on New Year's Eve. Faith and Alex had stayed home and watched TV, as they always did. And Brad said he envied them. “So what's next?”
“I work my ass off, and hopefully get into law school for the fall.” Alex was still having a fit over it, but she was slowly forging ahead, and feeling more confident after her first day of school. “I'm going to apply pretty soon.”
“Where?”
“Columbia, NYU, Fordham, New York Law School, and Brooklyn Law. I don't have a lot of geographical choice, it has to be in New York.”
“Too bad you can't come out here,” Brad said with a smile.
“Alex would be thrilled. He'd really love that. A wife who comes home from school for vacations. Although sometimes, I wonder if he'd notice if I were gone. Maybe I can hire a stand-in to do my job,” whatever that was these days, mostly it involved dinner, breakfast, the occasional dinner party, and as little conversation as possible, and once in a great, great while, making love. It was hardly a full-time job anymore.
“I would love to hire one to do mine,” Brad laughed. “He could do all the black-tie dinners, and opera and symphony openings. Boy, would I love that!” They both laughed, and Faith looked at her watch.
“I'd better get organized, or Alex will have a fit when he gets home. Whatever goes wrong from now on, will be because I'm in school. I have to be on extra-good behavior now. Perfect dinners, everything on time, dinner parties worthy of Julia Child and Martha Stewart, I can't screw up now.” She had been thinking of making him a special dinner that night, to prove that she could juggle it all, but she no longer had the time or the desire.
“That's a lot of pressure on you,” Brad said sympathetically. “Maybe you don't have to prove quite so much to him. It's not like you've done something really terrible,” he said pointedly.
“In his eyes, I did. I'll send you an e-mail later. I've got to figure out what I'm doing for dinner. And then I have to do my homework.”
“You're a good kid,” he smiled.
“You too. Thanks, Brad.” She hung up hastily, checked the fridge, and decided to run out and buy something Alex really liked.
By the time he got home, she had stuffed sole in the oven, she was making asparagus with hollandaise, and a wonderful rice pilaf from a recipe by Julia Child. And she served it all impeccably, proud of herself for pulling it all together in record time. Alex made no comment about it, ate his dinner quietly, and did not ask her how school had gone. Faith was more than a little stunned.
“Do you like the fish?” she asked, angling for a compliment from him. She thought it was one of her best. “It's a new recipe I found.” She felt like Susie Home-maker making the perfect dinner for him, and still managing to go to school, even if it was the first day.
“It's fine,” he said without expression.
“How's the hollandaise?” She knew it was just the way he liked it, and the asparagus was just right.
“A little thick,” he commented, and then she realized that she didn't have a chance. Whether he liked the dinner or not, he had no intention of telling her, and she felt anger rise up in her like a head of steam. But she said nothing, and afterward just cleaned up after the meal, without saying another word to him. It had been a lousy thing for him to do. He was not going to concede anything, which seemed like ridiculously childish behavior to her. Now that she was back in school, he could make the best of it, and deal with it. But apparently, he had no intention of making it easy for her. And as she put the dishes in the dishwasher, and he disappeared, she was enraged. She stormed into her study and took out her schoolbooks as soon as she was through. And she sat there until one o'clock doing the two assignments she'd been given. She was finished by the time she went to bed, and had finally gotten over being angry at Alex. And now she had no work to do the next day. She had everything in control.
He didn't speak to her at breakfast the next morning either, and she was irritated with him.
“It's all right, Alex, I'm not going to school today. You can talk to me. You don't have to punish me till tomorrow.” More than she realized, she was still furious with him for the way he had treated her the night before.
“I don't know what you're talking about, Faith. That's a ridiculous thing to say.”
“It's a ridiculous way to behave. We're adults. You don't like the fact that I'm going to school, okay. But I'm trying to make it the best it can be for you. You don't have to make it impossible for this to work. You're punishing yourself as much as you are me.”
“You did this, Faith. You know how I feel about it. If you don't like my reaction, you can withdraw from school.” Simple as that, as far as he was concerned.
“Is that what this is? Blackmail? You're hardly going to speak to me, and make life miserable until I quit school?” He didn't answer her, and her voice was raised. It wasn't how he liked to begin his day. Nor did she. “I guess that's one way to handle it. Not very mature, to say the least. Do you think you can give me a chance on this? And at least see how it works before you start punishing me? I've only been there one day. I mean, how bad could it be?”
“Bad enough. You shouldn't have signed up in the first place. The whole idea is absurd.”
“So is your attitude,” she blazed at him, which was rare for her. They were off to a very bad start to her school career. And law school would be even worse. But that was his whole point. He wanted to stop her before she got that far. But she wasn't going to give in that easily. If anything, it strengthened her resolve.
“I think your behavior is deplorable,” Alex said to her icily, as he picked up The Wall Street Journal, and walked out of the kitchen. He hadn't touched his food, and neither had she. It was a great harbinger of what was to come in the months ahead.
She e-mailed Brad about it that afternoon. He answered her that night. He'd been in court until five o'clock.
“Dear Fred, sorry it took me so long to answer. Long day, minor victory for one of my kids. Listening to you talk about Alex drives me insane. He is living in the Dark Ages. How the hell does he get away with this stuff? We should send him to boot camp with Pam. She'd shape him up in a week. He's just going to have to suck it up and get over it. You can't give up your life for him. It's just so wrong for you to do that.
“Can you concentrate on school with him pulling all that shit? You'll have to try. Just do the best you can. You can't be perfect all the time, no one is. Just do your best. But know that there will be screw-ups, and exams, and nights you can't get dinner on the table and do your homework. Like it or not, he has to live with it. If you drop the ball now, or give in, you'll regret it forever. I know Jack would have said the same thing. He would be so thrilled about your going back to law school. He always thought you should. Said you had more natural talent for it than he. Did he ever tell you that? He told me many times, especially while we were in law school, and he kept thinking he'd flunk out. Hang in, Freddy baby… you're gonna win! Love, Brad.” He always made her feel so much better, and she was grateful for his encouragement. She needed it desperately, and Alex continued to make her life miserable for the next month.
Faith was juggling homework assignments, minor quizzes, taking care of the house, cooking for Alex. And Zoe and Brad were keeping her afloat. It was eminently “doable,” and she knew it. She could manage both marriage and school. She had even managed to complete her law school applications. And much to her amazement, her LSAT scores had been in the highest range possible. She was hoping that her scores would compensate for the fact that she hadn't worked or gone to school for the past twenty-five years. And her current grades were straight A's.
The hard part was being iced out by Alex, and the grim atmosphere he created at home. He was overwhelmed by his own resentment for her going back to school. And all it did was get worse as the weeks rolled along. And in early February, she ran into a real crunch. They announced in her Judicial Process class that they were going on a field trip to Washington for four days. It wasn't required, but it was strongly recommended, and the professor advised her to go. There was a paper due afterward, for extra points toward her final grade. She talked to both Brad and Zoe about it, and they both thought she should take the trip. The problem, of course, was Alex. Faith hadn't even had the courage to tell him about it. She wanted to make up her own mind first, before he put pressure on her not to go, which she suspected he would.
It was the week before the field trip when she finally told him what it entailed. He was entirely silent when she explained it to him at the end of dinner. She had had a stomachache all through the meal, waiting to talk to him. As usual, they had eaten without saying a single word. Ever since she'd gone back to school, he made no pretense of maintaining good relations with her. He had become more and more blatant about shutting her out.
“So that's the deal,” she summed up. “I'll be in Washington for four days. I can leave you frozen dinners, and I don't know what your travel schedule looks like these days. Are you going anywhere next week?” She hoped he was, so her absence wouldn't create a crisis with him. That would simplify everything.
“No, I'm not,” he said bluntly, staring at her as though she had just said she'd been arrested for armed robbery and was going to jail. “I can't believe what you're doing. You're masquerading as a student, when you have responsibilities here.”
“Alex, be reasonable. Our children are grown up and gone. We're adults. What do I do here? Nothing. I cook dinner for you at night. I have nothing else to do all day. I was dying of boredom before I went back to school.” His charade had gotten more ridiculous every day. It was all about his ego and controlling her. He wanted to know that he could make her do what he wanted. But he had pushed it too far, even for her.
“I'm sorry you're so bored being married to me, Faith.”
“I didn't say that. I just don't have a lot to do anymore. You know that. It's not a secret. You wanted me to take bridge lessons and take classes at the museum. This makes more sense.”
“Not to me.”
“What about Washington?” she said, cutting to the chase. He had said it all before, and she was tired of listening to it, and lying in the dirt on her face at his feet, apologizing to him. It was getting old, to her, if not to him.
“Do what you want.”
“What does that mean?” She wanted to know from him how high a price she would have to pay. How angry would it make him, how severely would she be punished? She would probably go anyway, she had decided, but she wanted a glimpse at the price tag before she did.
“It means that you do what you want in any case. Go ahead and do it, at your own risk and peril.” It was a thinly veiled threat, and as usual, it pushed a button with her.
“I'm so tired of this, Alex. I haven't committed a crime, for God's sake. I haven't been unfaithful to you. I haven't abandoned you, or our children. Why the hell do you have to act as though I did?”
“You're insane,” he said with a look of disgust as he stood up, and prepared to leave the room.
“If I am, you're making me that way.”
“Don't blame me if you don't like the consequences of your actions.”
“Okay, I won't,” she said firmly. “I'm going to Washington. I'll be gone for four days. You can call me if you need me. And I'll leave you all the food you can eat.”
“Don't bother, I'll eat out,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You don't have to. I'll leave you dinners for four days. Then you have a choice if you want to eat in or out.” He didn't say another word, just turned on his heel and walked out.
She didn't even e-mail Brad or Zoe about it. The scene had been so humiliating and frustrating, she didn't want to tell anyone. She was dealing with it herself. And the morning she left, she said good-bye to him, and he didn't answer her. He just continued reading his newspaper and acted as though she didn't exist. If it was designed to make her feel guilty, it had the opposite effect. It just made her angry, and relieved to be out of the house. She felt as though she'd just been let out of jail when she walked out with her backpack, one small duffel, and her computer in its case over her arm. She was taking it with her, to work on, and so she could communicate easily with Zoe and Brad. But it felt great to leave.
More than half the members of her class were going on the field trip. They met at La Guardia and caught a shuttle to Reagan National Airport in Washington, D.C. They were staying in a small hotel on Massachusetts Avenue that was full of foreign students and minor businessmen from overseas. Just being there seemed exciting to Faith, and late that afternoon, after spending time at the Smithsonian and the Library of Congress, she was thrilled she had come. And she already had an idea for the paper she was going to write when she got home. She started making notes for it in her hotel room that night, and plugged in her computer to work for a while, after they had dinner in an Indian restaurant. She had spent an hour talking to the professor, it was the woman she liked so much, and she got into a fascinating discussion with some of her fellow students about the Constitution and the validity of the laws it upheld. It led to a heated battle about the First Amendment, and by the time Faith got to her room, she was exhilarated and inspired. She was typing rapidly on the computer, when it signaled her that she had an e-mail. It was from Brad.
“Hi, Fred … so how's the Judicial Process? Have you done away with it yet? Having fun? I love D.C. Had a girlfriend there when I went to college, she was the daughter of the French ambassador. Used to visit her there, never had so much fun in my life. Tried to fix Jack up with her sister, but he was so outrageous, he scared her to death. So what are you up to? Nice people? Good prof?
“All is well here. Busy days. Trial next week. My secretary informs me it's Valentine's Day next week. The day when you remember someone you love, and realize they've forgotten you, or something like that. Flowers and chocolates. Hay fever and cavities. I seem to be losing my spirit of romance. I would take Pam out to dinner, except she would probably bring two hundred friends and insist I wear black tie. I figure I'll work, and tell her I forgot. She'll probably forget too. I'm rambling. Back to work. Keep in touch. If you run for president, let me know. You'll get my vote for sure. More soon. Love, Brad.”
She loved hearing from him. He always made her laugh, or at least smile. And his blurb about Valentine's Day reminded her that she wanted to send candy to the girls. She was sure Alex wouldn't mention the day to her, he never did. They were hardly in Valentine mode anymore, particularly lately. The day no longer meant much to her.
The rest of the trip to Washington was fascinating, and continued at a brisk pace. They went to museums, libraries, universities, gathering data and information to illustrate their course. And it was only on the last morning that they ran into a major snag. They still had a final day to complete, and a last night. But the teacher got an emergency call, her mother had been taken to the hospital. She'd had a stroke and was not expected to live. She got the call on her cell phone, and was understandably upset and said she had to leave. She urged the others to complete the day and remaining night. They weren't due to go home until the following afternoon. It was Friday morning by then anyway. And they weren't due back in New York until late Saturday. But by the time she made the announcement, Faith realized that she had completed all she had to do. She had more than enough for her paper, and more than half the group decided to go home. Without their leader to direct them, they rapidly lost steam. Some of them decided to stay without her, but Faith was among the group that opted to leave at noon. It also allowed her to spend the whole weekend with Alex, which she hoped would redeem her after being gone for three days. He hadn't called her once, or returned her daily calls, since she left.
She picked up her things at the hotel, and took a cab to National with five of her classmates. They caught a shuttle home, and were back in New York at two. It was perfect. She could get home, organize her papers, and cook him a nice dinner as a peace offering. She stopped at the market on the way home, and let herself into the house shortly after three. She was carrying two bags of groceries and set them down in the kitchen, along with all her other bags and belongings. She felt like she had been gone for weeks. And as she looked around the kitchen, she was surprised to see that it was admirably neat. She wondered if he had eaten out every night after all. And as she set the bags down on the floor, she noticed a pair of shoes under a chair. They were high-heeled black satin pumps, and she didn't own any like them. But more surprising, as she picked one up and looked at it closely, was that it was several sizes larger than hers. Her heart began to pound when she saw it, and with a sick feeling in her stomach, she walked upstairs.
The bed in their bedroom had been hastily made, with the bedspread thrown over the unmade bed. And when she pulled it back, she almost instantly spotted a black lace brassiere, and as she looked down, there was a matching pair of thong underwear, seemingly hastily discarded on the floor. She was suddenly overwhelmed by a sick feeling, and sat down on the bed, feeling faint. This couldn't be happening to her. There was no way to explain it, except for the obvious. This wasn't a house-guest, or a daughter, or anyone she could explain to herself. Alex had had a woman in the house while she was gone. And when she walked into her bathroom, there were cosmetics all over her dressing table, of a brand she didn't wear, and there was long black hair in the sink. There was no way she could paint a prettier picture for herself as she saw another pair of shoes, and a sweater hanging on the towel rack. And all she could do, as she looked at two dresses and three unfamiliar suits in her closet, was cry. It hadn't even been a one-night stand. Whoever the woman was who was staying with Alex, she had obviously moved in for the entire four days.
And then with a sudden feeling of terror, she realized that they would be coming back that night, maybe even that afternoon.
Without even thinking clearly, she ran down the stairs, after throwing the bedspread over the bed the way it had been, and leaving everything else undisturbed. And she was careful to turn off the lights. She ran back into the kitchen, grabbed all her bags, including the two bags of groceries she'd purchased, and left the house. She dropped the two bags of groceries into a trash can on the street, and hailed a cab, with no idea whatsoever where to go. There was no friend she wanted to confess this nightmare to, no place to take refuge, and with no idea what else to do, she asked the driver to take her to the Carlyle Hotel two blocks away, and sat in the backseat and cried.
“That's all?” The driver looked at her, confused. It was so close, she could have walked.
“Yes, yes,” she said, in total disarray, “just go.” She was terrified that she would run into Alex and the woman as they came home. But the worst of all was that it was her home too. He had defiled their home, and their bed. All she could think of as they drove up Madison was the sight of the brassiere and the thong. And all she wanted was to die. It was the ultimate payback for her trip to Washington, if that was what he had intended. But what she also realized as they stopped at the hotel, and the doorman opened the door for her, was that this couldn't have been a new woman to Alex. He wouldn't have moved a stranger into the house for four days. He must have been having an affair with her for a while. Faith felt sick as the doorman asked her if she was checking in, and she said yes.
She didn't want to confront Alex and make a scene. She was going to stay at the hotel, and go home Saturday afternoon, as planned, which meant that Alex and the woman, whoever she was, were going to be cozily ensconced in her house. All she wanted was to check into the Carlyle and throw up.
She asked for a room, and was lucky they had one, since she had no reservation, and told them she would be there for one night, or at most for the weekend. They signed her in, handed her a key, and a bellman carried her Washington gear upstairs. She was clutching her computer as though it were the Sierra Madre treasure, and her last link to the real world. But she didn't plug it in when she got upstairs. She just sat on the bed, sobbing, and it was dark outside by the time she stopped. She didn't even know what time it was. And when she glanced at the clock, she saw it was six o'clock. She couldn't even call Zoe to tell her. She didn't think it was fair to turn her against Alex. She had to sort this out for herself. It just didn't seem possible. But it was obvious to her now that he was having an affair. After all his coldness to her, all his fury and accusations over her going back to school, all the icy unkindness he had showered on her for so long, all the distance, all the silence, all the indifference to her as a woman, he was sleeping with someone else. And the worst part was that she was more devastated than angry. She was beginning to wonder if she should have stayed and confronted them both, but she didn't feel up to it, and she needed time to gather her wits.
It was eight o'clock in New York when she called Brad. She was going to discuss it with him calmly. She wanted his brotherly advice, just as she would have called Jack if he were alive. And she knew from Brad that Pam had had several affairs, and he had strayed once. She expected him to be calmer and more worldly about it than she was, and maybe he would tell her not to get upset. But as soon as she heard his voice, she started crying again, and couldn't even form words. She just sobbed uncontrollably into the phone, and for a minute he didn't know who it was. It wasn't unusual for him to get hysterical calls from potential clients, or their parents, and for a second he thought it was one of those, and then realized with horror that it was Faith.
“Fred? … shit… oh my God, what is it? … come on, baby … talk to me … tell me what it is….” He was afraid that something might have happened to one of her kids. “Fred, sweetheart… please … try to calm down … take a breath … tell me what happened … are you hurt? … are you okay? … where are you?” He was getting more desperate by the second, and she hadn't made sense yet.
“I'm in New York,” she croaked, and then dissolved into sobs again.
“Come on now, try to tell me what happened. Are you hurt?”
“No … but I wish I were dead….” She sounded like a little girl, and all he could envision was the little eight-year-old he had known and loved, with blond braids and no teeth, when they first met.
“Are the kids okay?” That was his worst fear for her, it was what all parents feared most. He prayed that wasn't it.
“Yes … I think so … it's not them… it's Alex …,” she said, still crying, but she could get the words out now, and Brad was relieved by what he had heard so far, except for the fact that she was so desperately upset. He wondered if Alex had had an accident, or maybe a heart attack, and had died.
“Is he hurt?”
“No, I am. He's a total shit.” Brad suddenly realized they must have had a fight, and it wasn't as bad as he had feared. But it must have been a lulu, for her to be in the state she was in. He had never heard her like that. He wondered if he had beaten her up. If so, Brad thought in anticipatory fury, he was going to nail him himself.
“I thought you were in Washington. What are you doing in New York?” He knew she wasn't due back till the next day.
“The professor's mother got sick, and she had to leave. So I came home early.” She was still crying, but coherent enough to talk to him at least. He was panicked over her.
“Then what?” He was anxious to hear.
“I went home.”
“Did you have a fight with him?” Brad waved his secretary away from his desk. She was signaling that he had three calls waiting, but he didn't care. He wanted to talk to Faith, without interruptions. Everyone else would have to wait, or go to hell. His priority was Faith.
“No, the house was empty.” Suddenly, real panic overtook him. Maybe she'd run into an intruder, and been raped.
“What happened, for God's sake? Fred, you have to tell me.” She was driving him insane. He couldn't help her if he didn't know what had put her in the state she was in.
“He had a woman there,” she said, and blew her nose in a wad of Kleenex from the box next to the bed.
“She was in the house when you came home?” Brad was stunned. Alex didn't sound like the type, from what she'd said.
“No, her clothes were. There were shoes in the kitchen, her clothes in my closet, her stuff all over my bathroom, and her underwear in the bed. He's been sleeping with her!” It certainly sounded like it to Brad. There weren't many ways to explain what she'd seen. “It was disgusting … there was a thong …” She dissolved into tears again, and he couldn't help but smile in sympathy for her. Poor kid.
“Poor baby. I wish I were there. Where are you, by the way?” She had obviously gone somewhere to call. He couldn't imagine she was sitting in the house, waiting for them to come home.
“I'm at the Carlyle. I took a room for the weekend. I don't know what to do. Do you think I should go home and throw her out?”
“I don't think that's such a great idea. First, you need to calm down. And then you need to figure out what you want to do. Do you want to divorce him? Leave him? Do you even want to tell him you know? If you don't, maybe it'll just blow over.” That was what he had always done with Pam, in the interest of saving their marriage. But she had been smart enough not to bring them home. If nothing else, he thought what Alex had done was just plain dumb.
“What if he's serious about her?” Faith sounded distraught.
“Then you have a major problem.” But they both knew she did anyway. Their marriage had been unhappy for years, and Alex had just severed the last thread, along with any respect she'd ever had for him. He had broken her heart with the thong. She felt like she'd been hit by a bus. And then Brad had a thought. “Do you want me to fly in? We can hash this out before you go home. I can take the red-eye tonight if you want, and come back tomorrow night.”
“No … it's okay … I have to figure this out… what am I going to do?” She wondered what Jack would have said, but she had the feeling that whatever it was, Brad would say pretty much the same thing. They were very much alike in their views.
“I think you really have to figure out what you want before you confront him. This is your show now, Fred. You've got the ace here.” She hadn't thought of it that way, but she wasn't convinced.
“Maybe not. Not if he's in love with her.”
“And if he isn't? Do you want to stay married to him? Can you forgive him for this? A lot of people do, so don't be embarrassed if you want to just forget about it. These things blow over eventually. Most of the time at least. It's usually just a passing thing.” He hated what Alex did to her anyway, but he was trying to be fair to her, and not get her more worked up than she was. Other people had forgiven their spouses for affairs before. He had Pam, and she him. It all depended on Faith's point of view.
“How could he do this to me?” She was having a typical reaction for anyone in the situation she was in.
“Stupid probably. Bored. His ego needed a boost, he was feeling old. All the same dumb reasons everyone else has for doing that kind of stuff. Most of the time, it's not true love. Just true lust.”
“Great. He doesn't even look at me anymore, and he is sleeping with some woman in a thong. She has long black hair,” she said, remembering the hair in the sink, and Brad smiled, and wished he could give her a hug. She needed one desperately. “Maybe she's really young.”
“I can guarantee you one thing, sweetheart. You're more beautiful than she is. And it doesn't matter if she has a beard and wears a toupee. He's probably just having some fun while you're away.”
“Meanwhile, he acts like I committed a felony because I went back to school. And I've been eating shit for a month to make it up to him, and scraping around on my hands and knees. Maybe this is his idea of revenge.”
“I'm almost sure it has nothing to do with you. It's about him. Screw him. Let's worry about you. What do you say you wash your face and order a cup of tea from room service, or maybe a drink? I'll call you back in half an hour, and we'll try to figure this out. All I want to help you decide is what you want to do. What I think is irrelevant here.”
“But what do you think?” she wanted to know.
“What do I think?” he said, trying to stay calm. “I think he's a complete son of a bitch, and a pathetic little prick, but not just because of this. He drags you around by the hair constantly, in one way or another, he freezes you out, you're lonely all the time, and now he does a dumb thing like this. Personally, I think he should be shot. But if you want to stay married to him, I support you a hundred percent. Because I don't love him, you do, and I'm not married to him.” He respected her marriage, and her desire to stay in it, as much as his own. Although he wished she had left Alex years before, for her sake.
“I'm not sure what I feel for him anymore. Right now, I hate him, and I feel humiliated and stupid and unloved. I don't know if I love him or not. I just thought I'd always be married to him, now I'm not so sure.” A door was opening that seriously frightened her, and she felt desperately insecure.
“Well, don't make any rash decisions until you figure that out. I'll call you back in half an hour.” He had eleven urgent phone messages waiting for him by then. He answered seven of them, asked his secretary to take care of the others. It was six o'clock for him by then, and fortunately he knew Pam was going out with friends.
Faith had ordered a pot of tea, and had splashed cold water on her face by the time he called her back half an hour later. But she had no idea what she was going to do about Alex, and just thinking about him in their house that night with the woman in the thong made her feel sick.
“How are you doing?” he asked sympathetically.
“I don't know. I feel weird.” And she sounded it. Like she was disconnected, and tired.
“What kind of weird?” He was suddenly worried she might have taken some pills, or done something else to herself. But she was more sensible than that.
“Just weird. Disillusioned, betrayed, screwed over. Numb. Sad.” She couldn't think of any other adjectives, but he was relieved.
“Oh, that kind of weird, that's fine. You should. I've been thinking about this, Fred. I think you should probably tell him what you know. If you don't, it'll just poison you. Let him figure out how to clean this up. But don't do anything you don't want to do. I'm just telling you what I think.”
“I think you may be right. I don't even know how to tell him what I saw.”
“That's the easy part. He knows. This isn't news to him, just to you.”
“I guess that's true.”
“The news flash here is that you know. Of course you can call him tonight, and give him a heart attack, and tell him you're watching the house. That ought to give him a little jolt,” he said evilly.
“He's not answering the phone.” She had tried all week.
“Well, that's smart at least. He'll probably be pretty hostile when you tell him you know, whenever you do. Guys don't like to get caught flat out, and one way or another, he'll try to make it your fault.”
“How?”
“You've been neglecting him, you don't love him anymore. He thought you were having an affair, although it's not likely he'll accuse you of that.” She was squeaky clean, and he figured Alex knew it too. “Maybe he'll say it's because you went back to school. Whatever it is, he'll try to lay it on you to absolve himself.”
“Do you suppose he's serious about this girl?” Faith sounded panicked at the thought, as though she was afraid he would throw her out of their house. She couldn't even imagine what she'd do. But Brad knew that couldn't happen to her. If anyone had to leave the house, it would be him.
“That's hard to say. Probably not. My guess is she's just a piece of ass. Sorry to be so blunt. She could even be a hooker.”
“I can't imagine him doing that, Brad.” But the underwear certainly looked like it, although lots of people wore underwear like that these days. Even Faith's kids. “I don't think that's his style, a hooker, I mean.”
“You never know. I hate to think of you sitting in that room, worrying about it all night. I don't suppose you'll get much sleep.”
“Maybe I'll get up in the morning and go to church. I have your rosary beads with me.” She was going to need more than rosary beads now. She was going to need a cool head, and maybe a good lawyer. Brad just wished he were there.
“You need to think this out quietly, Fred. Just figure out what you want before you make any moves.”
“I think I want to know what's going on, who she is, what she means to him. I want to know the truth.”
“If he'll give it to you. He doesn't strike me as the type. I think he'll do everything he can to accuse you, and then shut you out to protect himself.” Brad knew the species well. He had seen a lot in his years, among clients and friends and associates, and he had made some mistakes himself, though none as foolish as this.
“I think you're right,” Faith agreed. “Thank you for listening to me. I'm sorry I'm such a mess.” But she sounded a lot better than she had when she first called. He thought someone had died.
“You scared me to death. I thought something had happened to you, or one of the girls. This is pretty lousy stuff, but at least everyone's alive.”
“I'm not sure I am,” she said, sounding depressed.
“You will be once you sort this out.” It was after seven o'clock in San Francisco, and after ten in New York by then. “I think you should take a bath and go to bed. I'm going to go right home. If you need me, call. You can call at any hour. I'm here for you, Fred. I just wish there were more I could do.”
“You did everything you could. You did what Jack would have done. All you can do is talk to me, and you did. I have to figure this out for myself,” she said, sounding terminally sad.
“You will, Fred. I know you'll do the right thing.”
“What am I going to tell the girls if we break up over this? I don't think they should ever know.”
“Why not? You didn't do it. He did. He has to face the consequences of a very stupid move. It's not your job to keep it a secret for him. You don't owe him that, Fred.”
“Zoe will hate him for this.” And Ellie would find some excuse.
“She hates him anyway,” Brad said practically, “and I'm not so sure she's wrong. He hasn't been much of a father to her, nor much of a husband to you, from what I can see.”
“It hasn't been great,” Faith admitted, “but it's just the way it is.” It brought his mind back to the conversation they'd had the night they had dinner, about the compromises one made to stay married, when things didn't turn out the way you'd hoped. He wondered if it was going to be worth it to her to stay married to Alex in the end. At any price, to keep the peace. He hoped not, but he didn't want to influence her. He had no right, since he had done pretty much the same thing. He'd been turning a blind eye to Pam's affairs for years. It was easier that way, for him at least. But he thought Faith deserved a better break. And he probably did too, but he preferred not to rock the boat, and maintain the status quo.
“You sound beat. Try to get some sleep.” He was sure she wouldn't close her eyes all night, and so was she. But he thought she should try. “Why don't you call down for a massage? They probably have somebody who could come up even at this hour.”
“I'll just take a bath.” She wasn't used to pampering herself. Only everyone else. It had been that way for years.
“Call me at home, if you want. I'll be home in ten minutes.”
“Thanks, Brad … I love you, big brother….” She really did.
“I love you too, kiddo. We'll get you out of this mess … one way or another. It'll sort itself out. You'll see.”
“Yeah. Maybe so,” she said, sounding wiped out. But she didn't sound convinced, and neither was he. Alex was the unpredictable element in the piece. It was hard to know how he was going to react if Faith confronted him. Badly, Brad suspected as he drove home. He would have liked to give him a swift kick in the ass for what he had just done to Faith. It would have been one for the home team.