The Good Life

Chapter FIFTEEN



Insert: Central Park Montage.

This is the part of my movie that could be summed up in an assortment of nice clips of Jake and me enjoying a beautiful summer day in Central Park. We played a game of Checkers, swung on the swings at one of the playgrounds (GLL Challenge #21), explored the Belvedere Castle, took a walk through the Shakespeare Garden, ate hotdogs from a vendor, walked through the most photographed area of the park, the Mall, and lounged on the infamous steps of The Met.

Jake was beyond happy with all of the photo ops. A few times during the afternoon he took my hand. I let him. It was okay for friends to hold hands, wasn’t it?

We were both exhausted when we finally collapsed on the lawn of Sheep Meadow with all of the other sunbathers. We lay on our backs with our hands behind our heads and gazed up at the view of the skyline above the trees.

“This is incredible,” he said.

I turned my head to look at him and smiled. “It really is.” Remembering GLL Challenge #15 was to take a nap in a park, I pulled my cell phone out of my purse and set my alarm for thirty minutes from now. “We’re taking a nap,” I told him.

He pulled me over toward him, and I rested my head on his shoulder and fell right asleep.

My lawyer called shortly after my alarm went off, while we walked back to the Plaza. Caleb and his team had done some brainstorming and would be ready to see me in the morning.

I had so many reasons to be nervous about it. What was he going to be like? Would he be sorry about what he had done or only sorry he got caught? Would he be mad at me for catching him or mad at himself for not changing the locks? Would he be embarrassed and lash out at me as a result? Would he yell at me for throwing up all over the place? Would it be like in the movies where a bunch of stuffy people in expensive suits argued with each other across the table right next to a window with amazing views of the city?

I wasn’t looking forward to seeing Caleb’s face again – that was for sure. Just thinking about what I had seen might make me throw up right in front of him. I was curious how long he’d been engaging in such extracurricular activities, but then again, I didn’t want to hear his answer. Ugh, so not looking forward to the meeting. I really wished I could bring Jake along for support, but I knew that would look bad. I had to stop acting like he was my lifeline anyway. I’d lived without him for eight years. I could go to a meeting without him.

“You okay?” Jake asked when we walked into our room. I had been quiet ever since the phone call.

“Just nervous,” I said with a shrug. I lay down on my bed and curled into the fetal position. “I’ve never gotten divorced before so I’m not sure what to expect from this. I’m afraid he might be mean to me.”

I saw his body tensed up as he sat next to me on the bed. “Is he usually mean to you?” he asked. He looked very concerned. Way more concerned than I deserved.

“No, no,” I said quickly. “He was never mean to me in a bullying kind of way. He was never abusive, if that’s what you think.”

I could actually see his body relax right in front of me.

“You haven’t seemed very upset about this,” he said. “Even after what we saw last night, you seem to be handling it pretty well. I thought maybe that was because he’d been hurting you and you were happy it was over.”

“No, no, nothing like that. He just worked a lot, and I was lonely. But there was no abuse. I promise.” I paused. “And if I’m handling it well, it’s because of you.”

“Really?” he looked pleased. “What did I do?”

“You did the same thing you’ve done after every break-up I’ve ever had. You distracted me and made me feel better. Does that make you feel used?”

He looked surprised. “No. Isn’t that what friends do?”

“I think friends bring over cookie dough, funny movies and tequila when their friends are sad. I don’t think most friends use sex as a distraction.”

He smiled. “Hey, I don’t mind. I’ll gladly distract you any time. If you’re worried about the meeting tomorrow, I can distract you right now.”

I smiled and shook my head. “I’m being serious. After what you said last night, about how my family were the only people you had – ”

“Hey,” he interrupted. “Don’t even think about that. I said what I had to say. I asked what I needed to ask. It’s over now. Don’t over-think it. Don’t think about it at all. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

I sat up next to him on the bed. I needed to be close to him. I needed him to know how much he meant to me. I had the sudden urge to tell him I loved him. I’d been saying “I love you” to Jake since I was a kid. But something felt different now. I couldn’t get the words out. I felt like they were suddenly going to mean too much. My chest tightened up like someone was sitting on top of me, and I felt like I was going to suffocate.

Our faces were only inches apart. He looked at me like he was waiting for me to say something. And he had a reason to think that because I did have something I wanted to say, but I couldn’t get the words out.

Don’t tell my girlfriend about this.

It was that image again. The one I’d had that afternoon in Mount Pleasant twelve years ago. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let that happen. I could say “I love you” to Jake right now and mean it with every piece of me. He could say it back, and maybe he would even mean it, too. We could make love on the fluffy Plaza bed and have a romantic night together in the city. We could go home tomorrow and have a blast finding secret places to rendezvous at the house whenever Adam was home. We could sneak kisses in when no one was looking and do a little bit more than skinny-dipping in our neighbors’ yards in the middle of the night.

Fall would come and we could rake the leaves into piles and jump around in them and go to the apple orchard for cider and carve pumpkins together to put on the porch.

During the holidays, we could hang mistletoe in the archway between the living room and dining room and then hang out underneath it so we would have an excuse to kiss. We could hide secret presents around the house for each other to find.

I had no doubt we could have a few wonderful seasons together. But I also had no doubt it would one day end. I know people say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. But I have loved and lost – three times now! And I disagreed with that proverb wholeheartedly … I mean broken-heartedly.

I stood up and walked over to the sink. I took a few deep breaths and blew them out to try to calm myself down. I’m in love with Jake, I suddenly realized. My safety guy isn’t safe anymore.



Don’t panic, I told myself. Nothing has to change. We can still be friends. The “benefits” couldn’t happen anymore, but everything else could stay the same. I just needed a distraction – again. I needed to be distracted from my distraction.

“You wanna go shopping?” I asked.

He was still sitting on the bed where I’d abruptly left him. He looked confused. “Not really.”

“You don’t have to. You have a GPS on your phone so you can do something on your own and we can meet up later if you want.”

He stood up and walked over to the sink. He stood behind me and looked at my face in the mirror. “Why do I feel like you’re trying to get rid of me?”

I gave him my best fake smile in the mirror. “I’m not trying to get rid of you. But I want to make sure you get to do the things you want to do while you’re here, and I know Chanel and Marc Jacobs probably aren’t on your list.”

They shouldn’t be on my list either. Michigan Roxie doesn’t spend three months of rent money on one handbag.

And come on, Roxie. Could you maybe try to act normal? I wouldn’t normally tell my friend to basically screw off and do his own thing in a place he’s never been. Just because I was in love with him didn’t mean I needed to be mean! This isn’t kindergarten. What the hell is wrong with me?

I turned around. That was probably a mistake because now I was facing him head on. His face was about two inches from mine, and he was looking down at me. His eyes were focused on me intently, like he was searching for an answer to my sudden change of behavior. I looked down because the eye contact was too intense for me, and what was below the eyes? His lips. Ugh, not good.

I turned around again and kept busy by applying some mascara. “I’m sorry, Jake. I don’t need to go shopping. You’re the tourist here. Is there something you want to do?”

My phone beeped in my purse. I was thankful for the interruption. He backed away from me, and I went back over to the bed and reached into my purse to grab the phone. It was a text from Hope.



HOPE: Dinner tonight?



“It’s Hope,” I told Jake. “She wants to know if we want to have dinner later, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Dinner is fine, but we need lunch first. And please don’t say another hot dog.”

I laughed and texted her back.



ME: How bout lunch first? PB & Co?

HOPE: Super.



I threw the phone back into my purse. “Let’s have lunch,” I told Jake.

We took a cab to Peanut Butter & Co by NYU. Jake loved it, as I knew he would. He had the peanut butter, banana, honey and bacon sandwich, and we all shared the eight different varieties of peanut butter in the sampler platter.

After lunch, he let us show him around The Village, Soho and Tribeca. I managed to keep my cravings for shopping at bay, but when we walked past the Marc Jacobs store, I couldn’t help but open the door so I could smell it. I know. I’m lucky I didn’t get arrested.

We took a ride on the Staten Island Ferry so Jake could get some pictures of the skyline and the Statue of Liberty. Then it was time for some cocktails and tapas for dinner.

It was nice having Hope around the whole time because I was a little apprehensive about being alone with Jake. I could tell by the little glances I kept getting from him throughout the night that he was suspicious of me. He could tell something was different. I was hoping to avoid that conversation until I got my feelings into check.

At one point, when Jake had gone to the bathroom, Hope said to me, “I would’ve told you to fall in love this summer, but I thought that was too ambitious.”

“No way,” I said. “I haven’t even had a chance to fall in like. I’ve been too busy moping around to meet guys.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Really, Roxie? You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say I didn’t think you could fall in love so soon, but I underestimated you.”

“Oh, you mean Jake?” I flipped my hand and blew my bangs out of my eyes. “That’s just a childhood crush. I have love for him, but it’s not something that could work out in the grown-up world.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Too much history. Too much family involvement. He being a Casanova. Me being a flake who never knows what I want. Lots of reasons.”

“I’m adding an amendment to the Good Life List,” she informed me. “It’s called Take a F*cking Chance!”

“I took a chance on Caleb, and where did that get me?” I asked.

“It got you a lot more than you realize,” she said seriously. “It got you to New York. It got you to me. You lived in an apartment I would give my arm for. Like, I would seriously let you cut off my arm with a dull steak knife to live there. And Caleb used to be an okay guy, too. You had some good years together. It wasn’t a total waste. It just didn’t work out. He changed. You changed. Things happen. But you can’t use that as an excuse to give up something that could be great. Don’t let him get away again!”

I was glad Jake came back to the table then, and I didn’t have the opportunity to argue with her. My feelings for Jake were too personal for me to discuss. With anyone. That was why, when we got back to the hotel, I feigned exhaustion and went straight to bed.



I let the hotel know we needed a late checkout since my meeting wasn’t until ten, and I wasn’t sure how long it would last. I didn’t want poor Jake to have to sit on top of our bags in the lobby.

The meeting was over before noon and as soon as I got outside I checked my phone and saw I had a text from Jake.



JAKE: Going to see Times Square. Meet me for lunch when you’re done.

ME: Last time I ate in a restaurant in Times Square, I got food poisoning. There was so much power in my diarrhea, it propelled me off the toilet seat like a torpedo taking out a submarine.

JAKE: LMFAO! We can go somewhere else.

ME: I know a place more authentic. Go to the subway on 42nd and take the One train to W 79th. ONE train. I’ll meet you.

JAKE: One train. Got it.



Since my meeting had been held on the Upper West Side, I arrived at the intersection of West 79th and Broadway before he did. I waited at the top of the stairs where he would exit the subway. After a few trains’ worth of people walked past me, I finally saw him. The fact that he had been able to navigate the subway system with only a little instruction sent sparks over to my dynamite stick. He didn’t help matters any by smiling that smile that made me want to tear his clothes off right in the middle of the busy intersection. I waved and watched him walk up the stairs toward me.

If I had been a stranger watching the scene unfold, I would have wondered who that smile was for. I would have waited to see which one was “that girl.” I would have wondered if she knew how lucky she was to be loved like that. Sometimes you can see love in a person’s eyes and, in that moment, I saw it. It was hard to believe it was looking at me. It might not be there forever, but right now I was “that girl.” I was the lucky one.

When he reached the top he hugged me, and it wasn’t a friends-only hug either. He wrapped his arms around my lower back and pulled my whole body into his, and I let him. I knew that anyone who was looking at us was probably envious. To the outside, we probably looked like a perfect couple.

I took him to Zabar’s for lunch.

“How did the meeting go?” he asked for the second time while we stood in line at the deli.

“I’ll tell you about it when we sit down.”

It was crowded. The tables inside were already taken so we took our pastrami sandwiches outside and found a bench on the median.

“How’d the meeting go?” he asked for the third time.

I had just taken a huge bite of my sandwich so I pointed at my mouth to let him know I couldn’t speak at the moment.

“You’re doing this on purpose aren’t you?” he asked.

I shook my head innocently and finally answered him when I stopped chewing.

“It went well. He was embarrassed and apologetic and looked like a dog with his tail between his legs.”

“Good. So you got what you wanted then.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. I knew him better than to think he would be nosy and pry.

“Yeah,” I said. Truth was I could’ve gotten more. My lawyer wanted to push him and bring up the picture, but I was satisfied with their offer and didn’t think it was necessary to embarrass him any further. Being a trophy wife was fun while it lasted, but I didn’t want to be the girl who lived her whole life off of her ex’s money like a bad sitcom-in-syndication. I didn’t want to be a cast member on any Ex-Housewives Who Took All His Money reality shows. I wanted to find a way to make my own money and take care of myself. My student loans were paid off during the marriage and now he was taking care of most of my credit card debt. He was also buying me out of the condo, which ended up being worth a little more than we thought.

Considering all that, plus two years of maintenance and health insurance and his offer to pay part of my schooling in the future, I would have been one greedy ass bitch to pull that blackmail card out of my pocket.

“Does this mean it’s officially over?” Jake asked.

“No,” I explained. “Officially we have to wait for the judge to sign, but unofficially it’s done with.”

“Good,” he said.

I was relieved the meeting was over and even more relieved that he’d offered so much without any issues. There had been no yelling, bitterness, or even a need for my trademark sarcasm. It was amicable. We both acted like adults. Even so, it didn’t feel right to be jumping for joy over the end of my marriage. I knew reconciliation between us was impossible. I knew there was nothing I could have done to make things work (except maybe strapping on a you-know-what). And I truly believed I’d be happier and more fulfilled in the future than I’d been in the past. All this considered, though, there was still a part of me that felt like a failure, not just because of my marriage, but because of the time wasted.

When we were done eating we balled up all our garbage and I walked it over to the trash can on the corner. Jake looked at his phone to check the time.

“Are you ready to get our bags and get on the road?” he asked when I sat back down.

No! Never!

When I was a little girl, my parents went out with their friends every Friday night and left Adam and me with a babysitter – some teenager who lived down the street. She was nice and all. She let us stay up late to watch the entire TGIF lineup on ABC and never made us eat veggies. But she wasn’t my mom and dad, and every time they tried to leave I would fling myself onto one of my parents’ legs and wrap my little arms around them and scream and cry and carry on like I was gunning for an Academy Award.

At the thought of leaving NYC, I felt like doing the same thing.

This is my home! Just sitting here in the sunshine – watching the yellow cabs and buses go by, listening to the sirens and horns, the smell of my coffee mixed with the scent of hotdogs and sauerkraut coming from the vendor on the corner, the family of tourists on their way to the museum, the speed-walking business class trying to grab a quick bite on their lunch breaks, the woman wearing a pin-striped suit with purple Chuck Taylor shoes – it was all so New York. With Jake sitting right beside me, it was absolutely perfect.

I sighed and stood up. “Yeah, I guess we have to.” I tried to disguise the disappointment in my voice, but I doubted Jake missed it. He never missed anything.

The drive home was never as fun as the drive there. He did most of the driving and I played with the music, just like last time. But the atmosphere wasn’t the same.

When you begin a road trip there are so many possibilities and places to explore and get lost in. But when you have to go home and return to your normal not-on-vacation life, you can’t expect everyone to be filled with cheer.

Even so, something wasn’t quite right about us. Knowing that, though, didn’t make me want to talk about it. I did a lot of fake sleeping to avoid conversation.

After a very long eight hours, we finally made it home and dropped our bags in the living room. Jake said he was tired and going straight to bed.

I yawned. “Yeah. Me, too.”

“I don’t know how you could be tired since you slept practically the whole way home.”

“Oh, well, you know,” I explained. “It’s like when you’re super tired and you can’t sleep – except it’s the opposite. I’m so not-tired that I can’t stay awake.”

He gave me a sad smile and shook his head as though he didn’t believe me. “Whatever you say, Roxie. Goodnight.”

“Jake,” I said as he started to walk away.

He turned back around.

“Umm,” I began. Suddenly I felt shy and insecure. “Thanks for coming with me. It was nice to have a friend there.”

He nodded slowly, like he was letting my words marinate for a minute. “No problem,” he said and then paused before adding, “friend.” The word sounded a bit harsh. “Glad I could help.”

“Are you mad at me?” I asked. Ugh, I hate it when my insecurities speak without my permission. Jake seemed to have a bit of aggression in his voice, and he probably was mad at me, but I was supposed to be playing the-girl-who-doesn’t-care. Blurting that out pretty much gave me away.

He shook his head slowly. “No. I’m not mad at you. I’m confused. You clammed up, and you’ve been acting weird since yesterday.”

I understood what he was saying. He was right. I had been acting weird.

“I thought you were worried about the meeting,” he continued, “but you said everything went well. Except you looked sad when you said it, so I don’t know what that means.”

He was right again. I was sad. I was sad because I knew I had to move out. The reason I had moved in with Jake and Adam was because I didn’t have enough money for my own place. That wasn’t the case anymore, and it only made sense I would get out of their way. Except I didn’t want to go to all the trouble of packing my things and loading a moving truck just to move a mile away. If I packed, I was going home to New York. It was the only thing I could do. It was the only thing that made sense to me. But how could I tell Jake without upsetting him?

I put a hand to my forehead and scrunched up my eyes. My head was killing me. “It’s just that a lot of things happened today in that meeting, and now there are things that will change and it’s a lot to think about right now.”

“What happened?” he asked. “Are you guys getting back together? Is that why you’re acting weird?”

“God, no!” I said quickly. “No. Absolutely not. Never.”

“Did he give you the condo? Is that was this is about? Are you moving back to New York?”

I sighed and sat down on the couch. I put my head in my hands because I hated having to tell him I was leaving again.

“No,” I said quietly to the carpet. “He didn’t give me the condo. I would never be able to afford it.”

“But?” His voice was already getting louder. I was glad Adam wasn’t home because I had a feeling this was going to be a blow out.

“But he’s giving me half of what it’s worth. Well, minus what we owe.”

“And?”

“And he’s paying off most of my credit cards.”

“And what does that mean?” he asked, even though I knew he knew what it meant.

I shrugged and looked up at him with tears in my eyes. “I’m sorry, Jake,” I whispered. “Being there, it’s the only thing that feels right to me. I’m not running away. I’m only going back home.”

“So what you’re saying is you’re moving back to New York?”

“Yeah,” I whispered and looked back down again. And I waited. I waited for the explosion of accusations, for the psychoanalyzing, for him to tell me how crappy of a person I was to be leaving him AGAIN.

But it didn’t happen.

He was quiet for a minute before he walked toward me on the couch. I felt a teardrop dangling from my chin and watched it splat onto the toe of his Adidas shoe. He patted my shoulder.

“If that’s the only thing that feels right to you,” he said quietly, “then you should go.”

He left the room. I heard him walk up the stairs to his bedroom. Then I cried some more.