“Nothing at all?”
“It’s in the note, Sylvie. We haven’t gotten along since the baby was born. Since I got pregnant, really.” The reasons she and William didn’t work were like a series of dead-end streets; Julia walked quickly down one and then doubled back to try another. “We’re like a clock that doesn’t keep time anymore,” she said. “He’s not ambitious. He never knew what to do, so he wanted me to give him instructions for everything, big and small. I’m a fast walker, and he’s slow. I thought I needed a husband, because that’s what we were told as little girls, right? Or maybe not told but shown. It didn’t occur to me that I might be better on my own. I was carrying him, Sylvie.”
Sylvie listened, bent slightly at the waist as if leaning forward helped her understand.
With her sister in front of her, Julia felt less clear than she had when she was alone. She could feel the effects of staying up all night; her eyes felt gravelly, and her hands shook slightly. She put her hands in her lap so Sylvie wouldn’t see. She said, “Alice and I will be fine. I don’t need a husband. William”—she hesitated for a split second—“was right to leave.”
“Do you think he’s okay?”
Julia blinked at her, confused. “Do I think William’s okay?”
“Yes.” Sylvie looked at the pieces of paper and the hammer on the coffee table. “I think for him to do this—to miss classes, write that note—something must be really wrong.”
Julia rested her eyes on the note too so she and Sylvie were looking at the same thing. “I don’t think the end of a marriage is supposed to feel good for anyone,” she said. “Why are you worried about William?” She heard the tremor in her voice. “You should be worried about me.”
“I am, of course!” Sylvie said. “I feel terribly for you. But, Julia”—she hesitated—“it’s just that if there’s an emergency, we should do something.”
“My husband left me,” Julia said. “I don’t think that qualifies as an emergency.” She felt far away from Sylvie, even though the sisters shared the same couch. A strange thought occurred to Julia. Could it be that Sylvie somehow knew the man who had lied to Julia, handed her a check, and then left? Had her sister seen a version of William that was a stranger to his own wife? She shook her head; that didn’t make sense. Julia was tired and not thinking clearly.
“We’re the only ones who know what happened, though,” Sylvie said. “I think maybe we should call Kent, just so he knows too.”
Julia considered this. “William’s probably with Kent. If you want to, fine. His number is in the book by the phone.”
Sylvie nodded, her lips pressed together. “Do you want to make the call?”
“No,” Julia said. “This is your idea.”
Sylvie stood up and moved to the armchair. The small table beside the chair held the phone and address book. She stared at the phone while she pressed the numbers.
Julia could tell her sister felt uncomfortable, and she thought, Good. You should feel uncomfortable. You should be sitting here hugging me. Why are you worrying about William?
“Hi, Kent? This is Sylvie, William’s sister-in-law? We have a situation here, and I wanted to let you know.” She was quiet for a moment, then said, “William has been gone since last night. He wrote a note to Julia.” Sylvie cleared her throat. “Saying he was leaving their marriage. He missed work too…. No, no one has heard from him. He didn’t say where he was going. You haven’t heard from him?” There was a pause. “Yes, of course, thanks.” And then Sylvie put the phone down.
“He’s going to drive down here,” she said to Julia. “He’s concerned.”
A hot anger flashed through Julia. “He’s not coming inside this apartment,” she said. “If you want to meet Kent outside and talk to him, fine. Forgive me if I’m not concerned about the man who just walked out on me, Sylvie. And you shouldn’t be, either. God!” She stood up. “I’m going to take a nap. I was up all night.”
Sylvie looked like she was going to speak and then changed her mind. She nodded.
Julia went into her room. She lay on her bed and watched Alice in her bassinet. Julia hated that Kent now knew that William had left her. He would think Julia was a victim, even though she wasn’t. He wouldn’t know she was wearing a nice dress. He wouldn’t know she’d done her hair and put on lipstick and called Professor Cooper. He might think she hadn’t been a good-enough wife. She was in the middle of these thoughts when she fell asleep.
When Julia woke, thick yellow light was pushing through the blinds, which meant it was late afternoon. She realized she must have slept for hours. Alice was awake in her bassinet, playing with her feet. Julia scooped her up and kissed her soft cheek. “You are literally the best baby in the world,” she said.
The apartment was quiet when she opened the bedroom door. “Sylvie?”
There was no response, so Julia carried the baby into the living room. She noticed a piece of paper on the coffee table and picked it up.
J—Kent has organized a search party. I have your extra key from the spaghetti pot, so I can let myself back in. I’ll be back soon, I promise.
A search party? The phrase felt needlessly dramatic. Julia shook her head, annoyed and still groggy from sleep. Why had Sylvie gone with Kent? Julia didn’t understand what her sister was thinking, and this had never been the case before. Even when Sylvie had skipped high school classes or kissed boys in the library, Julia understood her reasoning, even if she disagreed with it. But this morning Julia had told Sylvie that her husband left her, and her sister had left her too.
“Why would you do that?” she said into the silence.
Julia fed Alice and then laid her on a blanket in the middle of the living room floor. She walked into the kitchen, aware that she was hungry. She made a sandwich from what was in the refrigerator—tuna salad, lettuce, tomato—and put it on a plate. Julia hadn’t eaten since the day before, and she devoured every bite of the sandwich, licking her fingers at the end. When the sandwich was finished, Julia was still hungry, so she ate an apple all the way down to the core. She drank one of William’s beers that was in the refrigerator. Finally sated, she changed Alice’s diaper and then read her Goodnight Moon. “You’re such a good girl,” she cooed at the baby. Alice stared up at Julia. Her expression was mild, optimistic. She was four months old and had begun to shine love at her mother like a sun. When Julia walked into a room, Alice’s entire body would shake with excitement. Now she reached up to pat her mother’s chin, which was something she did for comfort while she nursed.
There were knocks on the door at six o’clock. Julia looked through the keyhole and then opened the door for Cecelia and Emeline, with Izzy in a stroller. Both women hesitated just inside the apartment, sizing her up. “You poor thing,” Emeline said. “You must be so upset.”