“Well, generally it’s poor living conditions,” Ruth said firmly. “Rampant flies and unclean water. This is common knowledge.” She gave me a look that shut me up and I let it go. I have to live with this woman. And honestly, I felt happier than I had in a long time because I was thinking of Vincent. That isn’t good, is it, dear friend? I know I need to live in the real world, but my real world is too difficult for me right now.
Well, guess what I did this afternoon? I went to the library and researched divorce in North Carolina. The results were depressing. Gina, it’s impossible! I grew more despondent the more I read, but I simply have to find a way out of this loveless, lifeless, stultifying marriage! Henry is dead set against a divorce. He’s good to me, but he clearly doesn’t love me so I don’t understand why he’s so against ending our marriage. It would be a stain on the Kraft name and I guess that’s enough to make it unthinkable for him. Nevertheless, I feel a need to educate myself to the possibilities.
It took me nearly an hour to track down the book I needed at the library because I didn’t dare ask the librarian where I might find it and have to answer any nosy questions. “The North Carolina Code of 1944.” Yawn! I settled down at one of the tables to read and immediately found myself bogged down in pages and pages of tiny text. Anyway, here are the miserable facts: to get divorced, Henry and I would need to live separately for two full years … unless I could prove that he’d committed adultery, or that he was impotent, or that he’d committed an “abominable and detestable crime against nature with mankind or beast.” Oh my! I pondered the word “adultery” for a long time. I’ve told you he sometimes doesn’t come home at night. Is he really working at the factory those nights like he says? Could he possibly be having an affair? He’s so disinterested in having relations that it’s hard to picture, although maybe he’s only disinterested in having relations with me.
But as I continued reading, I began to get an idea. I read that a marriage can be voided if the man is impotent. Voided. Similar to an annulment. It would be as if we had never been married. Henry had certainly not been impotent the night we were together in Washington, but maybe something has happened to him since then. Some change, physical or psychological. What do you think? When I was pregnant, I thought he might be afraid to be intimate with me, and afterward, of course, the doctor told us not to have relations for six weeks. But now, eight weeks have passed, and Henry’s no more interested in making love than he had been when I was pregnant. So could he possibly be impotent? And how on earth will I ever be able to ask him that question! He’s such a private person that I can’t imagine it. But it might be our answer—or at least my answer. I’m hoping the word “void” might be more palatable to him than “divorce.” I doubt, though, that he’ll embrace the word “impotence” very easily.
At any rate, I’m meeting him later today at the new house to see how it’s coming along and I plan to broach the subject with him then. I have no idea how. We don’t talk easily about anything, really, so this is going to be particularly delicate. Gina, if by some miracle he agrees to end our marriage, do you think I could live with you and your mother for a short time until I find a job and can get a place of my own?
As usual, I’ve gone on and on about myself. I’m so thrilled that you finally heard from Mac. Please let him know I’m thinking of him and I hope he’s not in harm’s way. Tell your mother I said hello. How I miss you and Little Italy and St. Leo’s and everything! Have some pizza for me, Gina. They’ve never even heard of it down here, and I am ever so tired of grits!
Love,
Tess
44
I dropped the letter to Gina in the corner mailbox as I walked the short distance to Henry’s new house. I still couldn’t think of the house as ours. With Andrew gone, I didn’t want to.
The day was beautiful, the blue sky dotted with cottony white clouds, and I began to dream about the future as I walked. If our marriage ended, was returning to Baltimore the best plan? I wasn’t sure. I would be too close to Vincent if I were in Baltimore and that would be difficult, but moving in with Gina and her mother for a while would allow me to get on my feet again. The best part of ending my marriage to Henry would be leaving Hickory. Leaving Ruth and Lucy. I could leave the husband who treated me kindly but not warmly, the way you’d treat a stray cat you came across from time to time. I needed to get out of this marriage to find myself again. I wanted Tess back. I’d lost her these last few months. More than anything, I wanted my freedom.
Henry’s new house had changed dramatically since I’d last seen it. It was no longer a simple wooden frame. Now encased in rich red brick and two stories tall, it had a warmth that had been lacking before. I stood on the curb, staring at it, trying to decide if it was imposing or inviting. A bit of both, I thought.
Henry’s Cadillac was parked on the street so I knew he was already there. I picked my way carefully up the long dirt driveway and he met me at the side door.
“What do you think?” he asked, smiling.
“It looks beautiful.” I returned his smile. “I love the brick.”
“Come in.” He held out his arm to guide me inside.
We walked through the main level where the space that had earlier been a network of posts and beams now boasted actual rooms with solid white walls and ceilings and hardwood floors, a clean canvas waiting to be filled with life and color. The stairs were finished and we climbed them carefully, since there was no banister yet in place. Upstairs, the hallway opened onto four bedrooms and a den. I bit my lip. I remembered him asking me which bedroom I would like for the nursery. He may have been recalling the same conversation, because as we explored each room, he lightly rested his hand on my back. He was being sweet this afternoon. Why was he picking today to be so loving when I was gearing up to suggest a way we could end our marriage?
“Now, finally,” he said, as we stood in the middle of the largest bedroom, the one we would share, “it’s your turn to make decisions about the house. You can pick out the wallpapers and paint colors. And we should shop for furniture.” He smiled at me. “You can select a spot in the yard to plant that tree for your mother.”
I’d almost forgotten about the tree, there were so many other things on my mind. I was touched that he remembered.
“It’s going to be a very busy few months,” he continued. “I’ve secured a professional designer to work with you. You’re to give her a call and she’ll meet you here. How about sometime next week?”
“Henry,” I said, “can we talk for a minute?”
He raised his eyebrows. “About what?”
I looked around us, wishing there was a place to sit, but the bare rooms offered nothing more than floors scattered with sawdust. I leaned back against the wall.