Four Friends Page 3

  “I think I admire you more than anyone,” Kelly said.

  “Aww, come on...”

  “Being able to forgive him for something like that... That took such courage, such commitment.” Kelly’s chin was hooked over Gerri’s shoulder, their arms tight around each other, and Gerri could see her own eyes in the bathroom mirror. They were huge. Her mouth was set; she ground her teeth. Suddenly she thought she looked much older than she had that morning. “I’d forgive John an affair, if he just wanted to be forgiven, to be together again, like we were. God, I miss him so much! I know most women say they’d never forgive that, but I would.”

  Gerri had to concentrate to keep from stiffening, to keep herself from either squeezing Kelly to death or throwing her against the stall doors in a fit of denial. Kelly knew everything about Phil. In some ways, she knew him better than Gerri did. He definitely checked in with Kelly more than Gerri; Kelly had to know him like a wife, a buddy, a best friend and a mother to do what she did for him.

  “Some things are very hard to get beyond,” Gerri said softly. “But anything is possible.”

  Kelly pulled out of Gerri’s embrace and, smiling gratefully, said, “But you did it because you’re strong and wise. You amaze me. You could have just gotten mad and thrown him out—and both of you would have lost each other forever. But you’re so good together.”

  Gerri tilted her head and smiled, a completely contrived smile. Her gut was in a vise. “You like him too much,” she said. “I should be jealous. You know more about him than I do.”

  “Not hardly.” Kelly laughed. “Seriously, you’re a role model for me. If you can put yourselves back together, better than ever, after another woman, then I can at least try harder to understand what’s wrong before I give up on John.”

  There it was, the smoking gun. Another woman. Kelly knew Phil had had an affair, something Gerri had never once suspected. Her mind raced. When? How? Not Phil, she thought. He was a complete partner! He bitched about it, sure. What he wanted was to devote himself to his work, which was important work, and come home to tranquility and order. That wasn’t happening at their house, which was full of kids, strife, challenge, noise, confusion. There was always something. He complained, true, but he always came through. Not always grinning like an idiot, but neither did she.

  She was no different. Her work was equally vital and she faced the same chaos at home. Being the woman on the team, however, it seemed to fall to her to attempt to pull it together, assign jobs, schedule events. To keep things running smoothly, she needed him and she didn’t take him for granted any more than he did her. They’d made the kids together; there were obvious compromises involved in growing them up. As far as she could remember, they’d never failed to work together to get it done.

  When? How?

  She could remember a few rough patches, some periods of adjustment, but she could not remember noticing any of the obvious signs. She paid the bills—there were no unexpected withdrawals of cash, no charged jewelry, flowers, hotel rooms. He’d never been missing for long periods of time. There were no odd phone calls, even on his cell. He took every evening and weekend call within her hearing; he had a tendency to talk so loud she shushed him so she could hear the TV or read. He’d never come home too late to explain; he’d never smelled like another woman. Those nights he stayed in the city, she’d often called him late. He’d always answer, they’d talk for a long time—you don’t do that if someone else is lying beside you. Oh, God, she thought. This isn’t happening to me. He can’t have had an affair! When the hell did I leave him alone long enough for an affair? We were on our phones all the time, checking in, working out schedules....

  “Counseling,” she said to Kelly, giving her arm a pat. “Now wash your face and get a grip.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “Email me those names?”

  “Of course,” Gerri said. He’s going to fire her when he finds out about this. “Do me a favor, will you please? I invited Phil to lunch, but I had an emergency come up just as I got here and I have to handle something immediately. I was going to swing by the office and tell him myself, but I have to get moving. Please tell him we saw each other in the elevator and I’m sorry, I have to stand him up.”

  “Oh, too bad,” she said.

  “I have to rush, Kelly. Oh, and Kelly—don’t mention our talk to Phil. About...it’s a very sensitive subject.”

  “Still?” Kelly asked as if surprised.

  “I’m sure he’d like to keep all that private stuff from the rest of the office.”

  She laughed. “Well, the gossip died off a long time ago—years ago.”

  Years ago? Years ago? Years ago? Where was I? “Still,” Gerri said. “It is. At least for us.”

  “I understand,” Kelly said.

  “Good luck,” Gerri said, giving her one last squeeze. Then she almost ran out of the ladies’ room to the elevator, to the ground floor, to the parking garage, to the Golden Gate Bridge. She was in a trance of disbelief. The first thing she did was think of the many explanations he might come up with to make this all go away. Bullshit, he would say. When was that supposed to have happened? he would ask. That’s impossible! If there was talk about something like that, I didn’t know about it! I was always too goddamn busy with games and meets and concerts and meetings to fit in an affair! Where did you get something as nuts as this?

  But it was a long drive back to Mill Valley and by the time she got there, she knew. It was true. He’d had an affair. His assistant had known about it as had others in the office. And she had not. Not even a whiff. He had pulled it off.

  She didn’t go back to her office, she took the afternoon off and went home. She spent the entire time until the kids came home in the office she shared with Phil. They had a big home, one of the largest on the street. Their office and the master bedroom were on the ground floor, four bedrooms on the second floor, one for each kid and a guest room.

  The office was nicely divided with a built-in desk running along three walls in a U-shape. They shared a computer, but each had their own laptops, as well, and bookshelves to the ceiling, plus two large walk-in closets—one for each of them that held their filing cabinets and shelves for supplies.

  Gerri knew Phil’s password and opened his email. But if she knew his password, he wouldn’t save anything she could see, yet she looked through all the saved files, all the old emails. Nothing, of course there was nothing. And he certainly wouldn’t keep personal, incriminating files in the prosecutor’s office—it was a political job, constantly under scrutiny.

  She spent a little time looking through hard files he brought home, but in no time at all she knew she wouldn’t find anything. There wouldn’t be any evidence.

  Yet she knew. She knew.

  two

  SONJA HAD A meditation group in the morning at the community rec center and right after that she spent a couple of hours at the health food co-op, but when she got back home in the early afternoon, she noticed that the kitchen carpenter’s truck was backed up to Andy’s open garage, and Andy’s car was there, as well. The pile of Bryce’s things was gone from the front yard. She couldn’t restrain herself any longer and she went into the house through the opened garage, guided by the sound of an electric screwdriver. When the noise paused she said, “Knock, knock.”

  The carpenter turned away from the shelf he was removing. “Hello,” he said.

  “Hi. Bob, isn’t it?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Is Andy here, by chance?”

  “She’s around here somewhere,” he said.

  “Whew, this is messy work, isn’t it?” she said to him.

  “I’m afraid it gets to be a real messy ordeal,” he confirmed, going back to his job.

  Sonja wandered through the kitchen and into the house. She called out to Andy and Andy yelled, “Back here.”

  In the master bedroom, Andy was folding clothes into a cardboard box. “Oh, boy,” Sonja said. “This doesn’t look good.”r />
  “Depends on your point of view,” Andy answered. “It’s probably long overdue.”

  “You’re moving him out?”

  “I’m packing up his clothes. He didn’t bring much into the relationship. Bryce has always lived kind of loose—few attachments.” She gave a sigh and folded a pair of jeans into the box. “I should have considered that.”

  “Does he have things like furniture?”

  “Boy things—a big-screen TV, motorcycle, sound system, computer. Basics.”

  “How are you holding up?”

  “Hanging in there. Noel is coming over later. I’ll explain to him, but he won’t be surprised.” She looked back into the box. “Or disappointed.”

  “Oh, Andy, I hate that this is happening...”

  “Like I said, it’s overdue. If I’d had a brain, I wouldn’t have gotten into it to start with.”

  “So what got you into it?” Sonja asked.

  She shrugged. “I think it was his basic equipment. Handsome, young, funny, endowed.” She looked up from her work. “I was just so lonely by the time he came along. You know?”

  Sonja shook her head sadly. “I’m going to go home and make you something for dinner, something healthy and fortifying. Plus, a plateful of chocolate cookies. Well, they’ll be carob without sugar, but it’ll get you over the hump, and carob is so soothing to the digestive tract. I’ll round up some tea that’ll calm you so you can think clearly and feel your body’s messages....”

  “Thanks, I appreciate the thought, but my body is sending me the message that it wants a greasy burger and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, with a gin chaser. Or two.”

  “Oh, I know that’s what you think you need,” Sonja admonished. “But that’ll just dull the senses and prolong the recovery. Trust me. And tomorrow morning, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to burn some sage and waft the essence through the house with feathers. To clear away his presence.”

  “Shouldn’t you wait until he picks up his stuff?” Andy asked.

  “I’ll do it again, after. Would you like something to equalize you? I could give you a massage and balance your chakras.”

  “No one’s touching my chakras today, Sonja. Not even you.”

  “I have some cleansing herbs, if you’d like to do a body cleansing. It can give you such a fresh feeling.”

  “Doesn’t that sound terrific? The shits for twenty-four hours? No, thanks. What I’d really like to do is get his stuff out of my space.” Andy glanced at her watch. “I have a doctor’s appointment in two hours, then Noel will be over.”

  Sonja’s face took on a startled expression. “Are you feeling sick?”

  “No. Just a precaution,” she said. “It turns out Bryce hasn’t been faithful.”

  “Oh, God! Oh, Andy! I’ll whip up a herbal drink for you!”

  “Due respect, Sonja, but if Bryce left me any souvenirs that drink will probably have to be made up of antibiotics.”

  Sonja actually got tears in her eyes. “I just hate him,” she hissed.

  “Good,” Andy said. “That makes me feel way better than herbs. Let’s all just hate him for a while.”

  Sonja opened her arms. “Let me hug you,” she said.

  Andy dropped the clothing into the box and let herself be drawn into Sonja’s arms. There was something about the way she held her that almost brought tears to Andy’s eyes. Sonja’s remedies and hocus-pocus bored her to sleep, but she had a nurturing spirit underneath it all that was wholly genuine and, in fact, healing. She was small, soft and strong, gentle and comforting. Before letting go, Sonja whispered, “Is there anything I can do for you right now?”

  Andy pulled back and smiled. “Nothing. Just let me finish all this. It will help, believe me.”

  “I’ll be home this afternoon. Call me if you think of anything at all. If I can drive you to the doctor so you won’t be alone, I’d be happy to.”

  Andy laughed softly. “Believe me, I know the drill. This is my second cheating husband and I was single a long time in between. I practically have a standing appointment.”

  Sonja said goodbye to Bob as she left through the kitchen. It crossed her mind that the disaster in there was very bad for relationships, it being the rear right of the house. She had suggested to Andy that they find somewhere else to stay during renovations, but Andy blew her off.

  Ordinarily an afternoon with no classes or appointments for her consulting would make Sonja anxious—it meant she wasn’t getting the word out through referrals from people whose lives had been enhanced, and that wasn’t a good feeling. But today, she needed the time for herself. Even though she hadn’t liked Bryce, she grieved for the marriage. It would upset the balance in the neighborhood. She thought about her friends. Their husbands didn’t have a great deal in common, but on those occasions they socialized as couples, the men found plenty to talk about. They would stand around in a little clot, holding a drink or beer, talk seriously about their work or politics, tell some off-color jokes, pick at their wives behind their backs like men do—pure, simple pleasure for them.

  Sonja met George when she was twenty-eight, he thirty-eight. They dated for two years before marrying and would soon celebrate their tenth anniversary. She hadn’t had many relationships before George and she knew why. She was considered eccentric. But George being mature worked out so well—he was calm, consistent. He might not fully appreciate all her zealous care, but she was keeping him healthy and his home life serene. He didn’t like to argue; he liked stability and predictability, and she liked that he liked that. She could work with that.

  She prepared a small meat loaf for him that was more loaf than meat because his cholesterol was up. She lit a few candles around the house and put on one of her soothing CDs, the kind you would hear in the background at the spa. The effect was very calming. George was a financial planner and his work was fraught with tension as he dealt with clients’ futures and moved people’s money around. She had time for a warm soak in the tub and a brief meditation so that when he walked through the door she’d smell delicious and be perfectly centered.

  When he came in she smiled at him, then her eyes dropped to his shirt. “Oh, George, what did you spill?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, looking down. He brushed at the spot.

  “Don’t worry, I can get it out. Can I fix you a special tea? I have just the thing if you’ve had a hard day.”

  “No, thanks, Sonja. My day calls for a Scotch.”

  She clucked and shook her head. “If you must. I’ll have dinner in just a little while—I have to run a meal over to Andy. She’s under the weather.”

  “She is?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows.

  “I’ll tell you about it over dinner. Just be a minute.”

  She took two containers on a tray across the street to Andy’s. When she saw Noel’s car in the drive she knew she’d just hand them off; she didn’t want to interrupt them. When Andy opened the door, the unmistakable aroma of greasy pizza drifted through and Sonja frowned, then forced a smile. “Trust me,” Sonja said as she passed the tray. “This is better for you.”

  Andy said thank-you and Sonja went back to her own kitchen. She caught George fixing a second Scotch and chose not to comment.

  Once they were settled with their meals—hers was a pasta and greens salad with beans, his was the loaf-meat and vegetables—she said, “Bryce and Andy have split up. They’re getting divorced.”

  “Oh?” he said, looking up from his fork briefly. “Too bad.”

  “It was really dramatic. When Gerri and I went walking this morning, she was throwing his belongings out the front door onto the lawn, and they were screaming obscenities at each other.”

  George smiled. “Is that so?”

  “It’s not funny, George. She has to be tested for venereal diseases. Apparently he hasn’t been faithful.”

  George made a face. “Really—I don’t need to know that.”

  “Some people have pretty complicated, tragic relationships.�
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  “I guess that’s true,” he answered. He pushed his plate away.

  “You haven’t eaten much. You’re not upset, are you?”

  “No,” he said. “I had a late lunch.”

  “Not something bad for your cholesterol, I hope.”

  “Of course not, Sonja. I had a plate of grass. It was scrumptious.”

  She smiled patiently. “Oh, you had something bad, I can tell. Well, that’s why I go to so much trouble to make sure you eat well in the evening. No matter how you carry on, I know you appreciate that I look after you as well as I can.”

  “Indeed I do. I just wish that occasionally you could look after me with a spice or two. I’d love to taste my food briefly before it passes through my body.”

  “And I’d like you to last,” she said. “Because I love you so.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to last so you have someone to control into old age?” he returned, lifting a graying brow.

  “George! What a thing to say! Just when one of my best friends is going through a terrible divorce!”

  “And getting tested for venereal diseases,” he added. “You’d better rush her over some grains and herbs.”

  Sonja laughed at him. “You love to do that, don’t you? Pick at my remedies. Well, I guess I’m smart enough to know that I don’t have what she needs for something like that—it’s prescription only. I am going over there first thing tomorrow to burn some sage and smudge the air with Indian feathers just to clear out the negative presence.”

  He stood from the table and shook his head. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  * * *

  Gerri ordered a pizza for the kids. Once that was devoured, they headed for their evening pastimes—family-room TV, computers, phones, homework, usually in that order.

  Gerri fixed herself a drink instead of dinner, wondering briefly if Sonja had a herb for homicidal tendencies. She was going to confront Phil, of course. She’d been with the man a long time. She thought there was nothing she didn’t know about him. I’ve been getting fart marks out of his underwear for almost twenty-five years for God’s sake.