The Scarlet Letter Society (18 page)

“Thank you for saying that,” said Lisa, pleased he was even mentioning trying to conceive. “I don’t think you should be ashamed of it,” said Lisa. “I knew about your foot fetish when we started dating years ago. At first, it was a lot of fun…”

“Yeah, and now it’s something that is coming between us and that is not what I want,” said Jim.

“Well, it isn’t as much about the sexual part of it as the expense,” said Lisa. “There are many more things I’d like to do with money than spend it on expensive shoes that I can’t wear to the bakery.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jim. “That’s why I wanted to talk. I just want you to know that I started seeing a therapist in DC to talk about my fetish, and I am working on it. And also, I signed up for some more tests to try to get more information about any fertility issues I might have. I know you’re always working on it and thinking about it,” he gestured toward the calendar, “and I want to feel like I have a part in trying to make our family happen.”

“Wow,” said Lisa. “Thank you. It’s really nice of you do that for me.”

“I honestly just really want you to be happy,” said Jim.

“I want both of us to be happy, too,” said Lisa. “I’m so thankful you decided to bring this up and I appreciate your honesty.”

She walked across to the coffeemaker and kissed her husband. Maybe, for once, they could have unscheduled sex…while she was barefoot.

Eva was sitting at her desk in New York City, working on a case that was scheduled to go to trial the following week, when the call came.

“Eva? It’s Marvin Schubert on Matthews Island.” Marv was the next door neighbor of her parents. He lived in the cottage beside theirs near the waterfront. He had never called her before, and she couldn’t imagine how he had gotten her number.

Eva was immediately concerned. “Hi, Marv…” she began.

“I am so very sorry to have to be the one to deliver this news. There’s been a car accident. Your mother…”

“My mother?” repeated Eva. Her entire body froze.

“I’m afraid she didn’t make it,” said Marv.

“Didn’t make it?” She heard the words coming out of her mouth, repeating him like a parrot, but she didn’t know what she was saying. She couldn’t get her brain around the concept that anything could happen to her mom. She had just left her days before; Mom had waved to her from the front yard of her cottage, like she always did when Eva left. She was
there
. She was always there.

“The accident happened not far from the drawbridge. It wasn’t her fault. A deer ran across the road and she swerved to avoid it… Since I’m a fire company volunteer, I was there to respond to the call from another motorist. She’s been taken to the hospital, but she was pronounced dead at the scene. Someone more official will call you, I’m sure, but I thought…”

“When did it happen? Which way was she traveling? Was she conscious when you got to the scene?” Questions streamed out of Eva as her head spun.

“It was just a few hours ago,” responded Marv. “One of her neighbors said she was headed to her knitting club meeting in St. Luke’s. She died on impact, so she did not suffer. If there is anything else I can…”

“No, thank you for calling, Marv. I’ll be on the next plane to Maryland,” said Eva, and she hung up.

Her body remained completely still, and her eyes shifted to the photos on her desk. There was a photo of her two smiling boys in their lacrosse uniforms one day after a game they’d won, and there was a photo of her mother, sitting in her Adirondack chair in front of the cottage, facing the water. She had her reading glasses on, and you could see newspapers on the ground in front of her. She was smiling up at Eva. The photo was her favorite because it was impromptu and casual.

The photo of her mother triggered a memory for Eva. Her father, coming in late usual, drunk as always. Her mother tried so hard for so long to pretend everything was ok: put a happy face on, and some makeup, and pretend the bad part is not happening.
Just a normal family, nothing to see here, move along
. Like any
codependent person, Joan Bradley had been in complete denial of her husband’s drinking problem. She preferred to live in a world of illusion; smoke and mirrors, because who wanted to see the reality as it truly was? Certainly not her.

Eva pictured her mother at the kitchen stove, cooking a roasted chicken dinner, actually wearing an apron and asking
how was your day, Eva?
even as they could hear her drunken husband stumbling his way through the house, angrily asking if dinner was ready. The stench of stale beer filled her mind and her office. Eva hated beer to this day. She had never seen her father drink a glass of wine or champagne, so somehow, she thought her own drinks of choice meant she was different enough from him. She shook her head and the tears came.

She hadn’t thought about it until now, but as she looked at the photos on her desk, she realized that her husband wasn’t in any of them. Yet she was an only child, so it was her husband she called first, dialing his private cell line that was separate from his work number; the number was basically reserved for family emergencies.
Your emergency contact
, she thought. That’s the person you call when there is an emergency. Even if you couldn’t remember the last time you had dialed their number. Joe answered immediately.

“My mother,” Eva began. It took her a moment to even form the words. “Is dead. She died. In a car accident.”

“Oh, God. I am so sorry, Eva,” said Joe. “What happened? When?”

“She hit a deer on her way to her knitting class a few hours ago,” answered Eva, tears running down her face. “She didn’t suffer. I am taking the next flight home in two hours.”

“Are you ok to travel?” Joe asked.

“I guess so,” she said.

“Let me know what time your plane lands and I’ll pick you up from the airport. Call me when you land. I will speak with the boys.”

“Thank you,” said Eva, and she hung up the phone. And then she screamed, not loudly, but an aching, choked sound, before collapsing onto her desk in wrenching sobs.

Maggie placed the phone receiver down, devastated at her friend’s news, just as Ted walked into her shop. They had plans to go see
Cabaret
, which was playing at the historic downtown theatre Wes managed. It was “vintage movie night.” Ted looked handsome as always. She felt badly going out for a night on the town while Eva was in such a bad place, but Eva had told her they’d get together the next day when Eva was back home.

“What’s wrong?” said Ted. Even though she hadn’t said anything, Ted could see the concern etched on Maggie’s face.

“I just got some really sad news about Eva’s mother,” Maggie said. “She was in a car accident and died.” Maggie thought for a moment about how to this day she didn’t know if her own mother was alive or dead.

She had just left a lunch with Dave, and she was feeling conflicted; a feeling she was growing weary of. She couldn’t understand why she seemed to need so much attention from men (make that “people,” she thought), and it irked her.
Do I really need to have multiple dates with my ex-husband and my lover (um, one of them) in the same day?

Maggie put down her copy of
Madame Bovary
. “And also, I was just reading our Scarlet Letter Society book club book, and I have a feeling things are going to go badly for the heroine somehow.”

“I’ve never read it, so I couldn’t tell you,” said Ted,. “But historically, women adulteresses don’t do very well, do they?”

“Not a bit,” said Maggie. “’Punish the Whore’ is a true literary theme for the ages.”

Maggie picked up her laptop to order flowers to send to Eva’s house. She thought about the irony of how annoyed she had been getting at the female characters in these books, when she wasn’t liking her own choices much better. She could only hope that like Isadora Wing, she’d burn through a bunch of madness and finally work it all out at the end. She sure as shit didn’t want the Karenina kill or the Wifey wimp-out for her own ending.

She realized how ridiculous it was that she felt lonely much of the time. Between her two ex-husbands (though technically she didn’t ever see the most recent ex), her two current lovers and some great girlfriends, she really should have no reason to feel lonely. But the fact of the matter was that most mornings she woke up alone. And for some reason, though going to bed could be lonely, especially if you woke up for some reason in the middle of the night, waking up and drinking coffee or eating breakfast alone was absolutely the loneliest thing in the world.

There was no lonely worse than
coffee lonely
.

“So how are things with your band?” she asked, changing the subject intentionally.

“Really good,” said Ted. “I may have to quit my day job!”

“For real?” said Maggie, genuinely happy. “That would be great.” She loved going out to listen to the band play, and the venues around Baltimore and DC had gotten bigger and bigger. She knew the band’s following had grown online and that Ted was exhausted trying to maintain a “real” 9 to 5 job in addition to writing music and singing for the band.

“Yeah, we’re heading down to Nashville for a week actually to play a few gigs and meet with a record producer there,” said Ted. “Not bad for a bunch of middle age guys everyone expects would be hanging out in local bars playing Jimmy Buffet cover songs by now.”

“Good for you, Ted,” said Maggie. “I’m really happy for you.” She walked over, hugged her handsome lover, and felt a pang of sadness. How much longer would this affair last? She knew he was seeing other women, though it wasn’t something they ever discussed, it was something she suspected. She hadn’t asked because she hadn’t wanted to know the answer.

“So are we ready to go watch Liza Minnelli do some jazz hands?” said Ted. She kissed him, squeezing his hand.

“Hell yeah,” she said. “Let’s go watch some vintage Broadway history while we make out in the back of the theatre.”

He laughed, and they held hands as they walked through the town together.

At the historic Patrick Theatre, Wes greeted them in the lobby.

“Well look what the cat dragged in,” he said.

“Nice to see you, too, Wesley,” said Maggie.

“Hello, there, Ted,” said Wes. “Didn’t know you were a Liza fan.”

“I’m a fan of anything playing here,” said Ted, “and as a musician it’s mandatory I have an appreciation for Judy Garland’s daughter.”

Ted and Maggie walked over to the bar and bought cocktails and candy: a pair of Caramellos.

“These are such a random candy to have,” said Maggie to Wes as she sipped her rum and Coke. “I love Caramellos. And you have Whatchamacallits and Zero bars, too. All my favorites.”

“We try to do a vintage candy thing to match the history of the theatre,” said Wes. “There are all kinds of candies through the ages.” He pointed out the display showing the decades: penny candy from the 20s all the way through the 90s and the 00s.

“This is such a great idea,” said Ted.

“Well, everyone gets sick of Sno-caps and M&Ms at regular movie theatres,” said Wes. “Though we do carry those, it’s fun to pick out candies from the vintage candy companies online. Can’t say I hate the candy buying part of my job.”

“I’m going to run to the ladies’ room,” said Maggie, finishing her drink. “I’ll meet you inside in a sec.”

“Alright,” said Ted. “I’ll pick out great seats.”

And as Maggie walked back out of the ladies’ room, she saw a couple standing at the candy counter, where she had been just moments before. She’d recognize that longish curly hair and that flannel shirt a mile away, with the dressier jeans, not the ones with holes in them. It was Dave. And he was with an absolutely gorgeous woman about ten years younger than they were.