The Year Everything Changed (5 page)

She waited for him to back out of the driveway before she climbed the dozen steps that led to the front door. Digging her key out of her purse, she paused before slipping it into the lock.

Defining moments are discoveries made in hindsight. Rarely is anyone aware when they are in the middle of a situation they know unequivocally will change their life forever. Perhaps it is hope that keeps most people from knowing, a need to believe they can manage a crisis without losing everything that is important to them. Rachel held no such illusions. The minute she walked through the door and confronted Jeff, her life would change. Everything between them that she’d taken for granted would be over.

For one brief, sorrowful moment she considered turning around and walking away. But where would she go, and to what end?

The key heavy in her hand, it took three attempts to slip it into the lock. The door finally open, she took a deep breath and went inside. Jeff met her in the hallway.

“I thought I heard you out here.” He gave her a quick kiss. “You look beat. Rough day?”

She dropped her purse on the hall table, her briefcase on the floor. “Are the kids still up?”

“When you didn’t call I figured you and Connie were going to make a night out of it, so I put them to bed. Cassidy has an early soccer game tomorrow.” He helped her off with her coat and hung it in the closet.

Rachel watched him, trying to see him as a stranger might. At forty-two he still had all his hair, but the black was shot with gray, the mustache even more so. She’d thought him handsome when they first met, but it was his intellect and passion and caring she’d fallen in love with. And his sense of humor. He was the only one she’d ever known who could make her laugh out loud, something neither of them had done enough of for a long time.

“We have to talk,” Rachel said.

“You want me to fix you something to eat first?”

She shook her head.

“Drink?”

“
No
.”

He stopped to look at her. “Sounds serious.”

She’d promised herself she wouldn’t cry. She blinked to clear her eyes, but it didn’t work. Tears spilled over her lashes onto her cheeks. She clenched her jaw and wiped them away.

Jeff didn’t react for several seconds and then, with a sigh, said simply, “You know.”

She nodded.

“How?”

“Connie told me.”

“I thought Connie was your friend.”

“Me, too—something else I was wrong about.”

“I’m sorry.”

“About what?” she challenged.

“Whatever you want. Whatever you need.”

“Bad timing, Jeff.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down at the entrance tile. “Did Connie also tell you that it’s over, that it’s been over for months?”

The question threw her. “Is that supposed to matter?”

“I guess that’s up to you.”

She’d never hit anyone in her life, never understood the need. She did now. “How could you?”

“That’s what you want? A reason?”

“Yeah, sure, lay it on me. And then I want you to tell me how you could have been so goddamned careless that you let yourself get caught.”

He frowned. “I’ve been tearing myself up about what I’ve done to you, what I’ve done to us, and what matters to you is that someone found out?”

“If you’d been a little more discreet, we could have handled it quietly, between us.” Her breath caught in a sob. “We might have worked it out. Now, I have to do something. No one respects a doormat, and if I don’t have the respect of the people who work for me, I can’t do my job. Without my job”—she was feeling her way through a dark tunnel of pain, grasping for handholds to guide her—“we lose everything.” It was a smokescreen, words she could hide behind because the truth left her too exposed. Without Jeff . . . oh, dear God, she couldn’t imagine her life without Jeff.

“I don’t care.”

“Obviously,” she shouted.

He reached for her. She threw her arms up to ward him off. “We don’t need all of this, Rachel. We got along fine on a lot less. We could again.”

“And why would I want to go back there, Jeff? What’s waiting for me? A solid marriage? A man who loves me? A faithful husband?”

“I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but I’m going to say it anyway. I love you, Rachel. I want our marriage to work. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. What I did was stupid, the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I don’t want to lose you. Not over this.”

“Why, Jeff?” she said in a choked whisper. And then, shouting again, “
Why?
 ” If she could understand maybe it would give her something to hold on to. Even alone in the middle of an ocean, the floating seat cushion from a plane brings hope.

“Whatever I say is going to sound self-serving.” He glanced at the stairs. “Do we have to do this here?”

She looked around. “Is one room better than another? Do we have one I don’t know about set aside for dissolving a marriage?”

“I was lonely.” He hesitated. “She needed me. You don’t.”

She felt as if they were in the middle of a bad movie where the wife was being accused and punished for emasculating her husband with her ambition. “That’s bullshit. Of course I need you. I’ve always needed you.”

He ran his hand over his face. “I can’t do this. I can’t defend something that’s indefensible. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. It’s something I’m going to have to live with.”

“How noble.”

“What do you want, Rachel? Name it.”

She was overcome by a crushing wave of sorrow. “Yesterday.”

He put his head back and stared at the ceiling. Tears escaped the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me, too.” She moved around him and headed up the stairs to their bedroom.

He followed, standing at the doorway to watch her as she opened the closet, went inside, and came out seconds later with a suitcase. “Is that for me or you?”

She stopped and frowned. “I don’t know.” She didn’t want to spend the night in a motel, but it didn’t make sense for him to leave. She knew Cassidy had a soccer game, but not where or what time. She counted on Jeff to keep that schedule for her. John had a birthday party on Sunday, but she had no idea if the friend was a girl or boy or whether they still needed to buy a present.

He took the suitcase and put it beside the dresser. “Whatever we decide, it doesn’t have to be tonight.”

Rachel sat on the edge of the bed and covered her face with her hands. “How could you do this to us?” If Jeff was lonely, why hadn’t he said something? She could have taken time off. She could have. . . .

He knelt in front of her and caught her hands before she could pull away. “It was a stupid mistake, Rachel. How can I make you understand that? Sandy was—”

“Sandy?” An insane feeling of relief swept through her. She didn’t know anyone named Sandy. At least it wasn’t a friend, someone she could look back and remember smiling and greeting her at the club or on the tennis court and feel the heat of humiliation that she had been laughing at her behind her back.

“Browning—her daughter was on Cassidy’s soccer team. She moved here to be near her parents when she and her husband separated. I thought I could. . . .” He shrugged. “What I thought isn’t important. The only thing that matters is what I did.”

Rachel freed her hands. “Do you love her?”

“No.”

“Are you still seeing her?”

“Like I said, it’s been over for months. She moved back to Texas four weeks ago. She wanted her daughters to be near their father and to see if there was any chance the two of them could get back together. The separation was hard on the kids.”

He might as well have hit her. “At what point did her children become more important than your own? When did you decide you were willing to sacrifice their home and their happiness to fuck Sandy?”

Jeff sighed in resignation and stood. “I’ll stay in the guest room tonight.”

“Say something that will make me understand. Give me that much.”

“There isn’t anything I can say that’s going to make this any easier, Rachel. I screwed up. Pure and simple.”

“Nice play on words, Jeff.”

“Look—I was lonely. I had no idea how lonely until someone came along who treated me like I mattered. And, yes, I know how lame that sounds, but you wanted the truth and there it is. It just happened. It wasn’t planned. I didn’t set out to seduce Sandy, and she sure as hell didn’t need her life more complicated than it already was.”

“Did you think I would never find out, that you could keep this a secret?”

“I didn’t think anything.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“What do you want me to say? Tell me, I’ll say it.”

“I trusted you. I knew with every fiber of my being that no matter how rough things got between us, we would work them out, that there was no way you would ever be unfaithful to me.” Pain radiated through her chest as if her heart really could break. She needed a release, to run until she stumbled in exhaustion, to cry until there were no more tears. Instead she held on to her veneer of control as if that were a lifeline. “You destroyed something I can’t live without, Jeff.”

“I know you’re not ready to hear this, but if it takes the rest of my life, I’m going to find a way to earn your trust again. I’m not going to let this family fall apart because I did something stupid.”

She looked at him long and hard. “This isn’t about what you want anymore.”

“I—”

She put her hand up to stop him. “No more.”

A light tapping sound on the bedroom door woke Rachel. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand, stunned that she’d actually fallen asleep. It was one-thirty, and she was still in her suit. When she’d curled up and drawn the comforter over her she was sure it would only be for a few minutes.

The door opened. “Rachel?”

She sat up and ran her hand through her hair. “What?”

“Were you asleep?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Jeff came across the room and held out a courier envelope. “This came for you today. It’s from a lawyer in Sacramento. I thought it might be important.”

She took the envelope and put it on the nightstand. Whatever it was could wait. Anything of any importance would have been sent to the office.

Jeff hesitated as if torn between staying and going. Finally, the decision made, he said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

She waited until he was gone before she got out of bed and undressed. She hated Jeff for doing this to her, for becoming what she’d spent their entire marriage convincing herself he wasn’t—a man like every other man she’d ever known.

Chapter Five
Elizabeth

“All I’m saying is that Stephanie is being incredibly selfish and it’s up to you to tell her so. If you don’t, I will.”

Elizabeth’s hand tightened on the telephone receiver. “Please don’t do that, Mother. This is Stephanie’s last summer of freedom, the last time in her life she’ll be completely free of responsibilities. Let her enjoy it.” Several of the girls Stephanie ran around with at Sarah Lawrence had parents with summer homes on Long Island. She’d been asked to stay before; this was the first time she’d accepted.

“No one made you get married at twenty. You could have been just as selfish.”

Where had that come from? “I thought we were talking about Stephanie.”

“I could tell what you were really thinking.” Denise Reed liked to think she knew her daughter and was always telling her how she felt and what she thought and was rarely right about either.

Elizabeth laughed. It was either that or throw something in frustration. “Well, you’re wrong. What I’m really thinking is that I have to get off the phone and finish making breakfast for Sam. I’ll call you back later today.” She wouldn’t. She would wait a couple of days and then call with news about the next book she’d be reading for her book club or something Sam was doing or a piece of gossip about a mutual friend that would derail her mother from going after Stephanie again. Sometimes it worked, more often it didn’t.

“Wait a minute before you hang up,” Denise insisted. “I need a ride to the airport next week.”

She was leaving on a tour of Italy with her best friend, something they’d been planning for over a year. “I thought Mabel was going to pick you up.”

“We had a fight.”

“Don’t you think you ought to try to work things out before you leave? Three weeks is a long time to share a room with someone you’re not talking to.”

“This is none of your business, Elizabeth. Besides, if I wanted your advice, I’d ask. Now, can you do it or not?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.”

Elizabeth said good-bye and put the phone back in its cradle. She’d known it was a mistake to tell her mother that Stephanie had changed her mind about coming home. But the biggest mistake had been made a week ago when she’d shared her excitement over the special plans she’d made for her and Stephanie that summer. Telling her mother something like that was tantamount to giving the neighborhood bully a pellet gun.

Sam called from the top of the stairs. “Have you seen my glasses?”

“Look in your office.” The timer sounded on the bran muffins she’d put in the oven just before her mother called. She tested one with a toothpick and reset the timer for an additional three minutes.

Sam came into the kitchen tucking the fat end of his tie through the loop at his neck. He adjusted the knot and stopped to check his collar in the glass reflection of the Wysocki cat print behind the table. “Who was that on the phone?”

“My mother.”

He extracted the sports section from the newspaper, tossed the rest on the table, and leaned against the counter. “Kind of early for her. What did she want?”

“To tell me how awful Stephanie is.”

“What’s she done this time?”

“She’s not coming home this summer.”

“I thought you weren’t going to tell her about that until she got back from Italy.”

“Yeah, well, you know how that goes. Open mouth, insert foot.” Elizabeth busied herself spooning fruit salad into one of the Jadite bowls she’d found at a garage sale.

Sam refolded the sports section. “I forgot to tell you that Stephanie called me at the office yesterday. She’s out of money again and wanted me to put a thousand dollars in her account—a little spending money to get her through spring break.”

“What did you tell her?” She didn’t have to ask, she knew.

“That if she wanted spending money, she’d better find a job. That’s what her brothers did.”

For three years they’d engaged in a running battle over Stephanie’s careless spending since she’d gone away to college and how much more responsible Eric and Michael had been. Sam insisted the only way she would ever learn to budget was to do without when the money they gave her each month was gone—even if the thing she had to do without was food. Elizabeth refused to let Stephanie go hungry to prove a point. “I’m assuming she talked you into
something
?”

Sam peered at Elizabeth over the top of the newspaper. “Do you have any idea how much spending money she’s gone through this year?”

He worried that Stephanie would never be independent while Elizabeth’s heart ached with every step she took away from them. “It’s not like we can’t afford it or that it’s going to go on forever. She’ll be out of school in a year and earning her own money.”

“We can only hope.”

“That’s not fair.” The timer went off. She nudged him aside to take the muffins out of the oven.

“You’re trying too hard, Lizzy.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She turned the muffin tin over and tapped the corner against the granite countertop. The muffins tumbled onto a cooling rack.

“To not be your mother. You want to give Stephanie everything Denise didn’t give you. You need to find a place in the middle.”

“This has nothing to do with my mother.”

“It has everything to do with her. It always does.” He reached for Elizabeth and pulled her into his arms. She came, reluctantly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t say it to hurt you. But it’s true. You spend five minutes on the phone with Denise and she’s ruined your entire day. She has too much power over you.” He blew on her forehead to move the hair aside before planting a kiss. “You know your mother hates Stephanie. She always has. Nothing would make her happier than to drive a wedge between you.”

“She doesn’t hate her.” Elizabeth didn’t want to believe her mother was capable of hating her own granddaughter.

“All right, maybe hate is too strong. But she sure doesn’t like her.”

“It’s just the way she is. She shows her love differently than other people.”

“I’ll say.”

She shot him a withering look.

“Okay, she stuck around when your dad didn’t. I’ll give her that.” Sam started to add something, then let it go. Changing the subject to something safer, he said, “Don’t forget, I’m going to be late tonight.”

She had. “How late?”

“Steve seems to think we can wrap up the meeting by seven. I’m figuring we’ll be lucky to get out of there by nine.”

For the first five years after Sam bought his original tire store in Fresno she’d managed their bills like a Cirque du Soleil juggler. The second five years they’d scrimped to cover opening six more stores. Now, with seventeen in the chain, their financial concerns centered on paying taxes on what they earned. Stephanie might not know exactly how much money they had, but she knew it was a lot. “What about dinner?”

“I’ll have Janet send out for something.”

“Not pizza.” His cholesterol had risen fifteen points, and the doctor had warned him he needed to control it with either diet and exercise or medication.

“Not pizza,” he echoed, reaching around her to take a cup from the cupboard. “Back to Stephanie—”

“Can we do this later?”

“All I was going to say is that when she calls you to plead her case you can tell her that you talked me into matching funds. Whatever she earns—up to a grand—we’ll kick in an equal amount.”

Elizabeth smiled. “That’s fair.”

“It’s more than fair, but she’s not going to think so.” He poured his coffee. “Did you tell her how much you were counting on having her home this summer?”

“No. What’s the point? She’s not going to change her mind, and it would only sound like I was trying to lay a guilt trip on her.” Elizabeth put a muffin on a plate and handed it to him. She and Stephanie used to be so close. What happened that turned hour-long phone calls four or five times a week into a rushed five minutes between classes? “You’re going to be late.”

He set the plate on the counter. “Just tell her how you feel. I’m sure—”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I want her to come home because she wants to, not out of a sense of obligation.” Most of all, Elizabeth didn’t want to spend the summer being reminded of how much fun Stephanie was missing with her friends. For all of her wonderful qualities, Stephanie wasn’t hesitant to express her unhappiness when things didn’t go her way. Reluctantly, Elizabeth had finally acknowledged what Sam had been saying for years. Elizabeth was spoiled. And not the self-aware kind that came with appreciation for all she had and all she was given, but the kind of spoiled that led to a sense of entitlement that came across as more arrogant and demanding than grateful.

“What difference does it make how she gets here as long as she’s here?”

“Can we just drop this? Please?”

“If that’s what you really want.”

“It is.”

He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to get going. Steve’s car is in the shop, and I told him I’d give him a lift.” Sam snatched a muffin as he leaned over to kiss her. “Why don’t you do something fun today? Go shopping. Call Kathy and see if she’s free for lunch.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“At least get out of the house.”

“I am getting out of the house. I have a library meeting this afternoon.”

He stuffed a banana into his pocket to go with the muffin. “If we’re going to have the summer to ourselves, let’s do something. Just the two of us. What about a cruise?” When she didn’t respond, he tried again. “Okay, how’s this? Since Stephanie doesn’t want to come home to see us, we’ll go to Long Island to see her. We could take in a couple of plays in the city, pop up to Boston for a little history. We could even stop by to see the boys on the way home.”

“She didn’t say she didn’t
want
to come home.” She followed him outside.

“Just that she got a better offer.”

“Nice, Sam. Just what I needed.”

He made a face. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“Big time.”

“Sorry.”

“Drive carefully.” She gave him a dismissive wave.

Their normal routine was that he told her he would, she watched as he got in the car, waved good-bye when he reached the end of the driveway, and went back inside when he turned the corner. Today he tossed his briefcase into the passenger seat and came back to take her in his arms. “If Stephanie knew how much this meant to you, she’d be here.”

“I’ll be all right,” she said, relenting enough to put her arms around him. “I just need a little time to get used to the idea.”

“I know.” He kissed the frown line between her eyebrows. “But that’s tomorrow. Today is the shits and I’m sorry.”

Not exactly what she needed, but enough to make her feel a little less alone. “Maybe something will happen and she’ll decide to come home after all.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” he said.

“No, your line is to tell me to go shopping and buy myself something I don’t need.”

“Ouch.” He let her go and went to the car without saying anything more.

Her guilt set in before Sam reached the end of the driveway. She would call later and apologize.

Before she went back inside, Elizabeth took a minute to glance around the yard, noting the impatiens that were thriving and the ones the snails had decimated. She checked the roses for aphids and the flower beds for weeds, the spent tulips and daffodils that needed attention and the dead branch on the birch tree. She’d gone through three gardeners in a year, each one younger and less reliable than the one before.

Complaining about laziness and lack of pride in the younger generation made her sound older than the forty-eight she reluctantly admitted to, so she rarely said anything aloud. But she thought about it a lot. At times the sense of separation she felt around her own children and their friends in ideals and standards and goals left her speechless.

Drawn by the parched look of one of the lilacs near the bird feeder, Elizabeth crossed the lawn to check the sprinkler. She was still working out the problems in the drip system Sam had installed the year before to conserve water. When they’d built the house twenty years ago Sam had designed a simple landscape for the near-acre-size lot, one that he could take care of on Saturdays with a gas edger and riding mower. Over the years she’d added shrubs and flowers, while Sam added a pool and built-in barbecue. Their yard became the showcase of the neighborhood, featured in the garden section of the
Fresno Bee
twice and visited by garden clubs every spring, and every year it became more labor-intensive.

The work hadn’t mattered so much when the kids were home, when there were weekend parties and friends to enjoy and appreciate her efforts. Now, with the occasional exception of a barbecue for friends or the employees at one of the tire stores, it was she and Sam sitting outside on Sunday morning drinking coffee and reading the newspaper.

She’d given “retirement” three years, and it was driving her nuts. If she didn’t find something, if she couldn’t come up with a new reason for getting up every morning, she was going to go out of her mind. And take Sam with her. She knew her moods were wearing on him, and she tried to stay upbeat for his sake, but it was hard to be bouncy in lead shoes.

Elizabeth bent to check the soil around the lilac. It was dry and rock-hard. She broke off a leaf and rolled it between her finger and thumb. There was still enough moisture to save the plant with a couple of deep waterings. As she headed for the hose, she saw a Federal Express truck stop in front of the house. Seconds later a young man sprinted up the driveway, a clipboard in one hand, an overnight envelope in the other.

Elizabeth motioned to him. “Over here.”

He smiled and crossed the lawn to meet her. “Great yard,” he said.

“Thanks.” Assuming the letter was for Sam, she was surprised when she spotted her name. She looked closer. It was from a law office in Sacramento. She didn’t know anyone in Sacramento. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been there.

He handed her the clipboard and pointed to the signature line. “Sign there, please.”

She did, her curiosity growing.

She waited until the truck was gone before she looked inside and found two business-size envelopes, one unaddressed with a travel agency logo in the corner, the other from the law office and addressed to her.