Jolene slapped him playfully on the arm. “You call staring at me all night courage?” She laughed.
“Yes, you’re really aggressive. I was taking a risk. Besides, you didn’t hesitate when I asked you to lunch.”
“Yes, because it was lunch,” she said. “Lunch is not a date, it’s just two acquaintances catching up. That was your winning move. If you’d asked me to dinner I would have said no.”
Darius clutched his heart like he was hurt.
I’d read somewhere that women who were unhappy in their marriage started noticing the males closest in proximity first—a friend’s husband, a personal trainer, a coworker. When their happiness failed, they fixated on the good qualities of other men, weighing the option that someone else could better meet their needs. During the hard times with George, I fixated on the FedEx guy, a muscular Topher Grace lookalike who always made small talk as I signed for my packages. He never wore a wedding band, and I always fantasized that he would ask me out for coffee one day. We’d meet up at Tin Pin and laugh about how slutty the girls dressed, averting our eyes, and also only having eyes for each other. I found out that his name was Tom, and I noticed that he always stepped aside on the sidewalk to let women pass. A real gentleman. And when he spoke to me he looked me in the eyes, something George hadn’t done in years. Then one day he stopped delivering my packages and was replaced by a dikey middle-aged blonde named Fern. After Tom it was a guy from the gym. We never spoke, but I could feel the tension from across the room as he ran six miles a day on the treadmill. He was as into me as I was into him. I started calling him gym husband in my head. One day I imagined we’d reach for the sani spray at the same time, and we’d laugh and start up a conversation. I’d leave George for him, and though it would be messy, in the end it would all be worth it.
“Fig?”
“What…? Huh?”
They were both looking at me. My bad. I needed to be more alert.
“Dinner,” Jolene said. “It’s ready.”
I followed them into the kitchen.
Tessa arrived with swollen eyes and a hopeful smile plastered to her face. It hurt my heart to know what he’d done to her. And for what? Some slut who hadn’t weathered the storms of life with him like Tessa had? Where was the loyalty? Where were the vows? We’d stalked the little slut online, traded pictures back and forth saying the things that always came with cheating: How could he? And, she’s not even as pretty as you. Do you think he’s bored with me? No, he’s just a pig. Men do these things because it makes them feel big.
I hated him, but I couldn’t say too much. I was careful.
“You’ve lost so much weight!” she said, once we were in the car. “You look great, Figgy.”
I wanted to tell her that she had too, but it seemed more like a reminder than a compliment, so I kept my mouth shut.
“Will I get to meet your new friends? The neighbors you keep talking about?”
“Yes! They want to meet you too,” I told her. I reached out and squeezed her knee. “Whatever you want to do. I want you to see my city. I thought maybe dinner in the Space Needle.”
She nodded. “I’d love that.”
Despite our plans for fun, Tessa spent most of the next three days on the phone with Mike, the big, fat cheater. On the first night I think she woke up half the neighborhood with her screaming. I stumbled out of bed, glancing at the clock. It was three AM. I found her in the living room, pacing around like a wild woman, a bottle of vodka in her hand. I spent the next two hours consoling her on the couch, while she cried into my lap saying how much she loved him. The future was sealed: my sister would return to the cheater. A woman’s heart was an awful curse. She’d take him back, but probably remind him of his failure for the rest of his life. That was the nature of forgiveness. It came with a price.
“I know how you feel about George,” she said softly, as I stroked her hair. “I’ve felt it myself with Mike—the frustration and desperation. But, it’s not that easy to leave. You can’t judge me. George may not have cheated, but you know it’s hard to leave, no matter what.”
I nodded and squeezed her harder, but I didn’t agree. George had felt like prison right from the start. I made the best of it, but desperately wanted a way out. Tessa had a clear-cut path to freedom. People would judge her less harshly if she left her cheating husband. It was never that easy for me. The situation with George had been—was—different. He was dead inside, but he’d never really done anything wrong.
On her last night I kept my promise and took her to the Space Needle for dinner. For once her phone was away and she was smiling. Mike had sent flowers to the house that morning, two-dozen red roses. Once she saw them, the watery look in her eyes disappeared and she had a new resolve about her. We wandered around the large gift shop before it was our time to ride the elevator upstairs, touching sweatshirts, and shaking snow globes, laughing and being sisters. Tessa saw me eyeing the metal replica of the Space Needle that I’d seen in Jolene’s house.