“You don’t look so good,” Meena says.
“I’m pretty sure you didn’t come all this way to tell me I look like shit.”
“No.” She cocks her head and studies me. Doesn’t even try to hide her wince. “I came to take you to book club.”
My snort of laughter is pure reflex. I haven’t been dressed in days and can’t remember the last time I showered. “There is no way I’m going to book club.”
Her eyes land on the empty bottle of wine on the living room cocktail table. One used wineglass sits beside it.
“Why not?” she asks, as if this is a reasonable question.
“Because I practically killed my husband. And I’m in mourning.”
“You did not kill your husband,” Meena says, following me into the kitchen where the sink is filled with more dirty wineglasses. Which I will wash and reuse when I run out. “You had sex with him and then you tried to get him to agree to work on your marriage.”
“While he was either having a heart attack or already dead!” The words reverberate in the silent house.
“You didn’t know that.” She states this as if it’s a fact, but I’m no longer sure what I did and did not know.
“Because I was completely absorbed in myself and what I wanted.”
“It’s not a crime to try to save your marriage.” Her voice and face reflect a quiet certainty I wish I felt. I don’t know whether I was trying to save my marriage or looking for an excuse to end it. If only I had shut up and paid attention, Nate might be alive right now.
“What happened is awful, Judith. But it’s not your fault.”
Tears fall as I stare at her. I want to believe her, but I can’t stop thinking about how angry I was. How ready I was to walk away if he didn’t agree to try harder, to change, to become the person I wanted him to be.
She steps close and puts her arms around me, holding tight while I cry.
“I haven’t even read the book. I haven’t been able to read anything at all.” I say this as if it’s the worst thing that has happened. When everything that’s happened is the worst I’ve ever known.
“You know that doesn’t matter,” Meena says gently. “You’re coming for the company. To be with people who care about you.”
This, of course, is exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid. Because sympathy from strangers is bearable. Sympathy from people who really know you just opens the floodgates.
“What will everyone think if I’m out so soon? Drinking wine and talking about books as if they matter when . . .” I can’t finish the sentence or the thought.
“Assuming you take a shower first, and maybe put on a bit of makeup, all they’ll think is how great it is to see you.”
“But . . .”
“Judith. Honey. You have been through a lot. And I know it has to hurt like hell. But you can’t stay in this house forever.
“We may not have passed the Equal Rights Amendment yet, but we are, fortunately, living in a time when a woman’s life does not end because her husband’s does. No one expects you to climb on a funeral pyre. Or wear black for a year. Or close yourself off from the world.”
Meena places her hands on my shoulders and holds me away from her so that she can look me in the eye. “We don’t have to stay for the whole discussion. I’ll bring you home whenever you want. But I’m not leaving here without you.”
“I can’t,” I say miserably. “I just can’t.” New tears leak out of the corners of my eyes. I no longer know whether they’re for Nate or for me.
“You can.” She pulls me close for one last bracing hug. “We’ll go, we’ll have a glass or two of wine, eat something chocolate, and hear what people thought about the book. Then I’ll bring you home.”
“But I don’t think . . .”
“Fortunately, thinking isn’t required at the moment, either. Come on. You jump in the shower. I’ll lay out something for you to wear.”
Sixteen
Sara
It didn’t take as much convincing as I expected to get Dorothy to come to book club with me. To my knowledge, it’s the first time she’s left the house since Mitch confessed his sins, except for occasional forays to retrieve bits and pieces of his possessions I threw outside.
She hasn’t spoken since we got in the car and is still staring straight ahead, clutching her purse as we pull into the parking lot of Between the Covers. I’m no longer certain that the fact that she agreed to come is a positive sign. It could just be a desperate need to get out of the house for more than five minutes or be around someone who isn’t me.
“Will everyone there know what’s happened with . . . Mitchell?”
I would have thought the theft of her home would trump all else, but this seems to be her greatest fear, that strangers will know what her son has done. My greatest fear is that despite his reprehensible actions, Mitch might somehow end up with our house or manage to force its sale. Until I know what lies ahead, that fear is a mushroom cloud hanging over me.
“Only if you tell them.”
“Not even your boss?” Doubt etches her face and infuses her voice.
“I’ve told Annell some of what’s going on, but no one else is likely to pry. It’s a book club, not an inquisition.”
“Yes, well, I’ve never been to a book club before.” Her voice drops as if even saying “book club” is somehow dangerous, and I have to remind myself that she’s never even read in public. “Is everyone required to speak?”
“No. No one’s going to force you to expound or argue about themes or meanings. But I find hearing what others think and how they reacted to different parts of the book and the characters brings a lot to the reading experience.”
She nods but makes no comment. As we cross the parking lot, her eyes are pinned on the building. Despite the warm yellow light that spills out of the windows, her shoulders are rigid, and her chin is set in its most determined angle. Her pocketbook, which hangs in the crook of one arm, is held tight to her body, as if she’s afraid someone might attempt to take it off her person. Or maybe it’s just an additional protective layer.
At the front door she hesitates, and I have to fight back my huff of impatience. Her son has turned out to be a liar and a cheat and has stolen her home out from under her, and she’s worried about going to a book club?
“There’s absolutely nothing to be afraid of,” I say a little more forcefully than intended. “It’s just a group of nice people who really like books.”