Lisa gave Erich his freedom, and he took it, vanishing to Europe and Asia and who knew what other countries.
For a few years, she tried to pass on the news of their father’s important life to her children, but when it became obvious that Erich had no time for any kind of relationship with his children, she stopped trying. She was hurt that Erich had no interest in his children, their children, but more than that, worst of all, it broke her heart for Juliet and Theo to have no father in their lives. In an emergency, of course, she could always call on her mother and father, but that wasn’t really the same. She faithfully attended ballet recitals, swim meets, school plays, soccer games. She called every Saturday night “Movie Night,” and ate pizza with them while they watched Shrek or Stuart Little or Harry Potter movies. She traveled off-island with them to Boston to see The Nutcracker at Christmas, and several times she took them to New York to see a Broadway show and the Guggenheim (they’d loved the spiral ramp) and the Empire State Building. They spent Christmas and Thanksgiving and the children’s birthdays with her parents, and Juliet and Theo seemed happy, or at least not emotionally ruined by the lack of an attentive father.
It was Lisa who was emotionally ruined. In the very beginning of the divorce, she was too busy to face the pain and humiliation that lay in her heart. As time passed, and the children seemed cheerful and stable, as she painted Juliet’s bedroom lavender and papered Theo’s room with Luke Skywalker and Chewbacca, her own feelings began to emerge, slowly, insistently, and then all in a rush, suddenly, like water bursting a dam.
She had not been enough. She hadn’t been beautiful enough or exciting enough or cosmopolitan at all. She’d never thoroughly mastered French, she could never in a million years look like Audrey Hepburn, and after she had kids, she’d missed as many social events as she could, wanting simply to be at home.
What had she been thinking to marry Erich? What had possessed him to marry her? She’d been sure she’d loved him, and certain that he’d loved her. Brilliant Erich didn’t make a mistake in choosing her…she’d simply been less than he thought she was.
Revelation after revelation bloomed from her heart like storm clouds, darkening her view. She was short—well, five foot five. She could pinch more than an inch of fat. She was smart, but not smart enough, not driven—when she resigned from the National Museum of Women in the Arts, Karen Weninger took her place and within a year published an entire book on Mary Cassatt.
And more, and worse, while she’d been married to Erich, some of her close hometown friends had moved away. Rachel, her best friend forever, was still on the island, and even though she worked with her husband in a local legal firm, she always had time to talk to Lisa. Often they went out for a girls-only drinks and dinner.
Her parents still loved her, and thank God for them. More important, they doted on their grandchildren and often asked one or both of them to come for the weekend, staying overnight. Lisa knew her parents expected her to get out there, to go to parties and really anywhere that single men might be.
She couldn’t do it. Even the thought of flirting with a man was terrifying. She spent her free nights alone in her house with a romantic comedy on the television and a bowl of popcorn in her lap. And she knew very well that the salt on the popcorn would make her bloated, but she ate it anyway, defiantly.
“You’re getting fat,” Rachel said, one evening when she forced Lisa to join her for dinner at a quiet restaurant.
“Thanks. Thanks very much.” Lisa thought she’d hidden her weight beneath a loose summer dress, but Rachel had been her best friend forever. There was very little she could hide from Rachel.
“Stop it. I’m not trying to insult you. I’m worried about you, Lisa.” The waiter approached. Lisa waved him away. “It’s been what, two years now, and your social life is limited to your parents, your children, and me.”
Lisa lifted her chin defiantly. “I’m content with that.”
“No, you’re not. I think you’re afraid.”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” Lisa shot back. She concentrated on stirring her cocktail with its small ridiculous umbrella. “I’ve been dumped, completely. My ex-husband doesn’t even want to see our children—as if they have no worth to him.” Tears welled in Lisa’s eyes, so she picked up her cocktail, removed the damn umbrella, and tossed the whole drink down her throat. “I know I don’t.”
“Oh, dear Lord, we’ve been over this a hundred thousand times. Erich’s an asshole. He’s a narcissist, he’s not capable of loving.”
“He was very—” Lisa began.
Rachel interrupted. “He was a con man. He thought he could make you his puppet, and when that didn’t work, he dismissed you and went on to another act. But, Lisa, you are more than what Erich thought of you. So much more.” Rachel reached over and took Lisa’s hand. “Honey, so many of your friends want to see you. I know you’ve been invited to join book clubs, and you should, and you should also show up at parties. Summer’s almost here. Think of the beach parties we’ll have.”
Sulkily, Lisa said, “I can’t go to a party alone.”
Rachel lost her patience. “Oh for God’s sake.” She dropped Lisa’s hand. “Of course you can. Or go with Buddy and me. You’ve got to start dating again.”
Lisa shook her head. “I’m not ready to date.”
“It’s been two years.”
“I’m not ready.”
“You should see a therapist. Even take anti-depressants. You’re so gloomy, you’re depressing me.”
Lisa lost her temper. “Rachel, you’re a good friend to put up with me. But you need to stop this. Please believe me, I have no interest in men. None.” She didn’t share her deepest thought, her greatest fear: that no one would be interested in her.
“All right, then,” Rachel said. “At least get a job.”
* * *
—
There are times in our lives when we would simply sink beneath the waves of our sorrows, the tides of our fears, and drown in our own misery, if it weren’t for our friends. Later, Lisa would realize just how amazing Rachel had been, what a loyal, generous, loving friend, to stick with Lisa when she was in her most unattractive and pathetic moods, to coax her back out of the bleak cave of her darkness into the light.
Lisa owned her home free and clear, and Erich’s child support paid for the necessities, so Lisa didn’t need to work, and she knew that in this she was fortunate. But she also realized what Rachel had said was right: She needed to get a job.
Nantucket had several fine art galleries, and the Nantucket Whaling Museum and the Atheneum had some valuable paintings, but Lisa felt sad when she remembered her days at the women’s museum in Washington. She’d been happy there, and optimistic, young and part of the world.