"Let me make sure I understand this correctly. " She was speaking slowly, as though she thought hed gone brain-dead. "You have accepted a job without consulting me, accepted use of a corporate apartment Ive never seen, arranged for us to move across the country, and, as the cherry on top of this sundae, I get to close up the house by myself. "
She made it sound so bad. It hadnt seemed that way to him. Hell, theyd done it this way lots of times. "Well give it a few years. If we dont like it, we can always come back. "
She walked toward the window.
He came up behind her, placed his hands on her tensed shoulders, and kissed the back of her neck. "We were happy in New York, remember?"
"No," she said, "I do not remember being happy in New York. "
He shouldnt have said that. Bringing up the past was a bad call. "Well be happy this time. "
"Will we?" There was a wistful quality to her voice that matched his own deep longings. A subtle hope that a new location could return an old emotion.
"Its closer to the girls," he reminded her, knowing it was his best argument. "You could take the train down to see them anytime you wanted. "
"Thats true. "
"Trust me, Birdie, itll be good for us. "
"Im sure youre right," she said at last, not leaning back against him the way she once would have. She stepped aside. "I guess Ill need to get started. There are a million things to do. Well have to call the kids. Ill call the movers tomorrow. . . . " Stress made the beautiful southern lilt in her voice more pronounced.
"Well be happy," he said again. "Youll see. "
She sighed heavily. "Of course we will. "
For the whole weekend, Elizabeth felt like a death-row inmate with a Monday morning execution date.
Jack, on the other hand, was like a kid at Christmas, so excited that sometimes he broke into laughter for no reason at all. This job represented everything hed ever wanted.
There was no way Elizabeth could raise her hand, clear her throat, and say, I dont want to go.
There was no reason for them not to go. He was right about that. And it was an adventure.
It was simply someone elses adventure; Elizabeth was just along for the ride. A companion fare. Buy one get one free.
On this Sunday night, their last together for several weeks, she found herself edging toward depression. Everywhere she looked, she saw something that mattered to her, something she hated to leave behind. This house meant so much to her, more than she could quite express or understand. The thought of leaving it made her sick to her stomach.
After waking up every morning for two years to a picture-postcard view of the Pacific Ocean, how could she waken, go to her window, and see the building across the street? How could she live without seeing the stars at night, or hearing the roar of the sea on a winters day? How could she live in a place that was never quiet, where millions of people lived stacked to the sky?
Unfortunately, she had no other option. She was Jacks wife.
On their last night together, she set the table with care, using her best dishes and silverware. For dinner, she served Coquilles Saint-Jacques on the translucent Haviland china that had belonged to her great-grandmother.
As she and Jack sat across the table from each other, it seemed that miles separated them. They were like some sad scene in a foreign film, a tableau of marital regret, people who had come together in love long ago and become this . . . pale shadows of who theyd once been and paler illustrations of who they wanted to be.
He cocked his head to the left, his fork poised in midair. She knew he was listening to the television in the living room. Howie Long was pitching phones for Radio Shack.
"Maybe someday youll get to do an idiotic TV commercial, too. "
He grinned. "Wouldnt that be great?"
She wanted to smack him. "Yeah, great. "
"So, what will you do in New York?"
Nice of you to finally ask. She forced the thought aside and said instead, "I dont know. I
would have said gardening, but there isnt a lot of that in the city. "