Robin Black - Life Drawing

When Alison’s car pulled up, midafternoon on the second, I waited to see how many women emerged — hoping for one. But the answer was two. There they both were. I didn’t want to see whether Owen hurried from the barn, so I turned my back to the windows and went to work.

Just as I was keeping my word to Owen, I was also keeping my word to Laine, though that too was difficult. I thought of myself now as staggering through the creative process, stumbling through. I continued to paint the boys though I thought the results were awful. And it made me uncomfortable, but I knew that only confirmed much of what Laine had said. I’d grown complacent over time, too willing to rely on what I knew I could do well. It had been years since my own work had really challenged me. And so I continued to slog away at this series of paintings, rarely enjoying it but convinced there must be some benefit to doing so.

I was still in the studio painting, maybe an hour after turning my back on the returning neighbors, when I heard Owen come into the house, and knew immediately that something was wrong. The volume of every motion was wrong, the door slamming, his footfall too rapid, too loud. He appeared just outside my room, his face darkened, not reddened, not flushed, but storm-darkened with emotion. He stood in the doorway staring at me.

“What? What is it?”

“The one thing I asked of you …” He stopped.

“What? What did I do?”

“Really, Gus? You’re going to play dumb?”

“I’m not playing dumb. I have no idea.”

“The one thing I asked you to do was be honest with me. Five years ago. Every minute since. That’s it. Just be fucking straight with me.”

“I don’t …”

“Please. You’ve been mooning after him all along. You’ve been in touch with him. Weeping over his wedding. Exchanging private notes. What the fuck, Gus?”

I didn’t ask him how he knew. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I said. “But really it was … nothing. And you were so upset when Laine came … I didn’t want to upset you more. I just wanted the whole subject gone.”

“Well, guess what, Gus? It isn’t gone. And you’ve really fucking done it this time.”

He slammed out of the room, out of the house. I heard the van start, heard him leave and was up on my feet in a moment, didn’t bother with a coat, barely took the time to slide my feet into boots.

I found Alison in her kitchen, sitting at the table, a cup of tea in front of her. She looked stunned at my having barged into her house. “What the hell was all of that?” I asked. “What was that scene in my living room not even two weeks ago? What is your game, Alison? I can’t believe that you told him,” I said. “Did you think that apology would also cover this ? I can’t believe you would do that to me.”

There was a pause while she took in my presence, my words.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Do you mean Owen? I haven’t told Owen anything. I haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks.”

“Don’t even bother. Please. Spare me.”

“I’m not bothering, Gus. I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I haven’t told Owen a thing.”

“Then how does he know?”

“How does he know what? What?”

“How does he know that I crashed when I heard about Bill’s wedding? That Bill and I exchanged emails? That I still gave a shit? How does he know that? You’re the only person on earth who knows those things.”

Her face changed. She began to look nervous. Her cheeks flushed. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry, Gus. I’m afraid this is my fault.”

“I can’t believe you would do that to me. I trusted you. I was ready to let you off the hook for using my husband as bait for Nora. What was that speech for? What were you doing?”

“I didn’t do this to you. I didn’t mean to. I … I told Nora. Months and months ago. Before her visit. Before I … before she knew Owen. Or you. And then, when she came back, I …”

“You told Nora? Nora ?”

“You have to understand … I was just … We were gossiping on the phone. She hadn’t even met you. We were just gossiping. I didn’t even use your names then. Just the neighbors. And I … I told her. It wasn’t a big thing. It wasn’t …”

“But you told her I emailed Bill. That was later. Nora had already been here. She was already panting after Owen.”

“I … I trusted her. She’s my daughter, Gus. I tell her things. We … we share confidences.”

“Everything? You tell her fucking everything? Of course you do. Because it never once occurs to you that she isn’t some kind of saint. Just like you’ve pretended all this time that she wasn’t trying to wreck my marriage. That little bitch. You say you know her but you still don’t get what kind of selfish, grabbing …”

“Gus, you have to leave. You can’t do this.”

“ I have to leave? I have to leave? Why didn’t you leave? Months ago. When you said you were going to. I have to leave? Fuck you, Alison. You and your hypocritical daughter. Both of you, just fuck you both. You and your so-called friendship and your so-called kindness. And especially your bullshit apology.”

“Please go.”

“She’s upstairs, isn’t she? Or is she out in the barn? My husband’s barn. My barn. Jesus Christ. She told him, Alison. She couldn’t have him for herself, and she fucking told him, just to ruin things for me.”

I was out and heading up the stairs before she could even stand. I found Nora in the upstairs hallway. “You bitch,” I said. “You conniving little cunt.”

She didn’t say a word. I heard Alison coming, felt her hands on my shoulders. “Gus, you have to calm down,” she said.

“No, I do not.” I shook her off. “Jesus fucking Christ. How was I supposed to know you would tell her everything? How was I supposed to know that, Alison? Is that the deal? Mothers tell their daughters everything? Is that some kind of fucking rule? While you encouraged this, this slut to chase after my husband, you gave her the ammunition she needed. And then you act like it’s a part of the birth contract?”

“He was never going to …” Nora stood perfectly still, a statue speaking. “He sent me away.”

“Oh, fuck you, Nora. And thank you for that reassurance. Now that you’ve destroyed my life.”

“I’m sorry. I was … I was so upset and I thought maybe …”

“You thought it might make him leave me. What else did you think? That you deserved him more than I do? That he deserved the truth? Fuck you, Nora.” I turned to Alison. “Could you please explain to your perfect little daughter here that nobody cares what she thought or how she felt? And ask her why she has ruined the lives of two people who never did a thing but welcome her. And then, would you both just leave. Just get the fuck out of our lives!”

Down the stairs, out the door, barely crossing the hill to my own door, my own home, before bursting into sobs.

Owen came back after three in the morning. Eleven long hours later.

I was sitting in the kitchen waiting, hoping, scared to death he would either never appear or return only to pack a bag and leave. But he sat down, across the table from me. Neither of us spoke for some time. The only thing I could think to say was I’m sorry , and the day had left me with an inescapable sense of how paltry an offering that would be.

“I have had some time to calm down,” he finally said. “And I have no idea where this leaves us, Gus. Just no idea. I can’t …”