Douglas Kennedy - The Pursuit of Happiness

'I want some answers first'.

'You'll get them', he said, handing the porter a tip.

We found our seats. As soon as the train pulled out of the station, Jack suggested we go to the dining car for breakfast. We ordered coffee. Jack made small talk - breezily asking me about the past six days, what movies I'd seen, how my work was going, and did I really think that Stevenson had a chance against Ike if (as expected) they did go head to head in the '52 election. Eventually, I cut him off.

'What the hell has you so happy this morning?'

'Oh, this and that', he said, still sounding far too cheerful.

'Are you going to explain to me why you vanished for six days?'

'Yes, I will'.

The coffee arrived. We fell silent until the waiter left.

'Well, go on then', I said.

The requisite cigarette was placed between his lips. After lighting it, he glanced around the car, noting that there wasn't anyone sitting directly next to us. Then he leaned forward and said, 'I told her'.

This took a moment to register.

'What did you just say?' I asked.

'I told her'.

'You told Dorothy... ?'

'Yes. I told Dorothy'.

My shock was deepening.

'What exactly did you say?'

'I told her everything'.

'Everything?'

'Yes', he said. 'Everything'.

Five

THE TRAIN WAS just emerging into New Jersey when I was able to speak again.

'When did you tell her?' I whispered.

'The night I got back from Albany with you'.

'How did you explain...'

'I gave her the whole story. How we met after I came back to the States in forty-five. How I knew instantly that you were...'

He stopped and took a deep drag on his cigarette. After a moment or two he started talking again.

'Dorothy is no fool. She got the entire gist of the story immediately. Then she said, "So you're going to leave us?" I said no, I wouldn't leave, because I had made a commitment... taken a vow... to her. And, of course, because we had Charlie. But I wouldn't give you up either. Of course, if she now wanted me to leave, I'd go. But it would have to be her choice, her decision'.

'So she threw you out?'

'No. She told me she needed time to think. And she made me promise not to contact you until she had considered all this. Which is why you didn't hear from me for nearly a week. I respected her wishes - even though she froze me out for five straight days. Then, last night, she finally spoke to me.

'"I don't have much choice in the matter," she said. "But understand this: I never want to know. As far as I'm concerned, you're on the road a couple of days a week. You are out of town. But when you're home with Charlie and me, you're completely with us'."

I finally spoke again. 'Of course she has a choice. She could throw you out. If I was in her position, I would. In a heartbeat'.

'Yeah - I probably deserve that'.

I put down my coffee cup. I leaned forward and spoke quietly. 'You don't really think that, Jack. I mean, you should have seen your face ten minutes ago when you saw me walking down the platform. You looked like the cat who'd gotten the cream. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. Now, of course, I know exactly why you're so damn happy. What a fantastic position for a guy like you to be in: the loyal little wife at home with the baby... and then, there's the other woman, to whom the loyal little wife has suddenly decided to turn a blind eye, on the proviso that she's never referred to as anything but out of town. In fact, here's a thought: why don't you stop using my real name and start calling me by my new acronym: O.O.T... out of town'.

'I thought you'd be pleased with this news'.

'Of course you'd think that. After all, you're the one who's suddenly been transformed overnight from a guilt-laden Catholic to a happily polygamous Mormon. Because your poor wife has given you the license to have it your own damn way'.

'I am not being smug'.

'No - you're just totally pleased with yourself. Why shouldn't you be? You've confessed, you've been absolved. And now you can screw me two or three times a week, then waltz back home with a bouquet of roses, feeling irreproachable...'

'Shhh...' he said, nervously looking around the dining car.

'Never tell me to shut up', I said, standing up.

'Where are you going?'

'Leaving'.

He was on his feet. 'What do you mean, leaving?'

I stormed off down the corridor. Jack threw some money down on the table, and chased after me. He caught me between coaches. I shrugged him off.

'I don't get this', he said, yelling above the roar of the wheels.

'Of course you don't. That's because you never think about other people's feelings...'

'I told Dorothy because I couldn't lie...'

'No - you told Dorothy because you needed her to absorb the remorse that you felt about cheating on her. You gambled that she wouldn't throw you out. You gambled right. Now you have the ideal arrangement. Except there's one little problem: I want nothing to do with it'.

'If you'd just let me explain...'

'Goodbye', I said.

'What?'

'I'm getting off at Newark'.

I moved into the next car. Jack followed me. 'Don't get off the train', he said.

'I won't be part of an arrangement'.

'It is not an "arrangement"'.

'Well, it sure as hell looks like that to me. Now if you'll excuse me...'

'Darling...' he said, lightly touching my shoulder.

'Get off!' I barked. Suddenly all eyes in the carriage were on us. I blushed deeply. Jack turned white.

'Fine, fine', he whispered. 'Have it your way'.

With that, he turned and went back towards the dining car.

With my gaze firmly fixed on the ground - to avoid seeing the disapproving glances of my fellow passengers - I slunk back to my seat. I sat down. I stared out the window, feeling the sort of jumpy after-shock that always accompanies an exchange of words. A few moments later, a conductor wandered down the aisle, shouting, 'Newark. Next stop, Newark'.

I was about to stand up and grab my suitcase and typewriter. I didn't move. The train shunted into Newark. I remained seated. After a few minutes, the conductor blew his whistle, and we continued our journey south.

Around half an hour later, Jack came walking down the aisle. He did a double-take when he saw me. But he did not smile.

'You're still here', he said, sitting down opposite me.

'Clearly', I said.

'I'm surprised'.

'So am I'.

'What made you change your mind?'

'Who said I've changed my mind?' I said. 'I might still get off at Philadelphia'.

'That's your choice, Sara. Just like it's also your choice whether...'

'I will not be cast in the role of the other woman'.

'But that is exactly why I told her', he whispered. 'That's why I admitted to her that I loved you. Because I didn't want you to be forced into that mistress role. Because Dorothy had to know - no matter how painful it was - that I was in love with you. Because that, in turn, gave her some options - like throwing me out, if she wanted to'.

'Weren't you disappointed when she foolishly decided to keep you?'

'On one level, yes... I was disappointed. Because it would have freed me to be with you all the time. But it would have distressed the hell out of me as well. Because of Charlie, and because of Dorothy, who is too damn nice to be with a bum like me'.

I sighed loudly.

'I still wish you'd never told her. Because now, every time you're with me, I'll find myself thinking: she knows'.

'All right, now she knows. But it's not as if Dorothy and I were ever the love of each other's life. She wouldn't be with me if it hadn't been for that little accident. She knows that too. So, it's with her that I have the arrangement. Not you. Never you. Believe me: this is all going to work out fine'.