Melanie Gideon - Wife 22

“Why do you want to get married now? You’ve been together thirteen years. You never wanted to get married before. What’s changed?”

Nedra shrugs. “I’m not sure. We just woke up one morning and solidifying our relationship felt right. It’s the strangest thing. I don’t know if it’s my age or something-the big five-oh looming. But suddenly I want tradition.”

“The big five-oh is not looming. You won’t be fifty for another nine years. Besides, things are great with you and Kate. If you get married you’ll be all screwed up like the rest of us.”

“Does this mean you don’t want to be my maid of honor?”

“You’re going to do the whole thing? Bridesmaids, too?” I say.

“You and William are screwed up? Since when?”

“We’re not screwed up. We’re just-distant. It’s been incredibly stressful. Him losing his job.”

“Mmm. Can I try that one?” Nedra asks the saleswoman, gesturing to a marquise-cut diamond ring.

She puts it on her finger, extends her arm, and admires her hand.

“It’s a bit Cinderella-ey, but I like it. The question is, will Kate? Alice, you’re in a rather bad mood today. Let’s forget we ever had this conversation. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to call you tomorrow. You’re going to say, ‘Hello, Nedra, what’s new?’ I’m going to say, ‘I have news; I’ve asked Kate to marry me!’ You’re going to say, ‘Goodness-about time! When can we go out shopping for dresses? And can I accompany you to the cake tasting?’ ” Nedra hands the ring back to the saleswoman. “Too flashy. I need something more subtle. I’m a divorce lawyer.”

“Yes, and it would look unseemly for her wife to be sporting a two-carat diamond engagement ring. Bought on the proceeds of other people’s failed marriages,” I say.

Nedra gives me a dirty look.

“Sorry,” I say.

“Look, Alice, it’s as simple as this. I’ve found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. And she’s passed the spectacular test.”

“The spectacular test?”

“When I first met Kate she was spectacular. And a decade later she is still the most spectacular woman I’ve ever known. Besides you, of course. Don’t you feel that way about William?”

I want to feel that way about William.

“Well, why shouldn’t I have what you have?” Nedra asks.

“You should. Of course you should. It’s just that everything in your life is changing so fast. I can’t keep up. And now you’re getting married.”

“Alice.” Nedra puts her arm around me. “This isn’t going to change anything between us. We’ll always be best friends. I hate married people who say ridiculous things like ‘I married my best friend.’ Is there any clearer path to a sexless marriage? That won’t be me. I am marrying my lover.”

“I’m so happy for you,” I squeak. “And your lu-va. It’s just super-terrific news.”

Nedra frowns. “Things will get better with William. You’re just going through a rough patch. Ride it out, darling. Good things are ahead. I promise you. Let me ask you something. Why don’t you want to be my maid of honor? Is it the word maid you object to?”

No. I have absolutely no problem with maid . It’s the word honor . Honor is something I said goodbye to in my last two chats with Researcher 101.

“May I see the emerald ring?” asks Nedra.

“Lovely choice. Emeralds are a symbol of hope and faith,” says the saleswoman, handing her the ring.

“Ah-” says Nedra. “It’s bloody gorgeous. Here, Alice, try it on.”

She slides the ring onto my finger.

“That looks stunning on you,” says the saleswoman.

“What do you think?” Nedra asks.

I think the gleaming green stone looks like it was flown by hot-air balloon directly from Oz to Oakland, and it’s the perfect symbol of Nedra’s sparkling life.

“Spectacular Kate will love it,” I sniff.

“But do you love it?” asks Nedra.

“Why does it matter if I love it?”

Nedra pulls the ring off my finger and hands it back to the saleswoman with a sigh.

Watching my best friend read my private emails and Facebook chats is not typically an activity I indulge in. But for the last half hour, that’s precisely what I’ve been doing. I’ve finally confided in Nedra about Researcher 101 and judging by the look of contempt on her face, I’m starting to think this was a very bad idea.

Nedra flings my cellphone across the kitchen table.

“I can’t believe you.”

“What?”

“What the hell are you doing, Alice?”

“I can’t help it. You read them. Our chats are like a drug. I’m addicted.”

“He is witty, I’ll give him that, but you’re married! Married as in ‘I will love you and only you until the end of my days.’ ”

“I know. I’m a terrible wife. That’s why I told you. You have to tell me what to do.”

“Well, that’s easy. You have to sever all ties with him. Nothing’s happened yet. You haven’t crossed any line except in your mind. Just stop chatting with him.”

“I can’t just stop,” I say, horrified. “He’ll worry. He’ll think something’s happened to me.”

“Something has happened to you. You’ve come to your senses, Alice. Right now. Today.”

“I don’t think I can do that. Just quit the study without saying anything.”

“You must,” says Nedra. “Now, I’m not a prude, you know that. I think a little bit of flirting is good for a marriage, as long as you redirect that sexual energy back into your relationship, but you’ve gone way beyond the flirting stage.”

She picks up my phone and scrolls through my chats. “ ‘A war in which one side of him thinks he may be crossing a line, and the other side of him thinks it’s a line that was begging to be crossed.’ Alice, this isn’t innocent anymore.”

Hearing her read Researcher 101’s words out loud makes me shudder-

in a good way. And although I know Nedra is absolutely right, I also know I’m not capable of letting him go. At least not yet. Not without a proper goodbye. Or finding out his intentions-if he has intentions, that is.

“You’re right,” I lie. “You’re absolutely right.”

“Good,” says Nedra, softening. “So you’ll stop chatting with him? You’ll quit the study?”

“Yes,” I say, my eyes filling with tears.

“Oh, Alice, come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“It’s just that I was lonely. I didn’t realize how lonely I was until we started emailing. He listens to me. He asks me things. Important things, and what I say matters,” I say, suddenly sobbing.

Nedra reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Darling, here are the facts. Yes, William is an idiot sometimes. Yes, he’s flawed. Yes, the two of you may be going through a dry spell. But this-” she picks up my phone and shakes it. “This isn’t real. You know that, don’t you?”

I nod.

“So do you want me to refer you to a great couples counselor? She’s wonderful. She’s actually helped some of my clients get back together.”

“You send your clients to a couples counselor?”

“When I think there’s something worth saving, yes.”

Later that afternoon, when I’m sitting in the school bleachers pretending I’m watching Zoe play volleyball (every five minutes I shout out “Go Trojans,” and she glances up in the bleachers and gives me a withering look), I think about William and me. Some of the blame for my emotional straying has to fall on him; his being so uncommunicative. I want to be with somebody who listens to me. Who says, Start from the beginning, tell me everything, and don’t leave out a thing.

“Hi, Alice.” Jude plops down beside me. “Zo’s playing well.”