Douglas Kennedy - Five Days

‘So when are you going to ask Ben if he and some friends would like to do the work?’ Lisa Schneider asked me in one of our sessions around that time.

‘When I get the courage up to tell Dan I’m moving out.’

‘And what’s stopping you, especially now that Sally’s finished school?’

‘Fear.’

‘Of what?’ she asked.

‘Of hurting him.’

‘He may be hurt—’

‘He will be hurt.’

‘Nonetheless that will be his problem, not yours. My question to you is, do you want to go?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Then have the conversation. It will be difficult. It will be painful. But once it is done, it will be behind you.’

I made final plans. On the week of June 15th I quietly moved a few things into Lucy’s spare apartment, as the Portland place wouldn’t be free until August 1st. Hoping I could convince Ben and friends to start work around August 10th (when his summer school duties were over) I figured I could take up residence there by Labor Day. I had two meetings with the lawyer in South Portland — who was primed and ready to put the divorce in motion. Then, on the day I decided I would break the news to Dan, I also gave notice at the hospital, knowing full well that word of my departure from my job would be around town the next morning. Which is why I timed my resignation to take place just an hour before I came home. After fixing dinner for us, I asked Dan if we could sit out on the front porch for a while and take in the reclining light of early evening.

Once settled there I came out with it. Told him that I’d been unhappy for a very long time; that I felt there was nowhere to go in the marriage; that I didn’t think we were a good fit anymore; that, as hard as this was to do, I simply had to leave and start a life without him.

He said nothing as I explained all this. He said nothing as I told him about the job in Portland, and how I’d be moving into Lucy’s garage apartment before the place I found near Maine Medical was ready for occupancy. He said nothing when I explained that I had found a lawyer who was willing to do a no-fault divorce for us very reasonably, that I didn’t want much, that he could take the house, but I did want the savings plan we had put money into over the years (and into which I did all of the contributing for the past two years), and which was worth about $85,000. Since the only other asset of ours was the house with a market value of about $165,000, he’d be coming out ahead. And—

Before I could continue he interrupted me, his face white with anger.

‘I always knew this was going to happen — because I always knew you were so ambivalent about me.’

‘I’m afraid that’s the truth.’

‘So who’s the guy?’

‘There is no “guy”.’

‘But there was a guy, right?’

‘I am not leaving you for someone else.’

‘You’re dodging my question. Because I know that if there isn’t someone now, there was someone. And I’m pretty damn certain you met him that weekend you were in Boston.’

Silence — during which I decided to drive the car straight off the cliff.

‘That’s right,’ I said, meeting Dan’s shocked gaze. ‘There was someone. It just lasted the weekend. Then it ended. Then I came home, quietly hoping that things between us could improve. They didn’t. And now I’m going.’

‘Just like that.’

‘You know we’ve been in a bad place for years.’

‘Which is why you fucked some other guy.’

‘That’s right. If this marriage hadn’t turned moribund, I would never have dreamed of—’

‘“Moribund”,’ he said, repeating the word with contempt.

‘Me and my big words again, right?’

‘You’re beneath contempt.’

‘Thank you for such clarity. It makes this much easier.’

And I stood up and walked to my car and drove away.

Earlier that morning, after Dan had gone off to work, I had packed a final suitcase and dropped it off at Lucy’s. During lunch I had returned home and cleared away my laptop, my favorite fountain pens and notebooks, and several key books, including, of course, The Synonym Finder. These items were already packed into the trunk of my car. When I got to Lucy’s house and began to unload them I had a small private moment of grief. Lucy arrived home from the supermarket a few minutes later with food for our dinner that night. Seeing the red around my eyes she asked me:

‘Was it that bad?’

‘Actually, he was more angry than hurt — which was easier to deal with.’

‘The hurt will come later.’

I drove over to Farmington the next day to see Ben, a date I’d arranged with him earlier in the week. When I got there he told me that his father had called him late last night and was crying down the line, telling him that I was leaving him.

‘Did he say anything else?’

‘He told me you’d been unfaithful to him.’

Oh God. I put my head in my hands.

‘I wish he hadn’t said that.’

‘Well, I kind of knew that already, didn’t I? Or, at least, worked it out after we had that talk following your Boston trip.’

‘Your father still shouldn’t have involved you.’

‘I agree — but the guy is clearly so distressed by what’s happened he’s decided to lash out in all directions.’

‘I’m so sorry. What happened — it was just a weekend thing. And the only reason it happened is because—’

‘You don’t have to explain, Mom. I might not like what I heard, but I am certainly not going to take his side in all this. And I’m pleased that you’ve moved out. as long as, wherever you are, there will always be a spare bedroom for me.’

‘I promise you there will always be a room for you in whatever home I have for the rest of my life.’

Then I pitched him the idea of me hiring him and a couple of friends to do the renovations on the apartment in Portland. He was immediately enthusiastic, saying he’d talk to two fellow art students he knew who did a lot of part-time decorating.

‘You’ve come to the right place for home improvements, ma’am,’ he said, his voice arch and funny. But then:

‘I do have to tell you something, Mom. After what went down with Dad last night I took it on myself to call Sally on her cell at the camp. And I told her what had happened, and what Dad had told me.’

Oh God. but this time to the power of ten.

‘The way I figured it,’ Ben continued, ‘if I didn’t tell her first Dad would have. And that would have really thrown her. Thrown her badly.’

‘You did the right thing,’ I said, thinking to myself: Why is it that when people lash out in fury they do their best to entangle those closest to them in their web of harm?

I had already arranged to drive down and see Sally at Camp Sebago the next morning. I was fully expecting her to call me a scarlet woman (or worse), and slam a metaphoric door in my face. To my surprise, however, she put her arms around me when I showed up and said:

‘It’s going to take me a long time to forgive my father for saying all that shit.’

We went out to lunch. I was as direct as possible with her about how her father and I had fallen out of love. I assured her that she could always count on me for everything, and that me moving to Portland wasn’t me disappearing from her life.

‘I kind of worked that one out already, Mom. I also worked out something else — you waited all this time to leave because you didn’t want to mess up my last years of high school. And I am incredibly grateful to you for that.’

Life moved forward. My lawyer, Amanda Montgomery, counseled me not to say anything to Dan about his attempts to get Ben and Sally into his camp:

‘Your children have already seen through that tactic — what we want to do now is get a deal in place without too much drama.’