Their lunches arrived. Addie buttered some bread and slid it over to Justine. She cut up her tomato and avocado slices, dipped her fork in the dressing and then stabbed a bit of chicken.
Justine smiled. “You look amazing,” she said. “Addie, I’ve neglected you. We were both raised as only children, but you hung in there with Mom through the dark years, when she barely communicated.”
“I knew what she was communicating,” Addie said. “Sort of. Most of the time.”
“What are you doing this weekend?”
“Nothing special. I usually get my meals ready for the week, shop for food, exercise a lot, hit a meeting at my weight loss support group...”
“Let me take you shopping. I’ll ask the girls if either of them wants to go along. We can have lunch, too.”
“First you have to tell me something,” Addie said. “I need to know how you’re really feeling.”
“I told you already,” Justine said. “There isn’t any more.”
“But of course there’s more because underneath you’re not so much in control as it appears on the surface. I want to know. I want to hear. Maybe you need real counseling, not just that sham of a marriage counselor who Scott was so successful in lying to. I won’t know how to help you unless you’re completely honest with me. I see women all day long who have been abandoned or divorced or abused and have barely escaped, and I can’t ask them. I look at them and know they’re covering up an enormous mound of toxic, terrifying feelings, but I’m not a counselor and I can’t ask. I know what you’re doing. I want to know what you’re feeling.”
Justine took a slow sip of soup from her spoon. She thought for a moment, dabbed her lips and said, “I’m not withholding from you, Addie. Nor being untrusting of you. It’s just that I’m so careful about what I let myself feel because I’m afraid I might crack. And if I crack, I’m might collapse and never get up again. I have to be strong for my girls, for my ability to support us. What I feel is terror. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone. I can’t let the girls see how afraid I am. All those years I asked Scott for his opinion on something or asked a favor, like would he mind stopping at the bank, or called him from work to ask him what he felt like for dinner, or just called him to ask if he heard some news item and talked to him for five or ten minutes. He draws me as job obsessed and cold, yet we texted, talked and emailed each other all day long.” She pulled out her phone and scrolled through her texts.
Hey babe, I pulled out that pork loin to thaw. Does that sound good?
Sounds delicious.
I’ll stick it in the crock pot if you’ll bring home some deli potato salad.
Sure, and I’ll find something green. Love you.
Love you!
Sweetheart, I’m running a little late and won’t get home till about seven. Tell the girls we’ll work on homework then if they need help.
Sounds like pizza night. Will that work for you?
Perfect. I’ll pick it up on the way home if you’ll order it.
Okay. And I have some pants at the cleaners if today is a good day to run by there.
I will. Anything else?
Just that I love you.
Love you back.
Addie read only a few. All were friendly, cooperative, affectionate.
“That’s the man who said he hasn’t really loved me in a long time,” Justine said. “I never saw it coming. I might as well have been hit by a train. Can you see why I’m afraid to feel much? Afraid to let myself cry? I’ve never in my life been lied to so thoroughly. So successfully.”
Addie handed back the phone. “I get it,” she said. “We’re going to get through this, together.”
* * *
Adele found the dichotomy of Justine’s strength plus her vulnerability completely disarming. Her sister, the epitome of power and grace, had been reduced to an extremely thin woman consumed by pain. It felt, at the moment, they had only each other, yet they really didn’t know each other at all. They’d been raised in the same house in different eras. The recent turn of events demonstrated they weren’t really familiar with each other’s private lives at all. Their relationship was like that of neighbors who were civil and polite while barely scratching the surface.
Adele was a little late getting back to the office. Nothing was said about the time. Ross actually smiled as Adele entered the office. The woman’s resting expression was usually anything but cheerful. Ross asked her if she had a nice lunch, then went back to her office. For the duration of the afternoon, Adele was a little distracted.
At five o’clock, when Adele was locking the desk drawers and turning off her computer, Ross stuck her head out of the door that led to the offices and meeting rooms.
“Adele, can you come to my office for a minute?”
It was more request than question. She left her purse and followed her.
Ross sat behind her desk. “I’m sorry I overstayed my lunch,” Adele said preemptively. “I promise I won’t let it happen again. It was kind of a special circumstance. I—”
“No problem, Adele. You’ve barely taken a lunch since you started. But I saw your sister, briefly, and you’ve been a little off since you got back. Is everything all right?”
Adele was temporarily struck silent.
“You’ve been very quiet. I can usually hear your chatter with the clients...”
“I’m sorry! I can keep it down! I think I just feel so compelled to reach out to each one of them and—”
“Adele! Stop! I’m not complaining or scolding you! I want to know if you’re all right!”
She was confused. “Me?”
Ross sighed heavily and folded her hands atop her desk. “You told me your sister was going through a hard time. The divorce. I saw her. She looked very thin and had dark circles under her eyes. You took an extra long lunch break, which is not like you at all. And you’ve been very quiet all afternoon. I’m not upset with you. I want to know if you’re all right.”
It wasn’t the first time Adele had been asked if she was all right. Many people did after her mother passed. When she started losing weight, it was noticed and again, a few people asked after her health and well-being. But that Ross, who she’d known for such a short time, would ask, left her feeling humbled. Ross, who had to listen to the troubles of displaced women all day! Shouldn’t she be low on energy and not have any to spare for her now?
Adele felt a tear run down her cheek. “No. I’m not really okay. My sister is having such a hard time and I’m useless!”
Ross frowned. “Now, of course you’re not useless. Tell me what’s going on, then I’ll help you work up a plan.”
“Well, she’s lost weight. I always envied her figure, till now. Her husband of almost thirty years cheated, they’re getting divorced, she’s shattered and she won’t let herself feel it. She said she’s afraid she’ll crack. My nieces are sixteen and seventeen, different as day and night, and they’re having a hard time too. Justine is depressed, not eating, refusing to let herself cry, worried about the future. Her husband has never really worked and he wants alimony!”
Ross gave a helpless shrug. “Support payments are part of the law,” she said.
“He could have worked. He just likes to have fun,” Addie said. “I hate him so much! Justine has worked so hard and—” She sighed and wiped at her eyes. “My sister is twenty years older than me, and she’s always been the most together, successful, strongest woman I know. Here she is, falling apart. And I can’t help.”
“You can probably help if you want to.”
“I would if I had any idea how!”
“Of course you can help,” Ross said. “First of all, one of the most important things you can do when someone is going through a traumatic life transition like this is listen. Let them vent and rant and just listen patiently. You can also suggest counseling...”
“They went to marriage counseling,” Adele said. “She said Scott lied all the way through it until their last session, when he admitted he’d been having an affair—after she said she had proof of it. It sounds like it was going on for a year or two...”
“Not unusual,” Ross said. “A person who has learned to lie to his spouse every day for years has no trouble coming up with a good story in counseling. And that year or two? It’s never a surprise when it’s double that.”
“Double that? And he wants alimony!”
“Even though that causes rage and feels unfair, it is the law—no fault, community property. Right now what’s important is that your sister protect her assets, the most important of which are her children and her self-esteem. Nothing can gut a woman’s self-esteem like being rejected and abandoned.”
“She’s a lawyer,” Adele said. “A friend of hers is drawing up the divorce. The paperwork. I think it’s almost completely filed already and should be final quickly.”
“Then other than urging her to get good professional advice, I’m assuming she’s in the driver’s seat. Well, except for the shock and pain of it. And the grief. None of us escapes that, and there’s no way through it but through it. Adele, who do you have to talk to? Because this is obviously your pain and transition, too.”
She gave a helpless shrug. “I have friends. I have my weight-loss support group, even if I don’t tell them that much really personal stuff. I have Jake, my friend since we were kids. His mom was my mom’s best friend, and Jake’s always looked out for me. When he can.”
“Not your sister?”
“It’s hard to explain, but with Justine being twenty years older, we sort of relied on each other without ever being really close. She relied on me to help with things like babysitting after her children were born, and I relied on her financially when our mom was bedridden. Justine helped, since I couldn’t work. We’ve always loved each other, but we weren’t like friends. I was working on my graduate degree in English when my dad became an invalid and I—” She shrugged.