Patrick—she needs to discuss it with Patrick.
But first, for a practice run, Jennifer decides to tell Leanne.
It’s after barre class on Saturday morning, and Leanne has asked Jennifer to go for coffee at Thinking Cup. As soon as they get their coffees, muffins, and yogurt parfaits and sit down at one of the tiny tables, Jennifer leans forward so far that she can smell the cinnamon on the top of Leanne’s cappuccino and says, “I have something to talk to you about, and it’s going to be very difficult for me.”
Leanne says, “I’m a safe place for you, Jennifer. You know that.” She holds up her palms. “No judgment here.”
Jennifer couldn’t have hoped for a better response, and yet she fears Leanne will judge her. How could she not? But Jennifer has to start somewhere; she has forty-eight hours to make a decision. Whatever Leanne advises her to do, she decides, is what she will do.
Jennifer says, “About a year before I met you? While Paddy was in jail? I became addicted to pills. Ativan and oxycodone.”
Leanne gasps, “Oh, Jennifer!”
Here comes the judgment, Jennifer thinks. Leanne won’t want to go to barre class or get coffee anymore. She won’t want to be friends anymore. When people ask who decorated her house, she’ll say, “A former pill junkie named Jennifer Quinn.”
Leanne grabs Jennifer’s hand. “I feel honored that you’ve shared this with me. It must have been a difficult time for you.”
Jennifer lets a few tears fall into her latte. “It was,” Jennifer says. She blots her face with a napkin and thinks: Of course Leanne knows exactly what to say and how to react. “You don’t think I’m a horrible person?”
“Oh, sweetie,” Leanne says. “How could I ever think that?”
Jennifer proceeds to tell her the rest of the story: How she met with Grayson Coker, how he hit on her, how she quit. How Paddy is struggling to get his hedge fund up and running, how both he and Jennifer were depending on the penthouse project for money. How Jennifer has been approached to host a show on SinTV.
Here Leanne shrieks like a fangirl. “SinTV!”
“But I’d have to reveal myself as a former addict,” Jennifer says.
“Do it,” Leanne says. “You have to do it.”
“I’m not sure that I can,” Jennifer says.
“Why not?” Leanne says. “This is your big chance. So you tell the world you’re a recovering addict. People will care for five minutes, then they’ll forget. And the people who care longer than five minutes are those who are either recovering addicts themselves or who have addicts in their family—and to those people you’ll be an inspiration. A beacon of hope.”
“You think?” Jennifer says.
“You need to choose bravery over shame,” Leanne says. “Humility over pride. Otherwise, you’re hiding in the shadows. You think substance abuse doesn’t affect the affluent? The sophisticated? That addicts don’t live in Beacon Hill or Back Bay?” Leanne leans in. “It affects everyone.” She digs into her yogurt parfait. “I, for one, would be behind you a hundred and ten percent. And I can tell you without equivocation that Derek will be behind you as well. What does Patrick say?”
Jennifer raises her eyebrows.
“You haven’t told him?” Leanne says.
Jennifer picks a raisin out of her bran muffin. She shakes her head.
“Go home now,” Leanne says. She helps Jennifer wrap her muffin and secure the top to her latte. “Go home and tell him, and then call me later so I can hear about how wonderful he was.”
Patrick is in his office, of course, running through the close of Friday’s markets on the computer. The two younger boys are in the den playing Minecraft, and Barrett is at the Celtics game with his friend Saylor and Saylor’s father, Gregory. Gregory is in AA—he’s very open about this—and Jennifer doesn’t think less of him for it, does she? No. She doesn’t worry about Barrett when he’s in Gregory’s care. Why would she? Getting help is a sign of strength, of wisdom.
Jennifer closes the door to the office. “I need you to shut down the computer,” she says to Patrick. “I have something to tell you.”
I quit the penthouse project.
What? Why? Why on earth did you do that?
It wasn’t working out.
Wasn’t working out? For Pete’s sake, Jen!
Grayson Coker hit on me. He tried to kiss me. He was inappropriate with his hands.
What?
So I walked out. And I quit.
[Deep breath.]
When was this?
A few weeks ago.
Weeks ago? And you didn’t tell me?
I thought you’d be angry.
I am angry. How dare he…
And I knew you’d be upset about the money. I mean, I know we need it. But the good news is, a new opportunity presented itself.
What is it?
A show. A design show on SinTV called Real-Life Rehab.
SinTV, as in the network that produces Swing Set?
[Pause. Jennifer wonders if Patrick, too, watches Swing Set.]
Yes.
Does this design show involve swinging?
No. They rehab buildings in bad neighborhoods. They’re setting it in Boston. The first house is in Dorchester. They want me to be the host. I’ll get paid thirty-five thousand dollars per episode for the first twelve episodes of the first season.
Thirty-five thousand per episode? That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you.
But.
But what?
The show is called Real-Life Rehab for a reason. I have to tell everyone that I’m a recovering addict. That’s part of the deal. Nonnegotiable.
Oh.
What do you think?
I… uh, okay. Wow. I don’t know what to think. What do you think?
I think I’m going to do it. I’m going to choose bravery over shame. Humility over pride. Otherwise, I’m hiding in the shadows. I don’t want to hide in the shadows. I want the spotlight.
Good for you.
Really?
Yes, really. Come here and give me a kiss.
On Monday morning Jennifer calls Danko and says, “I’m going to do the show.”
“Yasssss!” he says. “The studio execs are going to be thrilled. Good for you, Jennifer. You won’t regret it. I’ll FedEx the contracts to you today, and we’ll likely start shooting the pilot just after the first of the year.”
Jennifer hangs up the phone. She feels brave and humble. And excited!
Now…now she can allow herself to think about Thanksgiving. She will make a kale Caesar with homemade dressing and pumpernickel croutons, and an autumn salad of mixed greens, butternut squash, dried cranberries, goat cheese, and toasted pecans with an apple cider vinaigrette.
Yum.
Mitzi has decided to keep dinner “just family,” but even that involves quite a crowd. Kelley and Mitzi will be there, obviously, as well as one or both of Kelley’s hospice nurses, as well as Jennifer, Patrick, and the three boys, and Kevin, Isabelle, Genevieve, and baby KJ. Ava is coming without Potter. (Again without Potter? This seems odd to Jennifer and she says so to Patrick. Patrick says, “He’s in California seeing his son.”) Margaret and Drake are coming, just after Margaret’s retirement trip to Barbados. And Bart will be there with his new girlfriend, Allegra, who was the girl dressed up like a geisha at his birthday party.
Despite the presence of hospice nurses, and despite the fact that Kelley’s speech has slowed down and he can’t eat more than a few bites of food, Mitzi has instructed everyone that the holiday is to be treated as it has always been treated in the Quinn household—as a celebration of family, a day of gratitude.
Think how lucky we are, Mitzi writes in the group text she sends. Bart is home.
Then she sends a text that says: There will be no tears, no maudlin toasts, and above all: no family squabbles. There will be turkey with all the trimmings, there will be pie and there will be football.
And at midnight Mitzi will proceed with her tradition of decorating the inn for Christmas.
That means nutcrackers! Mitzi says. And the Byers’ Choice carolers!
Jennifer is so happy about her decision and her new career that she doesn’t even roll her eyes.