“You are incredible,” Lauren told her.
“You and I are going to get together more often,” Sylvie said. Then she smiled. “I imagine it will drive Brad out of his mind.”
“Brad is very fond of Andy. And you,” Lauren said with a touch of nervousness.
Sylvie lifted the silver top off a serving platter. There was a beautiful, cheesy omelet, just a few slices of bacon and toast points on the side. She reached for Lauren’s plate and began to serve the food. “Darling, I know a lot of men like Brad. He’s pretty obvious...”
“Oh?” Lauren asked.
“I think Brad likes attaching himself to people he thinks are important. He practically drools when he is introduced to someone he thinks might be important. Or maybe that’s too judgmental of me. Maybe he likes being associated with men like Andy because Andy does so much for the community. But there is no hiding the fact—Brad is not an easy man.”
“How would you know that?” she asked, genuinely curious.
Sylvie handed her the plate and began to serve her own. “I’ll be honest with you, if I can trust you to keep it to yourself.”
“Oh, believe me—I’m not talking to Brad! And I’d never say anything that might betray you.”
“Well then. It’s very easy. I’ve known him for fifteen years and I knew immediately. He’s not gracious to anyone he perceives as beneath him. He’s impatient with servers, valets, groundskeepers, bartenders, laborers. Andy put himself through college working at the docks. He started his first company on government grants. I don’t think Brad would have paid him much notice then. Do you?”
“Brad’s family was wealthy,” Lauren said. “He had a lot of advantages...”
“Neither of us came from money. I worked as a waitress, then eventually a teacher. We worked hard. Our kids had jobs in high school. It’s true, we’ve been very fortunate lately, but it’s still fresh to us. Which explains Andy’s interest in the less fortunate.”
Lately? Lauren thought. She couldn’t remember a time the Emersons weren’t extremely influential in San Francisco society. But then, they were now in their seventies. They had a son nearly as old as Lauren.
“Always remember this, darling—people will be judged by how they treat the most important person in the room and the least important. That will tell you everything you need to know about a person.”
For a while as they ate, Sylvie talked about the early years of her marriage, when the children were small, and times were lean and sometimes terrifying. One of the kids would get sick and they worried about medical costs, not to mention the difficulty of working out childcare so they could both work. It was a struggle to even find family time. But eventually, when the kids were in their twenties, Andy’s company was doing well and they took it public in a big stock offering that shocked their wildest dreams. After that, Andy sold and started a new company, also a success. But the years of struggle were not only remembered clearly by Sylvie and Andy, but also by their children.
Lauren talked a little about her young years and how amazing she thought it that a successful young surgeon would want to marry her. But those early years of marriage with two babies were not easy; Brad was always busy, always on call, leaving early, coming home late. He was high-maintenance from the first day, but she hadn’t expected life with a doctor to be a paid vacation.
Their brunch lasted over two hours. Then Lauren said she’d better get out of Sylvie’s hair.
“I want us to schedule another brunch or a lunch right now,” Sylvie said. “Do you have your calendar?”
“I do,” she said, pulling out her phone.
“Two weeks? Three? And are Sundays good for you? They are for me. If the family’s coming over, they don’t pester me in the morning.”
“I would love it, but Sylvie...how are you so sure you can believe me? Trust me?”
“I’ve known Brad for a long time,” she said. “And I’ve also known you. I think I’m right about you. And when all your friends run and hide, you’ve got me. So—two weeks?”
“Perfect,” she said, smiling.
* * *
In the third week of separation, she had a couple of decorator shelves she wanted mounted onto a wall and she confidently leaned them against that wall in anticipation of Beau stopping by. He texted on Thursday afternoon and asked if he could either stop by or meet her down the street for a glass of wine. She countered by asking if he would hang her shelves, and for that she would happily treat him to the wine.
She’d met him in March. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Beth, that there was a new friend in her life and he was male. She could admit to herself that she was afraid of how it might look, as if she relished the end of her marriage so she could find a better man. People might assume that, especially if they met Beau.
It was almost August and so far the split hadn’t been too traumatic. It seemed as though she was thoroughly prepared for everything Brad would do. He was dragging his feet on providing support payments while they were separated. He had steadfastly refused to help Cassie with law school and she had bravely said, “Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll get loans while we figure things out. Most law students are up to their eyebrows in loans anyway.” Lacey was still angry with her and while it made Lauren sad, she was doing pretty well at letting that be Lacey’s prerogative.
She did not cry late at night. Instead she sometimes shuddered to think what her life would be had she stayed any longer.
After he hung the shelves, she and Beau decided to walk down to a local restaurant for drinks and sliders, which would be a great dinner for both of them. They talked about their work weeks, their kids, their divorces. Michael was slowly coming around, Beau said. Pamela was spending a little more time with her sons these days. “I’m so jaded, I think it’s all about stopping this divorce because she doesn’t have anything better going on. I wish I wasn’t that way. I want to believe it’s genuine love for the boys...”
“And Lacey said she might move home—she’s thinking about it. Probably to comfort her poor father from the evil witch who left him and will rob him blind. You’re not the only jaded one.”
It seemed they couldn’t avoid the topic of divorce for long but that wasn’t the only thing that came up. They talked about their childhoods, high school and college. They both grew up without luxuries, but they had friends and good times.
“Except, I grew up without a father. My grandparents were alive then, so I did have family,” Lauren said.
“I don’t know what I would have done without my dad,” Beau said. “Four kids. Two boys and two girls and we lived in two and a half bedrooms. My dad worked all the time, job after job. When we weren’t in school, my brother and I went with him. My mother cleaned houses and my sisters helped her when they could, but you know what? My parents were always good-natured, always. They have always had this deep sense of gratitude for what they did have. They were grateful for health, for family, for the energy to work. God, did they work.”
“That explains you,” she said.
“How do you figure?”
“The way you’ve managed to keep your boys out of the conflict, keep your home and family together even when your wife left you. And left you and left you...”
“What about you? Where do you get your stamina? What drives you?”
“Well, undeniably my daughters. I’m sure I follow in my mother’s footsteps, if a little awkwardly.”
“Now why would you say that?”
“My mom was abandoned by her husband. She never heard from him again, didn’t know if he was dead or alive and didn’t care. Holding body and soul together was a constant challenge for her. But even as hard as it was for her to be a single mother, she never would have put up with Brad’s meanness and she was very vocal about that. My mother was pretty and poised and strong and smart. She was killed in a car accident two years ago—she was seventy-one and vivacious. Compared to my mother and sister, I’m a wimp. I’m not proud of the fact that I let myself be bullied for so many years.”
“Listen, we do our best,” Beau said. “I’m strong and like to think I’m smart, but I was bullied, too, by Pam. I didn’t fight back and used the excuse that we don’t fight girls.”
They talked about what their favorite college courses had been, what they planned to do with their new lives. “Breathe,” Lauren said. “Walk down the street for breakfast, sometimes for dinner. Have a book club again. I belonged to a book club years ago and I loved it, loved the women in it, but it became too much for my schedule and I had to give it up.”
Beau told her about his real history with Tim, going back to grade school, and some of the trouble they got into when they were on the loose. They both went to Catholic school, of course, but Beau was on a scholarship. They put a frog in Sister Theresa’s desk only to find out she could handle frogs like a pro. “Be glad I don’t make you dissect this little guy for science class,” she’d said. Tim got caught shoplifting once and was forced to go apologize to the shop owner. He also cut class a lot when they were in high school.
“He’s much too handsome to be a priest,” she said.
“If you’d seen him with the girls in high school, you’d be shocked they let him in the priesthood. No one knew his secret, that he intended to end up a priest all along. That didn’t stop him from finding out what he’d be giving up.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked, grinning.
“Oh yeah. He found out before I did,” Beau said.
By the time Beau was walking her home, they were laughing and enjoying the summer evening. It was still light when she said good-night and let herself into her house and he drove away.
She leaned back against the front door and sighed. “I hope this is what I’ll be doing with my new life,” she said aloud. She made a decision right then—she wasn’t going to breathe a word about Beau to anyone until all this divorce business was behind her, behind both of them. She hoped it wouldn’t take too long. She pushed herself off the door and headed to the kitchen, putting her purse on the counter and getting a glass of cold water from the refrigerator.