Rushing Waters (20 page)

Grace left for the office before Ellen got up the next day. And when she woke up, Ellen crawled out of bed feeling like she'd been on a two-week bender, remembering everything George had said to her the night before. She didn't hear from him again, he didn't send her a text or email to tell her he was sorry or that he loved her, or had changed his mind, which was what she hoped. It was totally over for him, and all he wanted now was to get out of a marriage that was dead for him. And he obviously expected her to be “stiff upper lip” and businesslike about it.

She wasn't going to make trouble for him, but she felt betrayed by all of them, George, the woman he'd been sleeping with, their friends who had obviously known about the affair for months, even her friend Mireille. And she suddenly wanted to make a clean sweep of it herself. She didn't want to see any of them again, or even George. But they would have to take the house apart together and decide who got what. She dreaded going back to London now, and she had major decisions to make, about where to live, and where to run her business from. It felt overwhelming as she sat in Jim's kitchen drinking a cup of coffee and staring into space.

She had heard Bob's typewriter clacking away from his room down the hall, and didn't notice when it stopped. He came into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, and saw her sitting there. She gave a start when she saw him.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you okay? Your mother said you had a migraine last night.”

“I'm all right,” she said, embarrassed to run into him. She felt awful and knew she looked it. And she didn't know what to say. “My life ended last night”? “It's been a rough couple of weeks” was all she could come up with. Rougher than he knew or she wanted to tell him. She didn't want to tell anyone yet. Not even her mother. She felt abandoned and vulnerable, ashamed and unloved. She didn't even know where she was going to live.

“We all need a break from it, and I'm sure breathing sewage fumes for the last ten days didn't help. I hear you found your mother a great apartment. We'll be sorry when she leaves.” He smiled at Ellen, and she returned the smile wanly.

“It's a great place for her. How did you do with the two you saw yesterday in the building?” He smiled broadly when she asked him.

“I got lucky too. One of them is perfect for me. I'm going to make an offer on it. It's bigger than I wanted, and about five hundred square feet bigger than my place in Tribeca, but I like it. It has the same view as this one. And it'll be nice to be in the same building as Jim. I can run my manuscripts up to him after every chapter.” He was joking but was pleased. “The place needs work, the current owner's mother lived there for forty years, and it needs some serious help to overhaul it. I was thinking of asking your mother if she would give me some advice, and maybe hire her on as the architect. New kitchen, new bathrooms. I think I want to knock down a wall or two to make bigger bedrooms, and a great office with a view of the park.” He was visibly excited about it, and Ellen smiled.

“That's right up her alley. She'll love it.”

“Your mother said you're leaving at the end of the week. When are you going back?” He was sorry to see her go, and now she was too. She was going home to her very own hurricane in London.

“Saturday, I think. I've got a lot to do when I get there.” She didn't say what, and he didn't ask. He could see she was upset. They sat across the table from each other drinking coffee, and then she looked at him bleakly. He was a kind person and she liked him, and she couldn't keep it a secret forever. “I haven't told my mother yet, but my husband informed me on the phone last night that our marriage is over, and has been for years in his opinion. He wants a divorce and is going to marry someone else.” Bob stared at her with a shocked expression, which turned to sympathy rapidly.

“Shit. I'm sorry. That's brutal, and hearing it on the phone makes it even worse. It's so impersonal.” He couldn't believe someone would do that. But now Ellen could. He had been glacial on the phone. And she realized now that that was who George really was. He was heartless, now that it was over for him. And he had lied to her for a long time, a full year, while he cheated on her.

“Maybe it's better. I couldn't scream and lie sobbing at his feet,” she said ruefully, but she wasn't the type to do that—she had too much dignity, like her mother.

“What are you going to do? Stay there? Move back here?”

“I have no idea. He asked me that too, five minutes after he told me. I have to figure it all out when I go back. He wants to sell the house, which is probably smart. It was too big for us anyway.” She sighed. “I spent the last four years having infertility treatments and IVF, trying to have a baby. He says that ended the marriage for him, which may be true. It became kind of an obsession for me. And I just finally accepted that that's not going to work, so now no husband, no baby, brave new world. It's a lot to figure out. The hurricane was easier to deal with.” He nodded, sorry for her. And she was startled at how much she was telling him, and she wasn't even embarrassed.

“Divorce is never pleasant, for anyone. And it's always something of a shock, even if you're the one who wanted it. It's always worse than you expect it to be. I didn't want a divorce either—my wife just fell out of love with me and wanted out. I probably deserved it, but it hurt anyway. Most of us are stupid about relationships, and blind to what the other person is feeling.” He was worried about Ellen as they talked. She was destroyed.

“I didn't realize how fed up he was with the baby-making and infertility stuff. He says he hated the last four years, and it's been over for him for the last two.”

“He should have told you and not cheated on you,” Bob said, and she nodded. She sat staring into her coffee then for a few minutes, and he patted her arm and then went back to work, thinking about her and what lay ahead of her. He felt genuinely sorry for her, and even if she'd made mistakes in her marriage, she was a good person, and he was sure she had done her best. Her husband sounded like a prick to him, but he didn't want to say so and make things worse.

Grace called a few minutes later and asked how her headache was. Ellen still felt rocky but insisted she was fine and was going to shop for her clients that afternoon. After they hung up, she made a reservation for a flight back to London on Saturday night, arriving Sunday morning.

And then she went out to shop for her clients but found nothing. She was too distracted to even see what was in the stores, and all she could think of was what George had told her the night before. She said nothing to her mother that night, and worked on her computer to avoid her, and finally on Friday when she was packing, her mother asked her what was wrong. Ellen was about to lie to her, and then decided there was no point. She sat down on the bed and stared at Grace. Her eyes were as deeply troubled as she felt.

“George wants out, Mom. He wants a divorce. He's in love with someone else.” Her mother was as stunned as Ellen had been when he told her. It was the last thing Grace had expected from him. She had thought he was better than that, and a decent man.

“That's it? He told you that while you were here?” Ellen nodded. “Did you suspect it? Have you two been fighting a lot?” George had never seemed like a cheater to her.

“No, I thought everything was fine. He was hard to reach once I got here, but my phone wasn't working most of the time, when we were downtown. He says it's been going on for the last year. He said the infertility treatments and IVF were too much for him.”

“Did he warn you of that, and say something?” Ellen shook her head.

“Maybe I should have suspected it. It's been pretty depressing and stressful for both of us. She's related to one of George's friends. I think that's part of it too. He wants to be with his own kind.”

Grace looked angry at that. “You did everything his way. Maybe you shouldn't have.” It was the only reproach she could have made. “You let him make all the rules. Everything had to be according to his old-school British standards. Was that okay with you?” She had always wondered and didn't want to ask.

“Sometimes it was okay,” Ellen said quietly. “It was important to him, so I tried to respect his traditions. It would have been harder if we'd had kids. He wants to put the house on the market when I go back, right away—in fact, he sounds like he's in a hurry. He's decided that it's over, and now he wants out.”

“What about you? What do
you
want?” her mother asked her. Ellen never thought enough about that. She was too accommodating, and George had taken full advantage of it. Ellen had trusted him. It had never occurred to her he was cheating on her.

“I don't know what I want. I haven't had time to think about it,” Ellen said miserably. It broke Grace's heart to see how shattered her daughter looked.

“Do you want to stay in London?” This was a shock for Grace too, and she felt deeply sorry for her daughter.

“I don't know that either. I thought I had a life there, and friends. But apparently they all knew about this woman and went along with it, and no one told me. She's someone's cousin, and he knew her before. She's one of them. I never was. I realize that now. I'm not sure I belong there or want to stay. Maybe I should try to come back to New York, and run my business from here. I could try it, and go to Europe when I need to see my clients. I could stay with you for a while.” Grace looked pensive when she said it, before she answered.

“You could do that. But you can't be a nomad now. You lived by George's rules for all these years and did what he wanted. You can stay with me, but you need your own space, your own life, your own rules. You have to decide what
you
want, not just live in my guest room.” Her mother had a point. “Maybe try it here for a while, and commute when you have to.” Listening to her, Ellen realized that she no longer had a home in either city. But instead of free, she just felt lost. Her mother was right, she had to figure it out for herself, and what
she
wanted. She no longer knew that, or even who she was.

“I'll figure it out when I go back. Maybe I should open an office here.” It was all so confusing and so new, she felt overwhelmed.

“I'm so sorry this happened,” Grace said sympathetically as she hugged her. “You'll make the right decisions when you get there.” Ellen nodded but wasn't sure—she had clearly been making the wrong ones about George for a long time. She felt betrayed by everyone now, and hated the thought of going to London to take apart her life. But it had to be done, and then wherever she decided to live, she would have to start all over again.

Ellen had lunch with her mother the next day before her flight. And she thanked Jim again for his hospitality before she left the apartment. She had loved staying there. He assured her that he had thoroughly enjoyed having her and her mother as houseguests. The co-op board had approved Grace, who was moving to her temporary apartment the following weekend. Ellen left him a magnum of champagne, and a generous tip for the help, and she ran into Bob as she was leaving for the airport.

“Good luck,” he said kindly. He was worried about her. “Take care of yourself in London.” They were wise words, and he meant them.

“Good luck to you too, with the offer on the new apartment.” She tried to look braver than she felt. It was humiliating to have everyone know that her husband had left her, and she suspected that in London it would be worse. She felt like an utter failure as she hugged her mother with tears in her eyes and left. It had been a strange two weeks that suddenly felt like a lifetime. Everything had come apart, and nothing had been put back together yet. She felt like she'd never have a life again.

The flight to London seemed to take forever. She lay awake for most of it and was exhausted when she arrived at Heathrow. She took a cab from the airport, and let herself into the empty house. As he had told her on the phone he would be, George was gone. She guessed that he was probably away for the weekend with Annabelle, at another house party, with the people who had pretended to be Ellen's friends, and she now knew never were.

She checked the closets in their bedroom, and his dressing room. His clothes were gone. And looking around their bedroom at the small things that were missing, and the photographs of them he had left behind, she sat down on their bed and cried. It was depressing beyond belief to be back. And after what had happened, there was no one she wanted to see or get in touch with.

George called her that night, and she heard the now-familiar icy, businesslike tone when she answered. “You're back?” He sounded in good spirits, as though he'd had a fun weekend. She didn't ask him about it and didn't want to know.

“I am,” she confirmed in a dead voice. “I see you took your clothes.”

“I think we should get together this week and divide up what's in the house.” She had paid for a lot of the furniture, and decorating, and he had paid for the rest. Some of it had been wedding gifts, or from her mother. And he had brought some of his ancestral antiques. The idea of pulling it all apart and splitting it up depressed her even more. And where would she send it? She had absolutely no idea.

“What's your rush?” she asked him in a hollow voice, in order to cover her own confusion.

“I think we need to get this behind us, so we can both go on with our lives. There's no point hanging on,” he told her, and he had certainly made that clear since his announcement on the phone four days before. “We should put the house on the market as soon as possible, unless you want to stay there?” But she didn't want to now—it would just be a painful memory for her. It was the house they had bought to have babies in, and they had imagined themselves there for the rest of their lives. She was glad now that they had never bought a country house—it would have just been one more thing they had to get rid of and split up.