Page 54 of Look on the Bright Side

The wind had picked up, and rain slapped against the many glass doors that faced the ocean. The two women were quiet a minute.

“Well,” Joy said, “you can stay here as long as you want, Ellie. And I won’t say a word to anyone, hand to God, okay? You’re my friend now, and your secrets are safe with me.”

Fresh tears flooded Ellie’s eyes. “Thank you, Joy,” she whispered. “I can’t tell you how much that means.”

•••

When she woke up, it took Ellie a minute to remember where she was.

It was such a pretty room, even lovelier in the natural light. Deep blue walls, white furnishings and that view! A swath of beach plums delineated the land before the violet-colored ocean, and the sky was pale and clear, a swipe of coral pink at the horizon. She could paint that. She would paint that.

Then panic flashed over her in a bristling wave. Gerald. Her husband had fallen in love with another woman, all via Facebook. Sure, it had ended, but that it had happened at all…it was still a betrayal. To her. For thirty-eight years, they’d been damn near perfect. Happy. Solid. Best friends. And then, five minutes after he retired, he was flirting with a high school crush. Such a goddamn cliché.

She had texted Gerald yesterday from the gallery, saying she was driving down to spend a night with Grace, the only excuse she could think that wouldn’t have him asking too many questions. Coming to Joy’s house…that had been an unwitting genius-level move. Ellie had not predicted crying all over her daughter’s landlady, but the second she’d seen the kindness in Joy’s eyes, something had burst.

She got out of bed and stood for a second, looking out at the ocean. What a privilege, seeing that every day. Then she pulled on her clothes, messaged Meeko to say she’d be late and went downstairs, stopping to admire some of the paintings on the wall, recognizing some of the artists. Oh, here was one of hers! She hadn’t seen it last night. Her heart swelled a little. Joy had bought one of her paintings…or the previous owners had. Joy had mentioned she bought it fully furnished. But someone had thought her art belonged in a house like this, and today, that was an ego boost she needed.

Joy wasn’t up yet, but Lark’s car was gone. Connery, however, was very happy to see her.

“Hello, puppy,” she said, petting his funny little head. She was more of a cat person, but who could resist that face? Ellie made some coffee, then took a cup out to the deck, Connery dancing along beside her.

This was some house. If a woman was going to have her heart smashed, she deserved to stay in a house like this. But how long would she stay? Joy had said as long as she needed, but…shit. Should she talk…She swallowed. Talk to a lawyer?

There was only one way to figure it out. She brought Connery inside so he wouldn’t be eaten by a coyote or fox, left Joy a note saying she’d check in later and thanks again, then got in her car and went home.

The house looked different now. Suddenly, everything seemed to be a message, a snotty snub from Gerald to her. The lawn mower still in her parking space. The rotting fence that she’d asked him at least twice to prioritize. The branch from the kids’ climbing tree, lying in the backyard, yet another job that would remain unfinished. Why had he caved to their backyard neighbor, who was an entitled prick? Why hadn’t he said, “Leonard, it’s a tree. Deal with it.” The kids had loved climbing that tree, and now it looked mutilated. Her granddaughters wouldn’t be able to climb it.

The rambling roses had become choked off with weeds and seedlings. Half of the lilac tree was dead because they hadn’t pruned it properly for years. Gerald hadn’t weed-whacked along the road. The front door needed painting, something Ellie kept meaning to do when she had time. The living room windowpane was cracked. Gerald had promised to get that fixed before Christmas four years ago. No, five.

Was this why she was working so damn hard, painting, running a business, being wife of the year? For these weeds and this rot and a cheating husband?

“Hey,” he said, opening the front door. “How was Grace’s?”

“Who the hell is Camille Dupont?”

His face went gray so fast she thought he might faint. He gripped the door frame and bent over. “Oh, Ellie,” he said.

She shoved past him into the house. “Don’t just stand there like a weakling, Gerald. Get your ass inside.” The kids used to say they were more scared of her when she was angry than they’d ever been of Dad. She had never been a yeller, or someone who got mad when a kid broke a glass or because the dry cleaner ruined a sweater. She didn’t even yell at idiot drivers, a rare trait in Massachusetts. No. Her anger was always reserved for the times when it was richly deserved.

She sat down at the kitchen table, which, you guessed it, hadn’t been properly wiped down after Gerald’s dinner last night.

Gerald approached warily.

“Sit the fuck down,” she said. Dug the iPad out of her bag and tossed it on the table. “Go ahead. Tell me all about your affair.”

“It wasn’t an affair. I did not cheat on you,” he said, but his hands were shaking. “We never had sex.”

What a shitty excuse. I did not have sex with that woman. Did men really think it was that simple?

“You mean, you didn’t put your penis in her vagina. Or mouth, one hopes. Otherwise, yes, you absolutely did cheat on me, you stupid, ungrateful idiot.”

He sat down, head hanging, and she could’ve punched him in the face, she was so furious. Gerald took a couple of breaths, his complexion still sickly. “Okay. Okay. Let me start by saying, Ellie, you are the love of my life.”

“Absolutely meaningless right now.”

“I had a…flirtation going on. You’re right. But it was the typical midlife crisis stupidity and nothing more.”

“It was a lot more, Gerald!” she yelled. “You were having an emotional affair. You cared about her. You missed her. You loved talking to her. It’s all right there, and I read every damn word.”

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