Page 100 of F*ck Marriage

I hear the shuffling of feet, the swish of fabric as she comes to stand on the other side of the door. She’s been waiting this whole time, not saying anything, but there. I open the door. At first she looks surprised, but when she sees me in my dress, tears spring to her eyes. She lifts her hands and crisscrosses her palms over her heart. It’s something I’ve seen her do since I was a little girl, the emotion she cannot express verbally, suppressed into that one action. I grab her wrists and drag her into the room, kicking the door closed behind us.

“Billie, what are you doing? I think they’re ready to—”

“Shh, Mom,” I say firmly.

She falls silent, and I begin pacing the small space between the window and the mirror, wringing my hands. I tell her everything I should have told her before: about Woods cheating, about Angus and the accident ... about Satcher, and Pearl, and Jules. When I’m done, she steers me to the chair I was sitting in earlier and sits me down.

“I’m not good with words, Billie.”

It’s the first time she’s ever said something so candid to me and I’m not sure what to say so I wait for her to go on.

“But you’re my daughter and I want to be there for you. We don’t understand each other. We don’t. But I want to try.”

I start to cry and she doesn’t know what to do, so then I start to laugh.

She doesn’t laugh with me; instead, she pulls her lips into a tight line and pats me on the shoulder.

“He didn’t want to leave you,” she says.

“Woods?” I ask through my laughing tears.

“No,” she says slowly. “Satcher. When you were in the hospital, he was by your side the whole time. He got really agitated with me when I told him I wasn’t staying.”

For some reason I can’t meet her eyes. Talking about Satcher makes me feel ashamed.

“Yeah,” I say softly, thinking of the deed to Rhubarb. “He’s always been really good to me.”

“Well, there you have your answer, don’t you?”

I look her in the eyes this time, trying to understand what she’s saying.

“Mom…?”

“I didn’t know,” she says, not meeting my eyes. “About what Woods did ... if I’d known…”

I hold up my hand to stop her. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you guys because I thought you’d side with him anyway ... tell me that it was my fault…”

“Well,” she says slowly. “It wasn’t. And you deserve better than to always be wondering if he’s going to do it again.”

The tears that I was holding back spill.

“I think that you’re more in love with Satcher than you’re willing to admit. And I think that marrying someone you compare to someone else is a very, very big mistake.”

I hadn’t ever thought about it like that, but how many times had I compared them over the years? Satcher spoke Spanish fluently, he started and sold companies, becoming a millionaire at the age of twenty-seven. Satcher worked with a charity that sent him to Africa two weeks out of every year. When you spoke, he really, really, listened; he wasn’t just waiting to speak. I’d been intimidated by him, I’d gone to him for business advice ... and more recently, personal advice. And when I asked him to do stupid, ridiculous things like pretend to be my boyfriend—he’d done it ... for me. He wasn’t confused by the way I changed over the years; he’d been supportive of every new personality and style I’d tried to fit myself into.

When I look up, my mother is watching my face carefully.

“I’ll send Woods in so you can talk to him,” she says.

I nod. I watch her ramrod straight back disappear out the door before she closes it gently, the latch clicking like an angry tongue. Now is the time for me to think. I need to have something to say to Woods, who is unsuspecting, dressed in his suit and ready to get married to me ... again.This is so ridiculous, I think. This is exactly what I moved back here for. I got everything I wanted, and now…

There’s a light knock on the door, Woods’ unsure voice asking if he can come in. I head for the floor-length mirror feeling like there are a hundred rocks clanking around in my gut.

“Come in,” I call through clenched teeth.

When I turn around he’s frozen to the spot, his smile sincere and sweet. My heart beats a little faster, and in the five seconds it takes for him to walk over to me I doubt everything: him, Satcher, myself…

“Billie,” he says softly. “Wow. You’re even more beautiful than the first time we did this.”

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