Page 27 of Everything We Thought Was True
Ronnie was quiet for a few seconds. “Do you know who Bob Foley is?”
Teresa shook her head.
The server came over with their coffees and placed them on the table. She smiled at both of them. Ronnie lit a cigarette while Teresa wrung her hands in her lap.
“My ex, Charlie, knows him well. They went to Iona Prep together and are still good friends. Play golf together, smoke cigars—guy stuff. Bob’s a business owner. He owns a chain of restaurants in New Rochelle, Yonkers, and I think Pelham. Pretty well-connected. And here’s the thing—he’s crossed paths with Henry.”
Teresa nodded, encouraging Ronnie to continue. She added cream to her coffee and took a sip. It was still too hot and burned her lips.
“Charlie played golf with Bob over the weekend at that hoity-toity Wykagyl Country Club. You know the one? I swear he throws money around for things like that, but it was like pulling teeth to get him to pay alimony when we first separated, you know?” She gave Teresa an exasperated look and took a drag of her cigarette.
Teresa tried to keep Ronnie on track. “What does this have to do with Henry?”
Ronnie blew out the smoke. “Charlie asked Bob how things were with work. And Bob started going off about how he interviewed Henry for a job as comptroller for his company and then offered it to him, thinking surely Henry would take it. And apparently, Henry turned him down. Bob was pissed and then told Charlie some things about Henry.”
“Like what?” Teresa asked, riveted by what Ronnie was telling her—while simultaneously dreading it.
Ronnie leaned in conspiratorially and looked around the diner then back at Teresa, lowering her voice. “Bob told Charlie that he thinks Henry’s light on his feet, cheats on his wife... with men. Now Bob thinks it's Frank who's caught Henry's eye, if you know what I mean.”
Heat rose in Teresa’s neck, and she put down her coffee mug with a clatter. “I’ve heard nothing like that about Henry.”Does Henry have a history of having affairs with men? Why does Frank have to get caught up in this?
“Well, now you have,” Ronnie said.
Teresa spoke slowly, trying to form the sentence that was like a neon sign announcing itself, unable to be ignored. “This guy, Bob, thinks Henry's... a homosexual?”
“He said Henry goes both ways.” Ronnie hesitated, blew on her coffee to cool it off, and then took a sip. She looked at Teresa. “Oh hon, your neck and face are turning all red. Sorry. I know this is hard.” Ronnie put her hand on Teresa’s and squeezed it. “But I have to say it. Do you think maybe Frank could too?”
Teresa sipped her coffee. Her head hurt. She felt like she was trying to figure out an impossible math equation. She felt exposed for a fool and wondered if that was what she minded most of all. But Frank wasn’t flamboyant in the way he dressed,spoke, and acted. And he flirted a lot with women, but now Teresa wondered if that was because he was covering up what he really was.
“You should give Frank an ultimatum—his friend Henry or you. Pick.” Ronnie gestured wildly, her hands moving so fast they looked like butterflies flapping their wings.
“And if he doesn't choose me, then what do I do? Give up my marriage? Try to raise two kids on my own?”
“I don’t know,” Ronnie said. “I’m not sure what to tell you. Charlie had money. You know that. I took him to court and got alimony. I don’t have to work. My kids were older than Anthony and Lena are now. It wouldn’t be easy to be on your own—that’s for sure. I’m worried that Frank can’t pay enough in alimony and child support.”
“I’m his wife. We have a family.” Teresa felt tears sting her eyes. “I still love him,” she whispered.
“I know you do.” Ronnie pouted. “But what good is it, though, if what he really wants is to be with someone else? What if he was born into the wrong life, and now you’re paying for that mistake?”
“Do you really think this Bob Foley guy could be telling the truth—about Henry, I mean?” Teresa’s voice sounded tired and meek even to her own ears.
“Why would he say it otherwise? I guess the real question is, what’re you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Hope it’s not true. If it is true, hope it runs its course.” Teresa felt so defeated. She looked up at Ronnie, embarrassed by the small glimmer of hope already appearing in her mind. “Even if it is true—and I’m not saying it definitely is—it’s not like he’s cheating on me with another woman, you know? I mean, it’s different.”
“Oh, honey, stop fooling yourself. Of course it’s cheating. Woman, man—makes no difference. Your husband is sleeping with someone else. That’s all that matters. In some ways, this is muchworse. Think about it. How many married men do you know who cheat with other men?”
A sob broke through Teresa’s lips, and she clasped a hand over her mouth.
“Sweetie, I’m not telling you to leave him, but make no mistake—it’s cheating.”
Teresa thought,I didn’t know about my husband’s sex life. What a strange statement. She’d lived with her husband all this time and never suspected until recently. It was, at the very least, a monumental act of naivete and obliviousness. Even sexually, she’d never guessed. She’d assumed the falling off she and Frank had experienced was simply the normal course of events when the husband was working two jobs and the wife was taking care of two little kids. Or with a wife like Teresa, who had gained so much weight. The gall of him—letting her believe her own inadequacies had been the cause when all along, he’d been having an affair.
Teresa and Frank had a way of making love that was long practiced and differed little from one time to the next. It allowed them to go through the motions in a language of their own, not having to renew their communication, sticking to the protocol. She’d sensed an unmistakable shift recently. But she’d never smelled a trace of another woman or found a smear of lipstick on his shirt. Another man? That hadn’t even been on her radar. Not until she caught Frank looking lustfully at Tommy. That had been the first clue. She thought about how much time Frank and Henry spent alone together, seemingly in their own world. How they looked at each other and interacted. The pieces of the puzzle were fitting together.
“All those years,” Teresa said, recognition dawning. “It may have all been false.” She shook her head. “All those times we made love, I was making love to a man who was having sex with other men.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. You didn’t know. How could youhave known?”
