Page 32 of Everything We Thought Was True
What do I do?Sure, she’d confided in Ronnie, whose husband had cheated but with a woman, not a man. And the gender mattered, adding a layer of shame, the sense of something taboo. Even though she wasn’t the one who was cheating, she felt as if by staying with Frank, she was guilty by extension, an accomplice to his socially unacceptable lifestyle.
Then she realized there was indeed one person she could talk to who was in the same boat as her—Henry’s wife, Joanie. Teresa wondered why she hadn’t thought of that earlier. Maybe deep down, she’d been avoiding talking to Joanie. The woman intimidated her. Joanie was in a different league. Teresa had ignored that when they interacted early on, as couples, at the boat club—she’d been able to fool herself that they were somewhat on equal footing. But that wasn’t true. Joanie was involved in all sorts of community events, and she and Henry had help with their home and their kids. Teresa had felt inferior to Joanie. But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was that when it came to their husbands and what might be going on between them—an affair—Joanie and Teresa, sadly, might indeed be on similar terms. And it was time to get some genuineanswers.
She swallowed hard, anxious just thinking about it, not sure she could summon the nerve to approach her about this.What does Joanie actually know? Will Frank be livid if he finds out?Teresa decided she needed to chance it.
Before she lost her nerve, Teresa called Joanie to make a date to meet up. She didn’t tell her what it was about, and fortunately, Joanie didn’t ask. When Joanie accepted, Teresa felt sick to her stomach but also determined to see this idea through.
The following week, while the kids were at school, Teresa met Joanie after lunch at a little trattoria off the thruway in Yonkers. Teresa realized she’d never met Joanie without Frank and Henry being with them. If Joanie was suspicious, she said nothing. She was already sitting at a booth, a martini in front of her, when Teresa arrived. She stood and greeted Teresa, and they briefly hugged. Joanie styled her long blond hair in a high ponytail, which gave her face a tightly pulled effect. Teresa had always thought Joanie resembled Barbara Eden, the actress from the sitcomI Dream of Jeannie.
The server came over, and Teresa ordered her signature nonalcoholic drink that looked good next to people drinking cocktails—cranberry juice with seltzer and a twist of lime. When the server left, Teresa inhaled a deep breath and jumped right in, saying the lines she’d rehearsed in the car on the way over.
“I believe your husband and my husband have a very special type of friendship.” Teresa paused and then kept going before she lost her nerve. “They’re... lovers.”
Joanie took a long sip of her martini, a small frown turning down the corners of her mouth. She said nothing. Teresa couldn’t tell if she was in shock or just not reacting.
“Wow. I’ve never said that out loud,” Teresa said.
Joanie didn’t take her eyes off Teresa while swirling her drink around with her finger. “Yes, I know. Henry and I have talked about it. I’ve known for a while. Frank is not... the first.”
“Oh,” said Teresa, feeling flushed. She clenched and unclenched her fists. She hadn’t expected this. “I didn’t know you knew. I’ve been so consumed by what this means for Frank, for our family...”
“I’ve known about Henry for years. I hoped he could change, but he doesn’t seem to be able to. He used to want to be different. Now I’m not so sure. I think he’s decided to be fully who he is.” Joanie shrugged. “It’s almost romantic when you think about it,” she said with sarcasm. “Well, except for us, of course. You know... the wives.”
Joanie slumped against the back of the booth and reached into her pocketbook to pull out a metallic gold cigarette case. She took out a cigarette, lit it, and exhaled the smoke out of her nose. She was slow and methodical in her movements, like she had all the time in the world, while Teresa felt an urgency rising in her chest.
There wasn’t much fight left in Joanie. Teresa got the impression she’d come to terms with all this a long time ago and had decided to live with it. Joanie looked like a sad, defeated woman.Will that be me in time?
“Do you think they can change?” Teresa asked.
Joanie flipped her ponytail from left to right. “I used to think so but not anymore. It doesn’t seem to be a choice. It’s something they’re just born with or they feel inside. Like it sort of happens to them, and they can’t control it.”
“Almost like they’re trapped,” Teresa whispered.
“Well, they could at least try to restrain themselves, even if they can’t change their feelings,” Joanie said.
“But would you want that—a marriage where your husband is attracted to other men but holds back and restrains himself only for your sake and fakes wantingto be with you?”
“For his wife? For his children? Yes! I don’t think that’s too much to ask.” Joanie was getting angry. “I’m not a perfect wife. Or mother. But at least I’m not a freak. At least I’m normal,” she sneered.
Teresa didn’t like the sound of that. She knew she should find Frank and Henry’s behavior abhorrent, but she just couldn’t start down that path. She didn’t want to. Yes, she was Frank’s wife, and this was happening to her, but she didn’t think her role was to judge him. What she needed to do was understand him so she could make a decision with full knowledge of what she was dealing with. God was the only one who could sit in judgment, and although she was aware of the Catholic church’s hardline view on homosexuality, it didn’t convince her God wouldn’t forgive what Frank and Henry were. Teresa had never toed the line with the church anyway. She couldn’t help but notice that churchgoing didn’t equal goodness and forgiveness. Exhibit A was her father, who’d mistreated her saint of a mother and had bigoted views of anyone outside his limited Italian American community. To Teresa, God was a much more benevolent and forgiving spirit. She had to believe in that kind of God if she, Frank, and their kids were going to figure out their way through this.
“So, you just found out?” Joanie asked, ridicule in her voice, like she thought it was comical Teresa had been in the dark so long. “I assumed you knew.”
“I’ve been suspicious for a while, but I think I’m finally admitting it now.”
“I remember when I found out. Confronted Henry. How are you not furious? I was so angry for so long. It started with the occasional dalliance, but then it moved onto full-fledged affairs, like with Frank.”
Teresa felt like someone had thrown cold water onto her face. A full-fledged affair? Teresa had never thought of it like that, but yes, of course it was.Who am I kidding?
“Can I ask you a question? Why do you stay with him?” Teresa tipped her drink to her lips.
“My parents would never speak to me if I got a divorce. Appearances and all.” Joanie waved her hand as if the matter were something everyone would agree with.
“Is that the only reason? What about the kids?” Teresa lowered her voice. “And money? Doesn’t Henry have a great job?”
“Sure, all that too,” Joanie said, flailing a dismissive hand in the air, causing a strand of hair to come out of her ponytail. Looking at the loose strand, Teresa suddenly felt sad. And alone. More alone than ever. Here she was, talking to the woman married to the man her husband was sleeping with—the one person who knew exactly what she was feeling—yet she didn’t feel any connection to her. No kindred-spirits kind of thing. This woman was a stranger. Teresa realized she’d never truly known Joanie. Their couples friendship had been surface level, born out of proximity. Joanie had known for a long time what was really going on and had never thought to reach out to Teresa. She wasn’t Teresa’s ally. Far from it.
A sense of righteousness rose in Teresa. “Frank is a good father—and even husband, in his own way. There are no rules for this. None. I guess we’re just making it up as we go along.”
