33. Two Months Ago
PENNY
Over the fourteen years of my marriage, I learned how easily Lance could distance himself when things got hard for our family.
In the first few weeks after Milo’s birth, Lance took on more hours at work and more clients in the name of furthering his career, but I knew it was so he could get out of the house. My mom, Kiki, and even Frank had helped me out, but I needed my husband. Meanwhile, Gavin kept his distance in Denver, looking for the next girl to focus his energy on. We kept in touch by phone, but it took him a long time to adjust to the fact that I was married with a child.
At home, Lance couldn’t handle hearing Milo cry all day, which is what he did almost constantly for the first three months of his life. Once, in the middle of the night, I had asked him to go to the nursery to change Milo and rock him back to sleep. I was exhausted from staying up with him all day and night. Instead, Lance brought Milo into our room, laid him next to my head, and changed his diaper. I had asked why he did it and he blew up at me. I had told him I needed to sleep and he had said, “But I have to go to work tomorrow and you don’t.” He always wanted me to be awake if he had to be. I never asked him to get up with Milo again after that night.
There weren’t many options for me in the years after I had Milo. Sure, I could have left Lance and gotten a job, but there was more to it. I did love Lance, and I knew he loved me. He was also extremely levelheaded about our future. He worked hard and made investments and planned vacations—he was so reliable in that way. He was romantic, too. He’d bring me flowers, chocolates, and lingerie for no reason at all. He’d write beautiful messages in greeting cards. After a few years, I got comfortable in my relationship with him. I even became more like him. I took on his sense of humor and his OCD about germs. He insisted that we keep an immaculate house, and I complied. Gavin had predicted I’d change to suit Lance’s needs, and he was right.
Every so often, though, Gavin would pop into our lives and disrupt the image Lance was trying to create. Before Gavin found out his father was sick, he was completely untethered. He’d had a slew of girlfriends over the years, the longest relationship being his most recent one, with Jenn. Three years they spent together, never committing to more than a casual relationship, though I know she wanted more, which is why he eventually broke up with her. Before Jenn, every time Gavin broke up with a girlfriend, he’d show up in Fort Collins and want to hang out with me and Milo. This irked Lance. He kept quiet about it out of respect for me, so I tried to return the favor by telling him everything we did together. But I hid my true feelings. I made Lance believe Gavin was my brother, and not a man I held so dear to my heart.
Gavin had built a successful mechanic’s garage from the ground up. Other than his work, he lived like a typical bachelor, traveling with friends all over Europe, taking off to Hollywood to see his mom anytime he felt like it. I called it running. He called it freedom. Either way, it was something I envied fervently. He went to concerts constantly, always inviting me, though he knew I could rarely go. He did what he wanted.
But every now and then, he’d call and say, “Penny, I’m lost. I want what Lance has. I’m tired of my life.”
I had tried to convince him that there was nothing to envy about Lance’s life. “You want to work sixty hours a week selling pharmaceuticals?”
Gavin would always just reply, “You know what I mean.”
Now Lance and I were in counseling.
ON MY WAY to the counselor’s office, I knew I had to make a decision. In the month we had spent apart, I danced a lot in my home studio and dove into Milo’s activities, but mostly I stayed at home, soul searching. Gavin was swept up in Briel, not atypical for him in the beginning of a relationship. I knew it would end in a month or two when she went back to France, but at least he was giving me the space I needed.
I thought a lot about Lance and our marriage. He had been trying so hard in therapy to prove to me that we could work it out. And I believed him.
In the parking lot after last week’s counseling session, I had let Lance kiss me good-bye. It was a passionate kiss. I missed his hands on me, the way he always smelled like the cologne he had worn for years, which had became a source of comfort to me, of marital ease and unselfconsciousness. He had put his strong arms on my hips and in return I had gripped his forearms. He had been wearing a gray dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His skin was warm. When I had left the parking lot last week, after our intimate moment, I was sure I knew the decision I was going to make.
Pulling out of my driveway, I waved to Milo, who was playing Ping-Pong in the garage with his friend Kale. Heading down the street, I noticed a For Rent sign in Frank’s yard. Gavin had told me he was going to wait awhile, fix up the house, and then sell it. I wondered why he wanted to rent it out now.
A week later in the parking lot of the counselor’s office, I texted Gavin.
Me: I thought you were selling your dad’s house? Why is there a For Rent sign?
Gavin: Change of plans. I’ll explain everything to you later. I gotta go.
That was abrupt.
Once inside Dr. Lake’s office, I gave Lance a quick peck on the cheek and sat down next to him.
“Did you meet with her before I got here?” I said to him.
“We had a short talk. I think this session is actually unnecessary, right, Dr. Lake?”
“I do. Penny, if you’re up for it, Lance would like to have a private moment with you to discuss things.”
My brain was a little fried. I hadn’t expected to be alone with him. I turned toward Lance. “What do you mean?”
“Just what Dr. Lake said. I’d like to talk to you in private. Are you okay with that?”
“I’m okay talking in private,” I said. He was trying to give me the space I needed to feel comfortable. “Where do you want to go?”
He stood up. “Why don’t you follow me to 415?”
It was one of our favorite date-night spots. “Sure . . .”
I looked at Dr. Lake curiously but she simply said, “Good luck, you two.”
ON THE WAY to the restaurant, I thought about how I was going to tell Lance I wanted to try again, but that I wanted a lot to change. I needed a lot to change in order to move forward with him. I just had to be up front and communicate.
Inside the dimly lit room, we took our seats at a small table for two. He reached for my hands naturally, and I let him take them.
“I love you, Penny.”
“I love you, too.”
“I did a lot of thinking while we were apart.” He studied me closely, and I sensed he was about to drop a bomb on me. The silence hung like a frozen bullet, staring me down.
“Did you meet someone?” I blurted out.
He jerked his head back. “Jesus, no. Let me finish. There are so many things I love about you.”
“Thank you,” I said, still stunned.
“But I bring none of them out in you anymore.”
“That’s not—”
“It’s true,” he said. His eyes welled up. “I realized that if Gavin didn’t exist, we would still be right here . . . talking about why our marriage isn’t working.”
“Why do you think it’s not working, Lance?”
“Because we’re different.” I was waiting for him to cut me down, but he didn’t. “I feel like I forced you into this marriage. Like you’ve changed because of me.”
“You didn’t. And I didn’t. I mean, yes, I’ve changed, but we both have.”
“See, even now you can’t stand up for yourself. That wasn’t the Penny I married. The Penny I married was spontaneous . . . an artist. I feel like I’ve robbed you of that.”
“I chose to be with you,” I said. “You know that, right?”
“Penny, I brought you here because I wanted to tell you that I’m filing for divorce.”
I held my hand to my head. I was certain I was having a stroke. Lance didn’t blink; he just looked at me with sympathy, but I could tell from his eyes that his mind was made up.
What in the hell?
The room started spinning. Suddenly, I started to cry—huge, body-wracking sobs. He brought my hands to his mouth and kissed them. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you.”
I sobbed for minutes but it felt like hours. I was breathing hard, trying to comprehend it all, trying to see what my future would look like. Weekends swapping Milo. Me, alone in our huge house.
My heart was filled with grief for my failed marriage, for my uncertain future, but there was also an undeniable feeling of relief. He was letting me off the hook. He knew that if it were up to me, I would stay, just to keep our family intact. He was still kissing my hands. Did I even hear him correctly?
I finally calmed down enough to speak. “Did you say you’re filing for divorce?”
“Yes. I want you to be happy, Penny. And I can’t make you happy.”
“I don’t want to be with Gavin, if that’s what you think. I don’t want Milo to have divorced parents.”
“I know you don’t want to be with Gavin. I spoke with him this morning.”
“You did?”
“We just made small talk, but I realized he’s pretty into his girlfriend, Briel. He encouraged me not to make any rash decisions, but the decision was already made up in my mind.”
“Oh” was all I could say.
“For the last month, I’ve had the same thoughts about Milo at least ten thousand times. About what this would do to him. I also thought about how badly I didn’t want to fail. What would it say about us that we couldn’t endure? We love each other but we can’t make our marriage work? And then I realized Milo is almost off to college. He’s smarter and more mature than we give him credit for. We can give him more love this way. I’ve been terribly selfish, Penny. I want to take advantage of these last few months with him. I want to take him camping, fishing, and hunting. You’ve been his mother and his father lately, and I’ve been totally absent—both physically and emotionally. That wasn’t fair to him or to you. And as far as failing, I don’t give a shit anymore what people think. When I realized my anger came from not being able to make you happy, I only saw one solution. And now my mind’s made up. God, you are so precious to me still, but I’ve turned you into a shell. I don’t want to see you this way anymore. We both deserve to be happy, don’t you think?”
I nodded. “What will we tell Milo?”
“Your mom is bringing him here in a half hour. We’ll figure it out.”
Within thirty minutes, I ordered a very stiff margarita and planned out what we would say to Milo. We knew we had to keep it simple.
“You don’t seem upset anymore,” Lance said to me.
“Of course I’m upset. I’m heartbroken, but these last few years have been hard on me. I’ve totally given up who I am and I didn’t communicate with you like I should have. This is the most we’ve talked to each other in years. And this is definitely the most we’ve ever agreed on. I’m so sad about what’s happening, Lance—I wanted things to work out between us. But I think you’re right. We’ll just keep going in circles if we don’t end it now.”
“You agree we’d be fighting a losing battle?”
“I agree that we need a change, and this seems to be the only solution.”
When Milo walked in, I noticed he was looking more and more like his dad every single day. He had big eyes and a face that looked a little sad, even when he was smiling. Today he looked especially worried. He had handled the separation beautifully, and we’d talked enough for me to know that he wasn’t oblivious to our problems. He was as emotionally intelligent as he was academically intelligent, but he was my baby boy. How would I explain to him that the life he once knew was over?
The moment Milo pulled up a chair and sat down, I leaned over, kissed his cheek, and started crying.
“Mom, please don’t cry. Whatever you guys are about to tell me, I can handle it.”
Lance was still holding both of my hands in one of his. He reached out and side-hugged Milo. “We love you, son.”
“But you’re getting a divorce?” Milo said.
All Lance and I could do was nod.
Milo lowered his head. “Well, I guess that’s that.”
“You’re not upset? You don’t have questions?” I said.
“I am upset. I’m sad for you guys, but I’ve been sad for you guys for a while. I just want you to be happy.”
I broke down in tears and dropped my head into my hands on the table. Milo rubbed my back. “It’s okay, Mom. I’m going to college in the fall, so you don’t have to worry about me.” The reminder of Milo leaving drove the stake in deeper. He’d applied early to MIT and gotten in. Soon enough he’d be across the country, in Boston.
“I’m going to rent an apartment at that complex down the street until Milo leaves for college,” Lance said. “I have an appointment with a broker in the morning.”
“And then what?” I asked.
“I think I’m going to transfer to Denver.”
I looked up at him in shock. “Why?”
“Fort Collins is too small. We need to put some space between us.”
I squeezed his hand, and we all sat in silence as we waited for the check to arrive.
LANCE CAME BACK to the house to pack a few things. I told him he could sleep in the room with me, but he was a gentleman through and through; he crashed on the couch. After Milo fell asleep, I started going through old photos, wondering what I could’ve done differently. Instead, I ended up lingering over my old black-and-white dancing photos, which made me both hopeful and sad at the same time. What might have been? I thought.
What could still be?