The Wednesday Group (14 page)

 

SESSION FOUR

On Wednesday evening, Hannah takes her black cocktail dress off the hanger. There will be no babysitter tonight. Adam is coming home at six and taking the kids out for pizza and bowling. They have been making a concerted effort to do more as a family, although Hannah still doesn't speak much to Adam in front of the children. Wooden smiles and separate bedrooms remain intact.

Hannah explained to Alicia that mothers and fathers often go through periods when they aren't as close, like Alicia and her friend Tori. In the second grade they went for six months without speaking. It's no different from that.

She found a family therapist, and their first session is next Monday morning. There was some discussion over whether Sam should be there. In the end, they decided no. Don't fix what's not broken.

Hannah slips on red patent-leather pumps to add color, then drapes on a long strand of pearls.

In the kitchen, Alicia perches on a stool as she and Adam, who's just arrived, banter about the best toppings on pizza. Adam's eyebrows rise when he sees Hannah.

“It's group night,” she says, which he knows. He doesn't know it's “dress-up night,” and she's not about to explain.

Alicia's eyes squint, suspicious. A few months ago, she would have wanted to try on Hannah's shoes and pearls.

“What kind of group?” Alicia asks.

Since the episode at school, Hannah and Adam have decided to be as honest as possible with the children. “Just with a few of my girlfriends.”

“Why the fancy outfit?”

Hannah forces a smile. “It's silly, but we decided we would get dressed up tonight to make ourselves feel better.”

Alicia nods, contemplating the idea.

“We think you look beautiful,” Adam says.

“Thanks.” Hannah feels her cheeks turn pink.

“No we don't,” Alicia gripes.

“Don't speak that way to your mother.”

“It's fine,” Hannah says, appreciating that Adam stood up for her. “She doesn't have to think I look good. I'm sure I won't always like all the clothes she chooses.”

“No one goes to talk to their friends dressed like that.” Alicia scrunches her face.

“Your mother is allowed to wear whatever she likes to see her friends.”

“I think…” Alicia stops. Hannah watches as her daughter tries to figure out something mean to say.

“I'd be very proud to be seen with your mother looking like that,” Adam says.

His compliment should feel good, but instead she is reminded that they don't go out, they don't have sex, they don't sleep in the same bed. She remembers an overnight flight to Europe, how they tried to fool around in the restroom. Adam hit his head. It was a hopeless, funny escapade. But now it's just another tainted memory.

“You look like a … someone who wants a boyfriend,” Alicia grumbles.

“Oh, honey,” Hannah says sarcastically as she looks at Adam. She knows she should restrain herself. “That would certainly not be me.” The words slip out.

His face hardens. It was a low blow, even if Alicia has no idea of the underlying reference.

“You look old,” Alicia sneers.

Hannah feels a sting. She tries to brush it off. “I am old, at least a lot older than you.”

Adam stays silent, smoldering.

She should apologize. There was no call for such a searing comment, but when she looks at him and sees a tall, handsome man who likes to have sex with younger men, she wants to pound her fists on his chest. It would be so much easier if she felt nothing. She controls herself, walks to Alicia, and pats her head.

“Well, I'm off. Have a good night.” Her smile is fake.

Alicia shrinks away. At least her distaste, the way her lip curls up a little, is real. Better that than the false mask Hannah has learned to wear so well.

*   *   *

She is the last to arrive at Kathryn's office. The extra time she took getting ready delayed her. She's not late, just not early for once. Everyone smiles and says hello. The room feels energized, excited—different. Hannah never imagined coming to this group would be something she'd look forward to, but right now it feels a lot lighter and easier than being at home. She could use the break.

She smiles at Bridget, who is wearing a silky peach dress with spaghetti straps, black-heeled sandals, and gold jewelry. Her hair, pulled back in a small bun, is beginning to show its natural dark roots. She looks pretty, subtle. Even Gail seems softer in an elegant teal suit with an off-white blouse. But most striking is her new haircut, slightly asymmetrical and sophisticated.

“It's nice to see everyone,” Kathryn begins. “You all look beautiful.” Her compliment is sincere, and Hannah appreciates that she stepped out of her therapist box and voiced an opinion.

Instead of red, Flavia opted for a tight, black sleeveless turtleneck dress that clings to her graceful curves. “Dema, he look at me with the jealous eyes when I left.” She twists the large silver cuff bracelet on her wrist.

“Yeah,” Bridget says. “Michael was the same. All suspicious. He wanted to know why I would get dressed up to sit with a group of women.”

“What did you tell him?” Gail asks.

“That it was none of his fucking business.”

“I don't think Greg even noticed anything different,” Lizzy says. Her long peasant skirt comes to her ankles. A colorful scarf is thrown loosely around her neck.

“Asshole,” Bridget says.

“How could he not notice?” Flavia asks. “You look like a movie star.”

Lizzy smiles. “Thanks. I don't seem to be on his radar screen lately.”

“Do you find that difficult?” Kathryn's eyes are sympathetic.

“It all feels difficult,” Lizzy replies. “I have to pinch myself in bed so that I don't start questioning him. Asking if he's watched porn, or why he doesn't want me.”

Gail claps softly. “Bravo. Learning to accept that we can't fix them is the hardest thing to do.”

“I can't promise I'll fare so well next week,” Lizzy says.

“One day at a time,” Gail tells her.

“No,” Bridget says. “She's not in any stupid program. If she feels like asking, she should be able to. It's not like she's the addict.”

“That's not what I meant.” Gail adjusts her collar. “I meant that it's important to try and live in the moment and not worry about all the things that can go wrong in the future.”

“So, Hannah.” Bridget raises her eyebrows. “What did Adam say about your outfit?”

Hannah thinks of her remark to Adam and how Alicia looked at her. It feels as if her heart is being squeezed. “He thought I looked good.”

“That's it?” Bridget asks.

“We're not really into giving each other compliments lately, that's all.”

“One of the things Jonah and I decided to do was to give each other at least two compliments a day.” Gail smiles. “At first it felt forced, but now I'm beginning to see how it's changed him. His face isn't so drawn.”

“Does anything ever go wrong for you?” Bridget asks.

“Of course there are glitches. But I believe we've seen the worst of this, and I'm able to reflect back and see the things that have helped. Letting go of needing to fix his disease and complimenting each other were two of those things.” She traces the edge of her new haircut.

“So, any glitches this week?” Bridget prods.

Gail rubs her hand along her skirt as if it needs smoothing out. “Funny you should ask.” She takes a deep breath and sits up a little. “Yes, there was. I received another letter from the young woman who thinks Jonah is in love with her.”

“That's a glitch?” Bridget's eyes are wide. “For me that would be a grenade.”

“It may have been a trigger some time ago.” Gail shifts. “But I was surprisingly calm about it.”

Hannah wouldn't accuse her of being a liar, but she doesn't believe her either.

“What helped you to be able to remain calm?” Kathryn asks.

“Trusting Jonah.”

“What did he say when you showed it to him?” Bridget asks.

Gail shifts again. “I haven't told him yet. I intend to, but there didn't seem to be any urgency. We are both very busy.”

“I dunno,” Bridget says. “It sort of seems like there's some denial going on there.”

Gail nods as if she can take the criticism objectively. “We really have been busy, and I just simply didn't obsess about it.”

“Weren't you just a little curious to see what he'd say?” Bridget asks.

“Until you brought it up, I suppose I wasn't.” She looks at Kathryn, signaling that her part in this discussion is over.

“I want to get to that point,” Lizzy says. “Where this stuff doesn't consume me. I would never have been able to stay calm.”

Hannah shakes her head. “I want to stay calm too, but don't you wonder sometimes?” She sighs, thinking of how to phrase her next sentence. “I mean, they hope we won't react. And if we do, they make it seem as if we're crazy. About a year ago, when we were driving home from New York, we stopped at a Dunkin Donuts for coffee. I told Adam to go through the drive-through, but he insisted on going in because he wanted to stretch. I waited in the car, my thoughts reeling. Was he looking at porn on his phone, calling someone? He came back out a few minutes later, looking happy and … I don't know, content. I felt stupid and paranoid for thinking anything bad. But we're not paranoid, or overreacting, or crazy. It's sane and normal to be suspicious in our positions.” She hadn't expected to make a speech, but Hannah doesn't want Lizzy to think that where Gail is is necessarily the right place to be.

“It is important to listen to your feelings,” Kathryn says.

“What I meant to say was that I have detached,” Gail clarifies. “I know I have to take care of myself. I can't fix Jonah. I never could. If he is acting out, there is nothing I can do, so why make myself crazy over it?”

“I am not sure I understand this word
detach
,” Flavia says. “I cannot see how it can be done if you are in a marriage.”

“I think in this case, detaching is not obsessing about your partner's behavior, which can allow you to look at your own situation more objectively,” Kathryn explains.

“The key is,” Gail begins, “you have to put yourself first. You can't waste all your energy worrying about them.”

“I too want to take care of myself, but can I do both?” Flavia asks, confused. “Can I be good to myself and also worry what Dema is doing? I would like to help him.”

“I'm not saying I don't want to help Jonah. I want that more than anything. I just believe that the best help we can give is to let the person go. To trust that they will come to you when they need to. If Jonah is engaging in any addictive behavior, I believe he'll seek guidance. If he doesn't, he's just going to lie anyway, so what can I really do? Nag?”

“I do that,” Lizzy says. “I badger. Greg tells me I do. I'm always harping on him about why he doesn't want to have sex with me. Sometimes I bring it up when it's not even what I want at that moment.”

“I don't like that he tells you that you badger him,” Bridget says. “And I don't like that you agree with him. Your husband is supposed to have sex with you, if that's what you want. And you should tell him that it isn't badgering, or nagging, or any other shit like that.” She holds her head up.

“But,” Gail says.

“You're not going to disagree with me on this one too?”

“Not exactly. But there is another side. Say someone is recovering from heart surgery. They may not be ready to have sex yet.”

“Except he didn't have heart surgery. Last week it was Alzheimer's. I get that sex addiction is supposed to be a disease, but really it just doesn't compare to those.”

“The point is, he may need time to recover,” Gail says.

“Or he's still lying his ass off.”

“That's not for you to surmise,” Gail says.

“Someone has to say it,” Bridget tells her, then turns to Lizzy. “Sorry, I didn't mean that to be mean to you.”

“I shouldn't trust him,” Lizzy says.

Kathryn turns toward the couch. “It's hard to find trust again when you've been betrayed. It can take a long time and a lot of very small steps.”

Flavia raises a hand and looks at Lizzy. “I think you are brave. First to ask for what it is you want. And now to try to give him space. But you must not let him make you think you are the badger.”

“Thanks,” Lizzy says.

“I think I hate that the most.” The sentence flies out of Hannah's mouth. She glances around, suddenly aware she began something she does not want to finish. It was one thing to talk about an inconsequential incident that happened over a year ago. It is an entirely different matter to have blurted out something that refers to her present life.

Everyone is quiet, waiting.

“What I meant was, I hate when I look like the bad one.” She picks up her purse and places it on her lap.

“Why would you ever look like the bad one?” Bridget asks.

Hannah pretends to look for something. She pulls out a Chapstick and opens it, but doesn't put any on. “My daughter, Alicia, is acting out at school. I think it's because she feels the friction between Adam and me. I know she believes it's my fault and her father can do no wrong.”

“Is there some way you can make her understand that you haven't done anything to cause the problems in your marriage?” Kathryn asks.

“She's only nine. Right now she trusts her father, and he's done nothing to hurt her. I can't take that away from her. She needs him.” She puts the Chapstick back in her bag. Kathryn might have asked a good question, but parents should not dump their issues on their children.

“But he has hurt her,” Bridget says. “By hurting you.”