Big Cherry Holler - Adriana Trigiani [97]
“Theodore, why are you so calm?”
“Because you’re a lunatic.”
“What? Excuse me, please! Could somebody be on my side? I’m the one who’s been cheated on!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Poor you.”
“Theodore!”
“You tore up pillows—he’s spent the past four hours trying to gather up goose feathers.”
“Too bad.”
“You love him. Why put yourselves through this?”
“Because I’m right. I’ve been true.”
“Let me tell you about men.” Theodore sits down next to me.
“I don’t want to talk about men.”
“All right, then, let’s talk about the Man. The American guy over in Italy that you were dancing with. And then you spent how many day trips with him. And meals and so on. What about him?”
“That was different.”
“How so?”
“I resisted!”
“Really?”
“Yes. I have morals. Principles. I could’ve done whatever I wanted, but I didn’t—out of respect for my marriage!”
“I’m so impressed. So you’re rolling around the Alps with a guy from New Jersey. And your husband is home because he disinvited himself and you didn’t beg him to reconsider; and he reaches out to someone while you’re gone—and you’re mad at him?”
“How many times do I have to tell you: I didn’t have sex with Pete!”
“But you wanted to.”
“That’s not the same as doing it!”
“Thank you for that clarification.” Theodore gets up and goes to the kitchen. I follow him. “Now, we don’t know if Jack had sex with Sharon. Karen Bell.”
“My husband likes a lot of sex. Okay?”
“I didn’t need to know that.”
“And we haven’t been having any. I got back from Italy and nothing. Nothing. I mean nothing.”
“Let’s put this in perspective, shall we?” Theodore sounds like the professor that he is. “You’re tired. And you’re hurt. And you’re angry. And you’re—”
“Betrayed.”
“Betrayed. But what you aren’t is honest.”
“What? I am so honest!”
“You’re not. You think that you’re allowed to go off and have a summer romance, consummated or not, and that’s your own private domain. But you expect Jack to stay home and do the chores and be loyal and wait for you to go through whatever it is you’re going through, and then you come home and he gets the great privilege of being your husband again. If he didn’t have a Karen Bell, you would have to leave him.”
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t have a man at home. You’d have a doormat. You want to cut off his balls, and then when you do, you’re mad at him because he’s not man enough.”
“I don’t understand.”
“How dare you treat him poorly for years and expect him to take it? I’m surprised he hasn’t slept with half of Big Stone Gap. At least he chose a woman in Coeburn—it’s hard for gossip to travel uphill. He tried not to embarrass you, and whatever he did, he ended it when you came home. So what do you want?”
“I want …”
“You don’t know, do you?”
I don’t. (But I damn sure know that if I ever rip up the house in Cracker’s Neck Holler again, the last place I’m coming for comfort is here.)
“You know, that wedding ring doesn’t have magical powers. It doesn’t give you license to be cruel, and it can’t keep you faithful. You believe you’re allowed to act in whatever ugly way you choose because you have a lifetime guarantee that he’s not going anywhere. You can abuse Jack, but by God, you’re married for keeps. You think you’re a woman of substance and commitment and high morals, but you’re the worst kind of phony.”
“How can you say something like that to me? You know me.”
“Right. I know you, and you didn’t have sex with that Pete character because you were afraid you weren’t good enough. You knew he’d have sex with you and figure out that you’re just like every other lay with a smart, good-looking woman—it’s lots of fun in the moment but no staying power beyond the thrill. You wanted him to want you, and you led him on, with no intention of delivering the goods. You owe that guy an apology too.”
I curl up into a ball of shame on the futon. Theodore is right.
“Now I’m tired. There’s a nightgown in the top drawer of the bureau in your room. You left it here last time you visited. Go to bed.”
Theodore goes off to his bedroom