Between Friends (11 page)

It’s nearly two in the morning and I’m exhausted. Buck still isn’t home, but I refuse to guess where he might be or with whom. It’s best not to scratch too deeply below the surface because I know I won’t like what I find. I’m trying hard to hold on to the happy memories from the reunion and not to think about anything else. I’m not going to hear from Roy again, and that’s for the best.

***

Bumper sticker on Jillian’s car:
NIXON’S FORD—A LEMON

Bumper sticker on Buck’s pickup:
BOZO FOR PRESIDENT

1978

Jillian’s Journal

January 1, 1978

Dearest Nick,

I’m still not pregnant. Monty and I are so discouraged. We’ve been married almost two years now. We don’t know what’s wrong. Both of us have been tested, a humiliating experience which we endured because we desperately want a child. I couldn’t bear it if Monty and I can’t have children. As you can see, I’m very distressed about this. However, my parents waited years for me and I eventually came along. I take hope from that.

Married life is surprisingly good. Monty wants me to cut back on my work hours. He believes it’s the stress of my job that’s keeping me from getting pregnant. I suspect he’s right, and as of the first of the year (today!) I’ll be in the office only three days a week. We moved into a wonderful new apartment and absolutely love it.

I feel this urgency to hurry up and have children.

Monty’s age is a factor and my parents’ ages, too. Both my mother and father are anxious for grandchildren. Dad’s turning seventy this year, and he’d like the opportunity to watch them grow up.

Monty and I spent four days in Pine Ridge over the Christmas holidays. Last year Mom and Dad flew to New York, but Dad hates to fly. He does it for Mom and me. He has this theory about all those germs floating around and infecting everyone unlucky enough to share the flight. His theories are often amusing. I sit and listen, nod at the appropriate times and pretend to agree. I wonder if I’ll be anything like him at that age. In many ways I hope I am.

Unfortunately, because of our abbreviated visit, I only had a few hours with Lesley. Buck was off work because of a bad back but was feeling well enough to leave his sickbed to go bowling with his buddies. (Need I say more?) I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had to bite my tongue when it comes to the subject of Buck Knowles. Lesley is more religious than ever, which I can understand. If I was married to Buck, I’d find God, too.

She’s clever at crafts and sews these cute little Tooth Fairy pouches from leftover material. She sells them at Christmas bazaars and other craft shows. Apparently she’s doing quite well with that. I wish we’d had more time, but Christopher had an ear infection and she had to take him to the doctor on the 26th, when we’d originally planned to get together. Luckily Pine Ridge now has a free health clinic. Buck hasn’t worked enough hours for the mill to cover his health insurance so Lesley had to wait her turn, which took hours. She was there nearly all of one day before the doctor could see Christopher and write a prescription. I did visit the next day. David, Lindy and Doug were so enthusiastic about the gifts I brought, so pathetically grateful, it nearly broke my heart. You’ll note Davey now prefers to be called David. He’s a lovely child, although that isn’t generally the way I’d describe an eleven-year-old boy. He’s sensitive and caring, gentle-spirited and protective of his younger brothers and sister. I can already see that Lindy’s going to be a handful. I don’t envy Lesley, especially when her daughter hits the teenage years. Dougie is in first grade and a real charmer. Because his ear hurt, three-year-old Christopher clung to Lesley and refused to have anything to do with me.

I was sorry not to have time to visit Mrs. Adamski. Although she didn’t say much, Lesley alluded to the fact that her mother’s life is vastly different now that Mr. Adamski is gone. Apparently she’s dating and has a regular beau. Good for her!

Jim and I met Christmas Eve Day at the cemetery and placed flowers on your parents’ graves and on yours, too. We were only together an hour, but as far as I could tell, he’s happy. I’m delighted that he married Angie, and you would be, too. She’s been good for him. It wouldn’t surprise me if they made you an uncle soon.

I thought that after this year, I wouldn’t write you any more letters. I’m married now and somehow it didn’t seem right that I should continue this. I loved you so completely, Nick, but you left me. It’s been almost ten years since you were killed. As much as I thought everything would stay frozen in that time and space, it hasn’t. I’ve aged ten years, and the world is changing so fast I sometimes feel I can’t keep up. Most importantly, I have a husband now, whom I truly love. Still, I couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go completely. At one time you were my whole world, and I was yours.

I decided this morning, as I reached for my new journal, that one day a year, just one, I would invite you back into my life. Once a year, on January first, I will sit down and talk to you, just as if you were here with me.

You see, Nick, I’ve discovered that life does stagger forward and there’s a certain beauty in that. Because in a way, I experience the past and the present at once. When I write you, I force myself to look back through time at the girl I was. I’m a woman now, and I’d like to think I’m wiser and a bit more pragmatic. Still, part of me continues to hold on to you. For now that’s the right thing to do, but at some point in the future, I might choose to release you. Just remember that won’t mean I’ve forgotten you or stopped loving you.

I know this sounds a little crazy, but I swear there are moments when I feel you’re with me. Not in a physical sense, but a spiritual one. It’s the sort of thing Lesley probably believes. She’s so into the Bible and her new church. Her life is chaotic, mostly due to Buck, but she remains outwardly calm and serene. I wish I could be more like that. Perhaps one day I’ll find that serenity myself. Perhaps next year when I write you, I’ll be pregnant. That’s my prayer.

Until then...

Jillian

P.S. You’ll note that this is a “journal” and not just a diary—or so the clerk at the stationery store informed me. Does that mean my thoughts and observations are supposed to become more impressive?

***

January 15, 1978

Dearest Jillian,

Happy birthday! Just a short note inside this card to wish you a happy 30th. We’re all doing fine. Buck still isn’t working. I’ve learned fifty different ways to cook beans. Thank God for food banks.

Write soon.

Lesley

***

SURPRISE!
Happy 2nd Anniversary
(a little early!)
Love,
Monty

Caribbean Cruise Specialists

Itinerary for passengers:
Jillian Gordon and Montgomery Gordon

Your Ship: the Grand Prince Rupert

Thank you for booking our premier 10-day package.
Welcome aboard!

Lesley’s Journal

March 26, 1978

This hasn’t been a good day. I woke up early and sat with my coffee and my Bible in order to clear my head. It was necessary, otherwise the anger would’ve consumed me. Buck crawled into bed at two in the morning, reeking of cheap cologne and stale beer. He’s doing everything I swore I wouldn’t put up with. Not only is he doing it, he’s flaunting it, as if he wants me to challenge him. Instead I gather my children around me and pretend I don’t notice. I’m sick of my life, sick of swallowing my pride and struggling to hold up my head in public. God knows I’ve done everything I can to save this marriage.

Buck is a practicing alcoholic. These days when he’s drinking, he becomes irrational and angry. He’s rarely home and when he is, he’s verbally abusive to the children and to me. It’s almost as if he’s asking me to kick him out.

I never dreamed it would take such courage. My greatest fear about staying with Buck is that the children will grow up believing this is the way a man treats his wife and family. I can’t allow his ugliness to taint my children the way my father’s alcoholism tainted my brothers, sisters and me.

I’ve got to get out of this marriage! I made a mistake five years ago by taking him back, but I’m stronger this time. Buck has broken every promise he’s ever made to me. I deserve better. I’ve learned my lesson. If this is what marriage is like, then I’ll never again risk such unhappiness.

Leaving Buck means putting Christopher in day care and taking a job outside the home, but I’ll do it. I’d do a whole lot more than that to protect my children.

***

***

New York Cornell Medical Center

505 East 70th Street New York, NY 10021

April 27, 1978

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery Gordon, Congratulations! It is with extreme pleasure that we confirm your pregnancy. Your expected delivery date

is November 15th.

Sincerely,

Dr. Oliver Keast

***

May 1, 1978

Dear Lesley,

Okay, you’ve made your point. You can call off your rabid dog of an attorney. I’ll agree to the terms of the divorce, but in return I want you to do something for me.

Wait.

I know you’re set on this divorce. I don’t like it, but you have cause. All I ask, and I’m begging you, baby, is that you give me time to pull my life together. Give me one last chance to prove to you that I’m sincere. I need you and my family.

Don’t take my children away from me. You might not think it’s true, but I love you. I’ve always loved you and you can’t doubt the way I feel about our children. All of you are my life.

I wish to hell I knew why I do the things I do. I don’t blame you for kicking me out. I suppose that’s what I get for cheating on you. But you’re the only good thing I’ve ever had in my life. Without you and the kids I might as well give up.

Think about it. Please? What will six months matter, anyway? That’s all the time I’m asking. Six lousy months. I’m going to prove to you that I can stay sober and faithful. I don’t deserve another chance, but I’m begging you to give me one.

In case you’re interested, I’m living in Tom Cullen’s basement. You might remember Tom. He and I went hunting together last fall. He’s only charging me $50.00 a month, which is all I can afford with what the state’s taking out of my check for child support. I hate the thought of you working at that convalescent home, Lesley. Our children need their mother. But if this is what you want, then go ahead.

Please don’t do anything rash. Give me six months. Is that so much to ask after nearly twelve years of marriage? Please, baby.

Buck

***

May 14, 1978

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY. WE LOVE YOU. David, Lindy, Dougie and Christopher

***

CARD ON BOUQUET OF RED ROSES
Happy 12th Anniversary!
I love you.
Buck

***

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY
David, Doug and Christopher

I love you, Daddy
Lindy

***

JILLIAN LAWTON GORDON

331 WEST END AVENUE
APARTMENT 1020
NEW YORK, NY 10023

June 15, 1978

Dearest Lesley,

I’m four wonderful months pregnant as of today! You can’t begin to imagine how excited Monty and I feel. My parents are thrilled, and Monty’s mother, who’s never been quite sure about me, is leaping up and down for joy. I have a few of the negative symptoms but I can’t remember a time my appetite’s been healthier. Manhattan offers the most incredible assortment of ethnic food and currently I’m into anything Italian. Last week we ordered out from Balducci’s three times.

You should see Monty. He’s so protective of me it’s not even funny! I guess that means dancing at Studio 54 is out until after the baby’s born. As if I could ever have convinced Monty to bump and grind with what he calls “the libertine elite.” (Have you heard of Studio 54? It’s a trendy disco with strobe lights and computer-programmed synthesizers and a drum machine. Think Donna Summers, Andy Warhol and John Travolta all in the same place at once!)

I have your last letter here in front of me. You’re right, I am disappointed that you’ve decided to delay the divorce. Do you seriously believe Buck is going to change in six months? He’s already had twelve years! But this is your life, so I won’t say any more.

Still, I want you to know I’m proud of you, Lesley. The decision to separate from Buck couldn’t have been easy. I don’t mean to suggest otherwise. I know it’s hard on the children but as you explained, they rarely saw Buck anyway and when they did, he was usually in a foul mood.

Mom mentioned bumping into you at Oaks Convalescent Center. She was at the Center as part of her work with Catholic Charities (but you probably know that). Her ladies’ group from the church took on the project several years ago. She said you looked wonderful and that the staff and patients already love you. When she asked her friend who works in personnel about you, Mrs. Wagner said you’re terrific with the patients. Cheerful, sympathetic and compassionate. Apparently all the retired men are in love with you.

And speaking of love... Remember what Roy Kloster told you at our class reunion? He’s not married. Write him, why don’t you? This isn’t an idle suggestion. I’ve been thinking about it for quite a while. I’ve resisted the urge to contact him myself on your behalf—don’t worry, I won’t. This is something you’ve got to do on your own. My guess is he’d be thrilled to hear from you.