to delay her or take up time at home. They didn’t agree on anything. She was stubborn and pushy. She flaunted her success. She was cold.
“Wait a minute—I am not! And when did you expect me to earn that paycheck if I wasn’t committed to the work I do?” she had asked. “If our genders were reversed and if you were a woman, a housewife for lack of a better word, you’d seem mighty ungrateful right now. And I think it’s pretty well established, you’re the one who is cold and unavailable! You’ve been with another woman. And looking back, I doubt she’s the first!”
“Let’s slow this down and talk about where this is going,” the counselor said.
The man explained that if they wanted to try to save the marriage, he could offer counseling. But if they were going to separate and perhaps divorce, he couldn’t counsel them individually. At least not both of them.
After talking and answering the counselor’s questions for half an hour, it was Justine who said, “We should separate pending divorce. I’m not completely closed to the idea of saving the marriage but I admit, it doesn’t look promising. I don’t know that I can ever trust Scott again.”
“Fine, then you leave,” Scott said.
“I’d like to suggest we have a candid talk about what we can do and how to go about it. We should both have a look at our assets and discuss options for living apart. I can take tomorrow off so we can talk while the girls are at school. We also have to talk about what we’re going to tell them.” She swallowed, and her voice was not as strong when she continued. “They’ll be very upset.”
“To say the least,” Scott said.
Chapter Four
Adele was starving. Maybe not exactly starving since she wasn’t particularly hungry. There was plenty of food in her new program, most of which could provide a steady diet for bunnies. There were some things missing, however. Chips and ice cream, which she didn’t think she ate much of until two whole days passed without a bite of either. Then she realized she must have downed them regularly.
Jake’s mother, Beverly, called to ask if she might stop by for a little visit and another reality hit her—Beverly’s cakes. At least one a month, sometimes more, she’d bring one over and Adele would eat the entire thing.
“I would so love to see you, but you must not bring a cake,” Adele said. “I’m on a strict diet!”
“But you can have one piece,” Beverly said. “No diet wouldn’t let you have one small piece.”
“I’ll make us tea or coffee. But, please, no cake!”
It was hard but she stuck to it, and at the end of her first week she was pleased to discover that four pounds had disappeared. The Monday morning group warned her not to expect that kind of progress every week, but a good, steady and small loss would add up and before she knew it, she’d reach her goal.
That day, after the meeting, she walked all the way to the beach. It must have been ten miles. When she got there, she sighed in appreciation—she’d forgotten how much she loved the beach. The fog there was just lifting, the sun pale in the sky. It brought so much comfort. It soothed her. She had walked along the beach so little while her mother was sick. She had only ever left her mother for an hour or so, usually just enough time to run an errand, maybe park at the beach for fifteen minutes and soak up the view, but never for long.
Later, after going home, she drove back to the beach so she could check how far she’d actually walked and found it was a mile and a half. Almost.
The realization that her mile and a half felt like ten gave her another wake-up call. Taking care of her mom had been hard work but not the right kind of exercise, and she’d bolstered herself with lots of extra calories. She decided to make an hour of walking every morning a part of her day.
She called Justine more often than she ever had before because she had no