lying on my couch for thirteen, going on fourteen months. I have barely gone out. I have fed myself and made ends meet. I hope that’s not the proudest of me you could be. I hope surviving not being married to a doctor anymore is not the greatest thing you can imagine for me. I went to school. I’m going to live another fifty years probably. I hope this isn’t the highlight.”
“That’s not what your father meant, honey,” offered Kell in her most soothing voice, sounding like the mother that Evvie would have given anything, anything to have right now. The way her body almost curled into itself wishing not for her mother in that moment, but for some mother, some other mother, like Andy and Dean had, was a thought so disloyal to her father that it might have been worse than anything she said out loud.
“Of course it’s not what I meant, sweetheart, don’t be silly,” Frank said. “I understand—”
“Stop,” she said. “You don’t understand.”
“We’re talking about what we’re thankful for,” Frank offered. “And I’m thankful you’re strong.”
Evvie felt eyes on her, two nervous girls wondering why the temperature in the room had changed, near-strangers unsure what to say. She looked at Dean, who was sitting next to her looking down at his hands folded on the table. She looked at her father, who seemed baffled, unsure whether he was supposed to carve the turkey, unsure what was going to happen next. She didn’t know either. It was like she’d smashed a glass in her own hand and had nowhere to put the pieces. She took a deep breath and the pressure in her head eased. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I understand,” her relieved father told her as he picked up the carving knife. “I know you didn’t mean it. Let’s eat.”
THE TRIP FROM THOMASTON TO Calcasset took about half an hour. They’d taken Dean’s truck, and on the way back, she closed her eyes and dropped her head back. “My dad talks about his feelings about once every five years,” she said. “But when he does, you get your money’s worth.”
“That was something,” Dean said.
“I can’t believe I yelled at him,” she said. Dean waited. There it was again, that semicolon. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You’re going to have to tell him sometime.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I mean. You’re going to keep being pissed off as long as you’re lying about everything. It’s not fair to him. Or to you either.”
She picked up her head and looked over at him in the dark. “What are you talking about? How am I lying?”
“Evvie, you can’t expect your dad to know you didn’t have a great marriage when you keep acting like you had a great marriage.”
“Everybody’s parents think they have a great marriage.”
“Try again.”
“ ‘Try again’?”
“Everybody’s parents do not think they have a great marriage, are you kidding? My dad took five years to get used to one of my brothers’ wives. He bet me they’d get divorced. On their wedding day. Try again.”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at.” Eveleth rubbed her eyes. “I don’t think anybody tells their parents everything about their relationships. My dad gets a version of my life that makes sense to him.”
“So it’s because he’s your dad.”
“Yeah.”
“Then why doesn’t Andy know anything? He’s supposed to be your best friend.”
“What does ‘supposed to be’ mean?”
“He doesn’t know shit. He thinks you’ve been miserable for a year because you miss your husband. He’s not your dad. He’s not some townie your husband took a fishhook out of who won’t hear that the doctor wasn’t perfect. You say he’s your best friend, he says he’s your best friend, half the people you know think you’re sleeping together, and he doesn’t know shit. You have to start telling somebody the truth.”
“This is against our deal,” she finally said. “We’re talking about my husband.”
“Let’s call it off,” he said.
“Call what off?”
“The deal.”
“The whole deal?” she asked.
“Whole deal. Let’s call it off. We’ll be friends instead.”
Her first thought, she realized with some alarm, was to let all her bones go soft and collapse on his shoulder. But her second, better thought was not to. “We can’t call off the deal. We shook.”
“I just did.”
“Okay, fine.” She sat up. “Why can’t you pitch?”
He flinched. She saw it, even in the dark. “Don’t know. Tried a lot of things to figure it out, but I couldn’t. That’s that, and it’s done. No point