She told me that her relationship with her husband had been a mess in the beginning—his ex-wife had interfered constantly, even going so far as to manipulate their daughter against her. They’d broken up for a while, but in the end, those challenges had brought them closer. They’d come out stronger, learning to understand each other better and, more importantly, to communicate openly and honestly.
“Do you want to move back?” Aurora asked.
“Now you sound like my therapist,” I muttered. “Why can’t someone just tell me what to do?”
“Because no one can tell you what the right thing is.” Aurora waved a piece of naan at me.
Today, for lunch, we were having a lamb tajine with couscous and Indian bread. For the vegetarians, Mira Bodine, our cafeteria manager who was first generation Indian-American, had made vegetable tajine.
Except for the fact that I had a lot of running around to do in the office and the city, what with going to the proposed hospital site and interviewing doctors and nurses at other hospitals to understand their challenges—I’d put on weight because I was eating more than I had in a long time.
When the kids were home, I still cooked, but once they left and Sebastian was hardly home, I started to throw together a salad for myself and call it a day.
“I love your apartment,” I admitted. “I feel at home! I love how cozy it is and how easy to manage. I love the balcony. I like the kitchen; it’s functional and not too big.”
“You know, Betsy keeps complaining about living in that monster house of theirs because it’s just Atticus and her. But now we’re close by, and Raphael comes by more often to see his nieces…and she entertains like a crazy person, so the house is being used to some extent.” Aurora drank some iced tea. “But I couldn’t live in a house that big if it was just Gabriel and me. So, I get it.”
I speared my fork into a luscious piece of lamb. “That house holds great memories because we raised our babies there, but it became a kind of prison for me after they left.”
Aurora regarded me thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time tomove. Memories aren’t attached to a place—they’re in our minds and hearts.”
I dipped my head in agreement. “But I think the bigger question is if I’m ready to go back to Sebastian.”
“True.” Aurora wiped her hands on a napkin. “Are you?”
I shrugged. “I really don’t know.”
“Marriage is so damned complicated. You know, everyone thinks about their wedding day, and they don’t realize following that is years and years of making it work.”
“True,” I echoed her.
“But it’s worth it if it makes you happy.”
“Happiness is transient, a high. Marriage has to provide safety and contentment.” And it had stopped doing that for me.
But now Sebastian was making seismic shifts in his life. I worried that he was doing it for me, and he’d then resent me. I’d brought that up at our last counseling session, and he’d been adamant that he was making these changes because he wanted to live a better life.
My phone beeped. “Got to go, I have a meeting with Ginny.”
Ginny was our head of construction, and she was going to help me with part of the community outreach pitch I was refining.
I’d given Luna a first draft, which she said was excellent—the one Sebastian helped me with—but now there was more work to do.
“Oh, before you leave.” Aurora pulled out an envelope from her bag. “For you from Betsy.”
It wasn’t until I was at home in bed that night that I looked at what Aurora had given me. It was a thick cream-colored envelope, the kind that people sent wedding invitations in. I opened it and smiled broadly. It was an invitation for Ada and me to come to one of Betsy Rhodes’ salons, which was considered the most exclusive gathering of Savannah’s most influential women.
There was ahandwrittenletter from Betsy with the invitation.
Dear Lia,
I hear you’re settling in beautifully at Savannah Lace. I’d like for you to speak at our next salon about how you went back to work after being a stay-at-home mother for two-plus decades. There are a lot of women who your journey will inspire. You’ll have twenty minutes to speak, followed by another twenty minutes of Q&A.
See you soon.
Betsy
My phone rang then—it was Sebastian for our regular evening call. I answered eagerly.